Page 37 of Halo

“Take your time. I’m in good hands.” Siobhan softly laughs, her eyes still closed.

The room falls silent for a brief moment as I finish charting, the gentle tapping of keystrokes rhythmic and comforting. As I sign-out of the computer system, a soft whimper rises from the bassinet in the corner. I raise an eyebrow, hoping this baby will self-sooth. But what starts as soft grunts quickly turns into fussy cries.

Well, shit.

“Can you pass him to me?” Siobhan asks, her words defeated.

“Are you kidding me?” I snark, stepping toward the crib. “You need to stay flat on your back.”

His tiny face is an impressive shade of red. “H-Hey, buddy,” I say softly as I tenderly rub his belly. “Shhh, it’s okay.”

Suddenly, the whimpers turn to wails, his arms working their way from his swaddle.

I remove his blanket and check his diaper, but nothing appears to be physically irritating him.

Goddamnit. Tell me what you want, little dude. Please?

“I’m afraid he might be a cuddler, Dr. Crawford,” Shiobhan quietly informs me from her bed. “If you bring him over her—”

“No, no,” I reassure her. “You need to rest. I’ve got this.”

I think.

Where the hell is Larissa?

I stare at the infant for a beat. Before I overthink it, I gently cradle his head and lift him from the bassinet. Laying him against my chest, I grab his soft, pale blue blanket to tuck him under my chin and begin walking with him.

His cries quickly lose steam, his fists unclenching as he nestles against my shoulder.

“Okay … yeah … there we go,” I murmur, gently swaying. “Hey, little man. It’s okay now. It’s okay now. Sometimes we just need to be held, huh?”

Inhaling his newborn smell, I count his tiny fingers curling around the neck of my scrub top. So innocent, so helpless, so in need of love and guidance. All I can think about is Grady at this age, all the versions of him I will never get to experience. Ever since I met him a few days ago, my mind has focused on the big milestones. First steps. First words. First foods. Holding this newborn reminds me of the moments that we don’t measure. The moments in-between. The moments that feel ordinary, yet they seem to be more important than the firsts—not because they carry greater weight, but because they represent time lost.

I wasn’t there when he fussed in his bassinet.

I wasn’t there when he needed me to hold him.

I wasn’t there when he needed reassurance he wasn’t alone in this world.

“You’re a natural, Dr. Crawford.” Shiobhan softly snickers from her bed. “Please tell me you babysit.”

I chuckle, rocking her newborn. “I’ll leave you my card.”

“Do you have any children?”

The question catches me off guard, but something inside my chest swells as the corner of my mouth curls. “Actually, I do. I have a son.”

“What?” Larissa rejoins us, shutting the door behind her. “How did I not know this?”

Welcome to the party.

“It’s a long story.” I offer a cordial smile, hoping she’ll drop it. At this point, I don’t know what to tell people. I don’t even know what I am willing to share—if anything at all. I already know what people will think. Irresponsible. Low-life. Deadbeat.

At that moment, my phone vibrates in my pocket. My eyebrows furrow, seeing Tiffany’s name flash across the screen. “‘Scuse me, ladies.” I chuff, handing the newborn to Larissa. “I need to take this.”

***

“You have arrived.”