Chapter 26
For as long as I’ve been a surgeon, there’s this little tickle I get on the back of my shoulder blade whenever a patient is about to go downhill.
It’s like a small electric pulse that tingles with a sense of foreboding.
I don’t know if it’s some sort of mental intuition or just a fluke, but it almost always occurs right before things take a turn.
So whenever I get that tingle, I’ve learned to stop what I’m doing and wait.
Wait.
Wait.
Wait.
And then it happens. Monitors start going off, a bleeder sprays, pressure drops. Then it’s the rush of problem-solving in order to right what went wrong, push the correct meds, stop the bleed, and send them into emergency surgery.
Sadly, it doesn’t always end in my favour. I remember all of the patients I’ve lost. And with foetal surgery, I don’t just remember the baby, but the mother as well. Mostly because if the baby dies in surgery, then the mother has to subsequently deliver them afterwards.
Stillborn.
It’s the worst part of my job.
But without surgery, the baby has little to no chance of survival. So the rewards of a healthy baby outweigh the risks of a dangerous surgery. That’s how I get myself through the bad cases. Through the losses.
We give the doomed a chance at salvation.
With Vi, I felt the tickle as soon as we were outside of Tower Park.
Everything happened too quickly. Her contractions were coupling, coming out of nowhere, one on top of the other.
And then to hear nothing for hours was alarming.
Indie and I kept exchanging worried looks but couldn’t say anything. We were on the wrong side of the doors.
But it all could have turned out so much worse.
What if we hadn’t got them to the hospital in time?
Would there still be a baby? Would there still be a Vi?
Suddenly, I wonder if the rewards are worth the risks.
When you’re talking about a person you know and care about, and not just a name on a chart, everything feels different.
I feel my guard coming up as I file through the hallway with the Harris clan. It’s rising up over the knots in my stomach, that tickle on my back, and the heaviness in my chest. It’s climbing to numb my mind and push me back to a safe distance.
I’m an outsider in this group. I’ve been amongst them for barely a month, and they have no idea that I’m nothing like them.
I never speak to my brother. My mother is a vapid, emotionless ice queen who shames emotion.
My father all but told me there’s no reality in this world where Tanner Harris could ever commit to me, let alone love me.
The Harrises all lean on each other and talk to each other and have silent conversations by giving each other a simple look. They do public displays of affection and have a waiting room bursting with loved ones.
That’s not me. Those aren’t my people. My people are like Indie, who understands crazy eyes and side-eyes and emotional outbursts. We’re exactly alike. Or we used to be before she found Camden.
We’re different in the sense that she grew up in boarding schools and never knew her parents, whereas I had a home life with mine. But our pasts are one in the same. She was two plus two; I was three plus one. Our equations were different, but we both resulted in the same sum.
Our families don’t sit in waiting rooms.
And now I have something different right on the tips of my fingers like Indie does with Camden. A different life. A different equation. A different sum.
Yet all I’m feeling is that bloody tickle on my shoulder blade again.
We reach the door to Vi’s patient suite. I hesitate in the hallway while everyone else moves their way inside like they belong, including Indie.
Tanner pauses when he realises I’m no longer beside him.
“What’s wrong?”
I smile brightly at him. Too bright. “I’m…not going in,” I stammer. “You go ahead.”
He moves closer to me. “Why don’t you want to come in?”
I scoff awkwardly. “I think it’s inappropriate. Your family barely knows me. Vi just had surgery. They don’t need an outsider in there.”
He frowns. “They know you’re important to me. What else is there to know?”
“I know, but I’m not, you know, a part of the family.”
“So what? Neither is Indie and she’s in there.”
I roll my eyes. “Indie and Camden are different.”
“Different than what?” he asks, a serious look in his eyes. “Different than you and me?”
My jaw drops at the shock registering all over his face, as if what I’m saying is ludicrous. “Don’t be daft, Tanner. You know they are. I’m just going to grab a cab home. Call me tomorrow.”
I move to kiss his cheek, but he jerks away from me as if I slapped him.
“No,” he barks.
“No, what?” I hiss, frustrated that he’s being so dramatic.
“No, I don’t want you to leave. No, I don’t think we’re different than Cam and Indie. No, I don’t want you to believe that you’re not a part of this.”
His words are spoken, but I don’t hear them. I chew on my lip, protective rage crescendoing inside of me like a tea kettle whistle.
“Tanner, don’t push this,” I whisper. “I’m barely keeping it together right now. Don’t go poking the bear.”
“Keeping what together?”
“My mind!” I exclaim and then lower my voice as I step closer to him, looking up into his eyes.
“Hayden almost lost Vi and his baby girl. Just like that. And they love each other, Tanner. Like, truly love each other. If I stay here with you, I’m going to go nuts.
I’m not used to relationships and families.
I feel too much. My emotions are too strong.
I have no barrier with you and it’s all just…
crushing me. I don’t do relationships because of this very reason.
I go crazy. I get jealous and become irrational, all because my emotions allow me to get invested.
Then I think of the future and I go completely off the rails with happily ever after thoughts, and you don’t want that mess!
You don’t need that crazy shit coming at you in the night! ”
Tanner opens his mouth to speak but then closes it again, the brow of his forehead crinkled deep in thought.
“See!” I exclaim, tears welling in my eyes. His silence is enough confirmation for me. “This is why I told you not to poke the bear.” I turn to walk away, mortified that I’ve shown all my true colours like an ugly, paint-splattered mural.
He catches hold of my arm, swirling me to a halt against the wall. His fierce eyes pin me to my place. “Don’t do this, Belle. Don’t start pulling away,” he begs, cupping my face in his hands. “I adore the ground you walk on. You have to see that!”
I shake my head, my voice trembling as I reply, “Is that enough? Is that enough for you to want a future with me? Your whole family bleeds for each other! I’m never going to be like them.
I’m not built that way! Do you honestly and truly want someone who can’t give you all of that?
” I point to the hospital door. “If your answer isn’t a resounding yes, we should cut our losses because, if we push this, it’s only going to make it that much harder when it all implodes. ”
Air gusts out of my mouth. My shoulders rise and fall in rapid succession as I’ve officially dropped the gauntlet and left it all on him.
“For fuck’s sake, Belle!” Tanner jams a hand through his hair, his eyes flooded with desperation and confusion.
“My sister just had a baby and emergency surgery, and you’re throwing all of this at me on top of it.
I can barely see straight, let alone think straight.
Isn’t it enough for me to just want you to stay with me? ”
I drag in a deep, cleansing breath. “I wish it was.”
She walks away. She turns and walks away after unloading what felt like a fucking mountain of baggage onto me. I want to grab her and kiss her. I want to toss her arse into a utility room and fuck her until she admits what we have.
But there’s one thing anchoring me in place that’s bigger than our crazy.
My family.
My sister could have died today. My niece almost didn’t make it.
Whatever Belle needs from me pales in comparison to that.
I’m a Harris. That name and my family has been my identity for twenty-six years.
Our lives haven’t been easy. The loss of our mother left us in a dark hole where the only light we had was each other. I can’t discredit that.
I steel myself to walk into the hospital room, sticking my hand under the antibacterial machine by the door as I go in.
All I see are backs huddled around a bed.
I can’t even see a glimpse of Vi, Hayden, or the baby, so I pause, resting my hand on the nearby bassinet.
It has clear walls and looks clinical and sterile, but inside is a tiny pink hat.
I reach in and pick it up, rubbing my fingers over the knitted ridges. It’s so small. So innocent. So—
“Come over and see why we don’t have the heart to put it on her head.” Vi’s voice cuts into my internal reverie.
I look over and see a sliver of her between my dad and Booker. They separate so she can see me better, and I feel my knees wobble when her tired, tear-soaked blue eyes find mine. “Hiya, Tan,” she smiles.
I swallow. “Hiya, Vi.”
“Would you like to meet your niece?” I nod and move closer to the bed, the baby entering my eye line as I approach. My breath is pulled from my body. “Now you can see why she’s not wearing the hat.”
I gaze down at the tiny bundle resting against Vi’s chest and note the huge mass of golden blonde hair sticking straight out all over her head. It’s shiny, bone straight, and thicker than any baby’s hair I’ve ever seen in movies or in real life.
Vi’s hospital gown is split open across her chest and there they lie together. Skin to skin, heart to heart. A soft baby cheek pressing against Vi’s collarbone. A pink blanket covers the baby’s back and Vi’s exposed chest.
“That hair.” I reach out and brush my fingertips along the feathery soft ends.