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“Congrats, Lizzie,” he says in a soft voice. “It’s a boy.”
Icry as I cradle my son. Pippa cries too, smoothing my hair and hugging my shoulders. We stare in wonder at the little bundle in my arms. He looks just like his daddy. So sweet and sincere, vulnerable, beautiful.
Dillan asks me something, but I don’t hear him at first. “What?” I ask, looking up at him with tear-filled eyes.
“What’s his name?”
“Isaac,” I say. “His name is Isaac.”
I can see the smile in Dillan’s eyes as he looks down at the baby. “It’s nice to meet you, Isaac. You’ve got a very special mother.”
All at once, my feelings for Dillan come rushing back, and I’ve got to shut my eyes against the onslaught. It’s all too intense, too emotional, too much to bear for someone who’s had their world change in a short span of time. I’m spared from further interactions with Dillan. He goes back to business, cutting Isaac’s umbilical cord and taking care of the aftermath of everything.
Pippa steps away to call Mrs. Loughty, and I ignore everyone around me in favor of staring at my new baby.
Nurse Ronnie helps me place him directly on my chest, so his skin touches mine. I can feel his little heartbeat, the same heartbeat I heard all those months ago in Daisy’s office. Already I love him with my whole being, and I know from the depths of my soul there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to keep him safe and happy.
“He’s a tough little cookie,” Dillan says, smiling at me and the baby.
20
DILLAN
Earlier that day
When I get the call from the hospital that a patient needs help, I don’t hesitate to take it. I don’t know Dr. Daisy Anderson personally, but we’ve crossed paths at the hospital a few times. From what I’ve observed, she displays exceptional skill and knowledge in her field. Despite our limited interactions, I’ve entertained the idea of extending her an offer at my practice. Strengthening our professional relationship through this favor could potentially pave the way for such discussions.
As for the patient in need, all I know is that they’ve gone into labor earlier than expected, and Dr. Anderson isn’t available.
It isn’t until I’m at the nurses’ station, scrubbed up and ready to go, that I finally learn the patient’s name.
Elizabeth Moore.
My Lizzie.
The first thing I feel is joy. After all those months of wondering and thinking about her, I’m finally going to see her again. God, I’ve missed her. What a coincidence. But then the reality of the situation crashes over me, and I have to stop myself from becoming too excited.
Because the truth of the matter is, my Lizzie is having a baby.
Which means she has found someone else.
I don’t like the thought—it stings for sure.
At least it explains why she never called. She must have been with a man just before she met me, or shortly thereafter. I don’t have time to dwell on the thought, however. I have a job to do. A patient’s well-being is my priority, and I can’t afford to let personal emotions interfere with my professional duties.
Her labor has to be handled delicately since it has started earlier than anticipated. My focus needs to be on the baby.
I direct my attention back to her chart where Dr. Anderson had just added notes that morning. Everything seems fine, which is a good sign. While she’s early, the baby is in position and at least developed enough to be able to survive outside the womb. My concern is making sure the delivery goes smoothly and both come out the other end of it safe and sound.
Taking a few seconds to collect myself, I push my feelings for her aside and enter the room as the professional I am.
The sight of Lizzie, pregnant, hits me harder than I anticipated—it’s a visceral punch straight to the gut. Her hair is up in a haphazard bun and her cheeks are red from the pain. Yet, she’s never looked more beautiful. The shock mirrored in her eyes reflects the same astonishment I felt learning her name. Not that I blame her. Neither of us really expected to see the other again. And definitely not under such circumstances.
After we say our hellos, I check to see how far along she is. It turns out that I got here just in the nick of time. She’s in transition, which means she’ll be able to push any moment.
“Are you sure you don’t want anything for the pain?” I ask as the nurses come to stand around us. “It’s too late for an epidural, but we can get you a shot of something to take the edge off.”
“Nah, I made it this far.” Lizzie waves a tired hand. “Might as well go the distance.”
