Chapter 45
45
JARED
I was still getting used to this—opening my heart to someone, letting them see me at my rawest. It wasn’t easy.
I’d spent my entire life building walls, keeping people at arm’s length, and focusing on my career.
But Amelia had shattered those walls, piece by piece, and now here I was, feeling more vulnerable than I ever had before.
It was terrifying, but it was also…
freeing. And as strange as it sounded, I was starting to think it was making me a better doctor.
“The patient is waiting for you in the conference room,” Janie said when I walked into the lab.
“I’ll be right in,” I said.
I went into my office and grabbed the iPad and the case notes.
I sat across from Mr. and Mrs. Langford.
I felt genuine empathy for them.
I couldn’t imagine what I would be feeling if I was in his position.
Actually, I knew a little of what he was feeling.
That’s what made me a better doctor.
They were holding hands, both of them looked like they were waiting for the worst news.
I’d had this conversation a thousand times before, laid out the risks, the procedure, the recovery.
But today, something felt different.
Mrs. Langford’s fingers trembled as she brushed a strand of hair behind her ear.
“Doctor Welch, I—I know you’ve done this surgery before, but…” She hesitated, glancing at her husband before looking back at me.
“I need to know I’m making the right choice. That I’ll wake up and still be me.”
Normally, I would shrug off the concerns.
I told them before. They just had to take my word for it.
But that was before I’d been in their shoes.
They needed the reassurances.
This was their lives.
Their future.
“You will,” I said confidently.
“The tumor is in a delicate area, but I wouldn’t recommend this if I didn’t believe in the outcome. I have done this before.”
Mr. Langford tightened his grip on his wife’s hand.
“But there are risks,” he said, his voice rough.
“You can’t guarantee?—”
“No,” I admitted, meeting his eyes head-on.
“I can’t guarantee anything. No surgeon can. But I can tell you that I’ve spent years perfecting this procedure. I’ve seen patients walk into my office, terrified just like you, and walk out of the hospital a few days later with their whole lives ahead of them. And I intend for your wife to be one of them. I don’t take cases I don’t think I can help. I don’t believe in cutting into someone’s brain with the hope I can help. I only cut if I am ninety-nine percent confident I can help. Whether that help is adding five years or fifty years. But I don’t do it if I am guessing at the outcome.”
Mrs. Langford exhaled shakily.
“How do you do it?”
I frowned.
“Do what?”
“Stay so sure. So steady.”
I hesitated.
I could have given her the rehearsed answer—the one I’d relied on for years about training, precision, and experience.
But for the first time in a long time, I found myself answering differently.
“Because I know what it’s like to be afraid,” I said, surprising even myself.
“To not have control over the things that matter most.” I swallowed, images of Amelia in that hospital bed flashing through my mind.
“Fear is normal. But I won’t let it dictate what I do in that OR. And neither should you.”
Mr. Langford exhaled, his shoulders dropping just a fraction.
Mrs. Langford gave a small nod, something shifting in her eyes.
For the first time since they walked in, they looked like they could breathe again.
“It’s going to be okay,” I said, and this time, I wasn’t just saying it for them.
I was saying it for myself too.
“I can’t make promises, but I want you to feel comfortable with this.”
“We’re trying,” Mr. Langford said.
“We understand this is risky, but we also understand this is our only option. You are our only hope. No one else will touch her.”
I pulled up her file on my tablet.
“Here,” I said, pointing to the MRI images.
“This is the tumor. It’s pressing against the frontal lobe, which is why you’ve been experiencing memory lapses and mood swings. But the good news is, it’s well-defined. We have a clear boundary to work with.”
Mrs. Langford’s eyes stayed fixed on the image, her lips pressed together in a thin line.
“What happens during the surgery?”
“I’ll make a small incision here,” I said, tracing a line on the image with my finger.
“I will use a minimally invasive approach to remove the tumor. It’ll take about four hours, maybe less depending on how easily we can access it. You’ll be under general anesthesia, so you won’t feel anything.”
“And after?” Mr. Langford asked, his voice steadier now.
“What’s recovery like?”
“It varies,” I said honestly.
“Some patients bounce back in a few days. Others take a few weeks. You’ll need to take it easy—no heavy lifting, no stress. We’ll monitor you closely for any complications, but I don’t anticipate any. Most importantly, you’ll need to take care of your mental health. Recovery isn’t just physical.”
Mrs. Langford nodded, her hands clasped tightly in her lap.
“And if something goes wrong?”
I paused, weighing my words carefully.
I could see the fear in her eyes, the doubt creeping back in.
I knew this was the moment where my answer mattered most.
“If something goes wrong, we’ll handle it. There are always risks, but I’ll be with you every step of the way. I won’t leave that operating room until I know you’re stable.”
She exhaled sharply, her shoulders relaxing just a fraction.
“Thank you,” she whispered.
I gave her a small smile, one that felt more genuine than any I’d given in years.
“You’re in good hands,” I said.
Mr. Langford reached out and shook my hand.
“We trust you,” he said.
“I won’t let you down,” I said quietly.
I glanced at my watch and realized it was almost time for my next meeting.
Amelia had an OBGYN appointment at the clinic on campus, and I wasn’t about to miss it.
I’d flown in her OBGYN from Miami just to make sure she was getting the best care possible.
It was probably overkill, but I didn’t care.
Amelia and the baby were my top priority, and I wasn’t taking any chances.
Amelia and I both agreed the doctor was good.
Amelia was comfortable with her and that’s what mattered to me.
When I got to the clinic, Amelia was already in the exam room, lying on the table.
She looked up when I walked in, her face lighting up with a smile.
“Hey,” she said, her voice soft.
“Hey,” I replied, crossing the room to stand beside her.
“How are you feeling?”
“Like a whale,” she said, laughing.
“But otherwise, okay.”
The doctor chuckled, shaking her head.
“You’re doing great, Amelia. Let’s take a look at this little one, shall we?”
Yes, we were doing another ultrasound.
This would be the last one until he arrived.
The doctor wanted to make sure everything looked good.
I wasn’t going to be too bummed about getting another peek at my little guy.
The ultrasound began, and I found myself holding my breath as the image of the baby appeared on the screen.
He was bigger now, more defined, and I could see his tiny hands and feet moving.
It was incredible. I couldn’t help but smile.
“Everything looks perfect,” she said, her tone reassuring.
“The baby’s growing right on track, and Amelia’s doing great. The placenta and amniotic fluid are good. After a little scare, I think we’re out of the woods. We certainly don’t want to get too crazy, but bed rest isn’t necessary. I don’t want you running marathons, but moderate activity is okay.”
“Thank, God,” Amelia sighed.
“We can start talking about delivery plans soon,” the doctor said.
Amelia glanced at me, her eyes shining.
“What do you think? Natural birth or C-section?”
I shrugged, trying to play it cool, but the truth was, I’d already read every book and article I could find on the subject.
“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” I said.
“But if you want my opinion, I think a natural birth might be the way to go. Less recovery time, and it’s better for the baby.”
Amelia nodded, her expression thoughtful.
“I’m up for anything at this point. I’m already getting tired of being pregnant.”
The doctor laughed.
“That’s normal. But the good news is, you can come off bed rest. Just take it easy, no heavy lifting, and listen to your body.”
“Absolutely,” Amelia nodded.
“Trust me, if she doesn’t listen to her body, I will.”
After the appointment, we decided to take a walk on the beach.
The sun was setting, casting a golden glow over the water.
It was a mild day. Amelia walked beside me, her hand resting on her bump.
I couldn’t help but smile.
She was beautiful, even like this—maybe especially like this.
“It’s so beautiful here,” she said.
“And it feels so good to be walking. I swear my muscles were starting to atrophy.”
I chuckled, slipping an arm around her shoulders as we walked.
“You’re glowing, you know that? Pregnancy suits you.”
She rolled her eyes but couldn’t hide the smile tugging at her lips.
“You’re just saying that because you’re biased.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, leaning down to press a kiss to her temple.
“But it’s true. You’re stunning, Amelia. Always have been.”
She glanced up at me.
“You’re not so bad yourself, Dr. Welch.”
I grinned, squeezing her gently.
“Glad you think so, Dr. Pritchard.”
We walked in comfortable silence for a while.
It was moments like these that I cherished the most. They reminded me of how far we’d come from the first moment we met.
“Do you ever think about what comes after? After the baby, I mean.”
I frowned slightly, tilting my head as I studied her.
“What do you mean?”
“I don’t know. It’s just... everything’s about to change, isn’t it? Our lives, our routines... us.”
“We’re going to be fine. Better than fine. Yeah, things are going to change—of course they are—but we’ll figure it out together. I’m open to it.”
“I’m looking forward to getting back to the lab,” she said.
“I bet. I’ll have a better chair delivered for your office. Something more comfortable. You shouldn’t have to stop working until you physically have to. We’ll get you the Cadillac of chairs.”
“Thank you,” she said.
“But you don’t have to do that.”
“I want to,” I said.
“You’re important to me, Amelia. Both of you.”
“You’re important to me too, Jared.”
I felt content.
It was a strange feeling.
Usually, I always felt like I needed to be doing something.
Reading or working out or just something.
With her, I felt content to be in the moment.
There was no other place I wanted to be.
“Just think, we might get to have our son with us this Christmas,” Amelia said.
“He’ll be the first boy grandchild in our family,” I said.
“My parents are going to lose their minds. I’m planning on flying them down for Christmas. I want you to meet everyone.”
Amelia’s eyes widened.
“Really?”
“Yep, really. I want our son to know he’s got a big, loving family.”
She smiled, but I saw the sadness.
“Something I’ve always dreamed of.”
“This is a first for me,” I said.
“First baby?” she asked.
“No, first woman I’m bringing home to my family. Rather, bringing them to us.”
“Not even Gemma?”
“Hell no,” I laughed.
Amelia smiled, her hand resting on her bump.
“I can’t wait to meet them.”
At one point, Amelia stopped to pick up a seashell, waddling awkwardly as she bent down.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
“Need some help there?” I teased.
She shot me a glare, but there was no real heat behind it.
“I’ve got it,” she said, straightening up with the shell in her hand.
“You’re such a jerk sometimes, you know that?”
I grinned.
“Yeah, but you love me anyway.”
“Yes, actually, I do.”
I paused.
“Why?”
“What?”
“Why do you love me?”
For a moment, she seemed to search for the right words, her fingers still clutching the seashell.
“Because you’re trying, Jared. You don’t always get it right—okay, let’s be honest, you hardly ever get it right—but you try . You show up. You listen, even when it’s hard for you. And you’re easy on the eyes.”
I smiled.
“You’re also ridiculously smart,” she continued, a small smile playing on her lips.
“And stubborn as hell, which drives me crazy but also makes me respect you. And you make me laugh. Even when I don’t want to.”
I chuckled, shaking my head.
“I didn’t realize I was signing up for a character analysis.”
“You asked,” she said with a shrug, her smile widening.
“And don’t act like you don’t love hearing it.”
“Maybe I do. But do you know why I love you?”
“You love me?”
“I do.”
“Why?”
“Because you see the best in me,” I said quietly.
“Even when I don’t deserve it. You challenge me in ways no one else ever has, and you make me want to be better. And you’re carrying our son. Watching you go through this has made me love you even more. I admire you.”
Her eyes glistened with unshed tears.
“Jared Welch being sentimental? I think I need to sit down.”
I laughed, pulling her into my arms gently.
“I told you; you bring something out in me.”
“Let’s head back,” Amelia said after a while, pulling away slightly but keeping her hand in mine.
“I’m starving.”
“Of course you are,” I teased as we turned back toward the house.