Breathe Again Page 7

  “Nothing like chocolate to put things in perspective. From that expression on your face, you haven't told him yet.”

  “No. It's difficult.” Skylar pulled her shoulders straight.

  Judie took a sip from her mug. “The longer you wait, the harder it becomes.”

  “I know that. Believe me, I know that.” Skylar turned her mug and took a sip. “I lied to him. I hurt him and in the process, I lost him.”

  Judie tut-tutted. “Do you know what they call him? Everyone around here, do you know what the staff around here call Nick?”

  “I can’t say that I do.” Judie wasn’t making much sense.

  “Terminator.”

  Before she gave an emphatic ‘No’, she realized it fit. He had the same determination, and Lord knew he acted like a machine.

  Judie knocked her knuckles against the table, catching her attention. “Except when he is with you.”

  “Uh?” She looked at the older woman in confusion.

  “He might act like a machine who doesn’t care about feelings, except when it comes to you.”

  “But—” Was she right?

  “I have to get back to work. You take it easy now.” She squeezed Skye’s shoulder as she past her.

  Skye drummed her fingers on the table. What if she came clean and told Nick everything? What if he could forgive her? If he loved her, really loved her, then he would. Wouldn’t he?

  *****

  Skye glanced at the clock feeling time-warped. Was that really the time? Or had the hands of the clock jumped forward? Her gaze settled on the team around her. She wiped her face with the back of her arm, feeling as despondent as they looked. After spending forty-five minutes trying to bring their patient back to life, defeat was inevitable. From the moment the medics had brought the cold, unmoving patient through their doors, they were fighting a lost battle.

  The fifth-year resident looked at her as if waiting for a sign. She gave a slight nod.

  “Call it.” He pulled off his gloves in frustration.

  Her nails bit into her palm. “Time of death, ten fifty-five.”

  Reluctantly, the team drifted away from the man on the stretcher. The sound of the ambulance siren in the distance meant it would be moments before they were called to another emergency. Another possible battle. But a chance to do better the next time.

  Skylar unhooked the tubes, making sure she left the breathing tube in. The patient had been pronounced dead within a few hours of coming into hospital, and now he would need to go to the coroner.

  She brushed his brown hair aside. The lump in her throat was hard to swallow past. A light tap on the door caught her attention.

  “Skylar, I know you're about to go off, but we have a patient coming in, full-term and about to deliver. I only have Katie on, and she has no experience with maternity. Can you stay for this case?”

  The charge nurse put her hands together as she pleaded. Skye nodded. Anything to get away from the finality of death. She never got used to it. No matter how many times she had to deal with it, she hated it. Hated it with a vengeance. Avoided it at all costs. It took her back to when her dad died.

  She went into the next resus room to prepare. Checking the oxygen and suction, she made sure all of the equipment was ready for the baby’s arrival.

  “What are you doing here?”

  Great. Her night couldn't get any better.

  She shook her head as Nick surprised her with the iron control he had on his emotions. “I'm assisting.”

  The Terminator. They really called him that. She could see why. He had a button that switched his emotions on and off.

  “What's wrong with you?” he asked.

  She smiled. A false smile. “Nothing.”

  The doors opened and the patient, medics and a man who looked as if he was about to faint came through and into the room.

  A pile of notes were handed over by the medic, who gave them a brief handover. “This is Anne. She is full-term and in labor. Baby has crowned, and she is about to deliver. This is her first baby.”

  Skylar helped the paramedics get the patient settled onto the hospital stretcher. “Is that Dad?”

  The medic looked in the direction she pointed. “Yes. That's Mike. I'll leave you to it.”

  The medics left. Skylar quickly attached the monitoring equipment and listened to the baby's heartbeat. Anne was arching her back as a pain gripped her. She started pushing.

  “Anne, you need to pant through this, okay honey? If you push while the baby's head is there, you could tear.” Skylar held Anne's hand and panted with her until the pain subsided.

  Nick pulled on his gloves, went to Anne and lifted her gown. “The head is definitely crowning.”

  Skylar introduced herself to Anne before starting her examination. “Has the pregnancy been okay? Any problems with baby?”

  Anne shook her head. “Everything’s been fine. No problems. Scans been normal.”

  Mike looked even paler than he did when he came in.

  “He doesn’t look too good. We might have to help him along too,” Skylar said to Anne.

  Another contraction started, and Anne was having difficulty in talking.

  “It's okay, sweetie. Just breathe through this, okay? We are going to pant again. Once we’re ready, then the baby will be out. Baby looks to be a good size.”

  “They said he was a big baby. I was worried I may not be able to deliver naturally. Is Mike okay?”

  Skylar looked over and found Mike sitting in a chair with his head between his legs. A student nurse was helping him breathe.

  “He looks fine,” Skylar reassured Anne.

  “Bad timing,” Anne said.

  “It never is good timing for a baby.” Nick came forward.

  Skylar caught his gaze. Her chest felt tight. Her attention turned to the patient. “It's almost time, Anne. You're going to hold your baby soon.”

  As each contraction came, Anne pushed hard, and Skylar helped her count, but the baby was stubborn and refused to move. Skylar looked at the monitor—the dips in heart rate showed the baby was getting tired.

  Nick followed Skye’s gaze as he noted the slow recovery response time for the baby. “Anne, they were right about the baby being too big. If we don't get him out, he’s going to get tired. I might have to give you a hand to get him out. Did your midwife explain this might happen?”

  Anne nodded. “You might use forceps or I might have to go for a Caesarean section.”

  Nick squeezed her hand. “It might be too late for a Caesarean section.”

  Anne shook her head. “That’s not true. They do Caesarean sections all the time when the baby is in trouble.”

  Nick pursed his lips. Skylar sensed his frustration. He was wary of the explanations. She knew how his mind worked and knew what he was thinking. He wanted to get the baby out. It wouldn’t work without a co-operative Anne.

  She took her hand. “Yes. Most times when the baby is having problems, we can take you to theatre to perform a Caesarean section. But this time the baby’s head has crowned. It means the baby has travelled down the birth passage.”

  Anne’s gaze went from Nick to Skye. “But you can save him.”

  Skye squeezed her hand. “Yes, we can. His head is almost out. He needs some help and the best way to do that is with forceps or a ventouse. It’s too dangerous to perform a Caesarean section when the baby’s head is almost out.”

  Unconvinced, her gaze sought her husband’s.

  Skylar could feel Anne’s abdomen getting hard once again. “Okay, Anne, let's give it one more try.”

  Anne nodded.

  They waited for a contraction, and as soon as she was ready Skye counted whilst Anne pushed hard. After counting to ten, she looked at the fetal monitor. The fetal heart rate was dropping.

  Nick followed her gaze. They both knew the baby was getting tired.

  “Forceps?” Skylar asked.

  He nodded.

  Mike got up from his chair and came f
orward. His face was flushed with a thin sheen of perspiration over his skin.

  “Mike, maybe you should stay over there. The last thing we need is more than two patients in this room.”

  Mike shook his head. “But I promised Anne I would be there for her.”

  Skylar’s gaze went from Anne to Mike. “You are here for her, but I need you safe too. You will make things worse if you collapse. Mum and baby need to be the stars of this showroom.”

  With a reluctant nod, he went back to his corner.

  When her gaze settled on the forceps Nick held, her eyes widened.

  Skylar rubbed Anne’s hand. “Did you know there are so many babies born with the help of these, that Nick over there can do this procedure in his sleep? But I’ll make sure he doesn't. Do it in his sleep, that is.”

  Anne licked her lips before turning to Nick, who had on his serious face.

  “It's going to be okay. I'm not going anywhere. I promise.”

  “Mike would be right here next to me, if he could. It was bad timing for us to get chickenpox like this.”

  Skylar flinched. Damn.

  “You have chickenpox?” She gnawed her lip.

  “Yes. They said it was fine in the last trimester for the baby. We don't have to worry about any defects the baby will get from chickenpox. Apparently it’s worse in the beginning.”

  Skylar swallowed past the hard rock in her throat. Nick, who was applying gel to the forceps, was oblivious to the torment shadowing her gaze. She gulped empty air.

  She thought of everything she’d done while the couple was there. Everything she’d touched. Could she have contaminated herself? Her heart rate shot up.

  How could this be happening?

  “Okay, Skylar, I'm ready,” Nick said.

  “I'm not.”

  She saw the confusion in his eyes. What did she expect? She was making no sense.

  She couldn't back out now. There was no one else to take her place. She ripped off her gloves, squirted alcohol gel on her hands, did a quickie hand wash. She rattled in the drawer next to the stretcher until she found a plastic apron. Armed with a mask and new set of gloves, she faced him.

  His chin lifted, and his gaze grew weary.

  Fifteen minutes later, the baby was out, cleaned and with the parents. Her notes were done, and Skylar was in the staff shower, scrubbing herself from head to toe, trying to go over clinical immunology in her head. She couldn't remember ever having chickenpox as a child, or as an adult. What if she was exposed? What if she had just put her baby at risk?

  Fudge sticks.

  She had to talk to someone. The clock ticked loudly, reminding her of the time. It was half past midnight. Who was she going to call? Who could she ask? There was one person, but if she started asking questions, he’d have questions of his own.

  No. Stop. She put both her hands to her ears to stop the voices from screaming in her head.

  This was not about her. She changed into a clean set of clothes and went to find Nick.

  *****

  Nick knew something was wrong. Skylar was acting unlike herself. Not that he knew what her normal self was. He wasn’t sure about anything anymore when it came to her. She’d lied.

  Right now she was standing in front of him and he couldn’t trust her. She was antsy. She avoided eye contact. She was hiding something. Her behavior was suspicious.

  “Can we talk?”

  His senses prickled. “You okay?”

  She took a breath then sat down next to him in the empty resus room. He was catching up on notes in between patients. With the notes pushed aside, he took the cup of coffee she offered him.

  “Thanks.”

  “Do you know much about immunology?” She played with the paper cup in her hands.

  “What I learned in med school and over the years.”

  “The chickenpox, would it affect the baby?” she asked.

  He wasn't sure why she felt the need for a lesson at midnight, but shrugging, he took a sip then set the cup down.

  “Anne's baby will definitely develop chickenpox if she had it at the time of delivery.”

  She took in a deeper breath. “What about us? We were exposed too.”

  “Most adults have had chickenpox, but if they haven't, then there is a risk. I had the staff wipe down the resus room, made sure everyone was aware that she had chickenpox. Those medics should have handed that over. If we had a staff member who was pregnant, we would have put her at risk if she hadn't had chickenpox or the vaccine.”

  “What kind of risk?” she continued.

  “It depends on which stage of pregnancy. There could be abnormalities at birth, eye abnormalities. I have to look it up, but if I remember correctly, it's in the second trimester the risk is greatest. Thirteen weeks that the risk is a little higher.”

  This wasn't a lesson at midnight. If it was, Skylar wouldn't look as pale as she did. She still avoided his gaze.

  Why did she always do that?

  “Is there something you need to tell me?” He sighed.

  She was quiet for the longest minute. He thought back to that day in the hospital. That day when he went back to the house and saw the blood. At the instant he saw the blood, he’d known what had happened.

  Did he feel a little bit of disappointment? He hadn't stopped to think. He had raced to the hospital, had found her in the bed. He remembered the look of loss in her eyes.

  He clenched his hands into fists. He had assumed. Now she’d proved to be a liar.

  Her gaze lifted. That day, he’d assumed and she hadn't told him otherwise.

  The empty ache in his chest spread. Realization hit him in the gut. “You lied? Again.”

  Her lips trembled. “I'm sorry. But it's what you wanted.”

  Besides the point.

  He let his fingers run through his hair. “Why would you lie? What were you going to do?” He paused. “Wait for the baby to be born and say surprise?”

  She shook her head. “I didn't think this through. You didn't want a baby, and I didn't realize it would turn into a disaster.”

  Disaster was an understatement. She’d lied about losing the baby. What else was she lying about? What else could she lie about?

  “This,” he pointed to her, “is a big fucking disaster.”

  “Nick.”

  His gaze met hers. “Tell me you didn't see this coming.”

  She looked at him with those doe-like eyes. His knuckles went white.

  “Didn't see what coming? It couldn't be all bad. You wanted to marry me once, didn't you?”

  He had never laughed, so he would never know what it felt like to want to. Whether it was a false one or not.

  He walked out of the room, knowing he'd hurt her, but nothing could hold him back. If he stayed, he'd hit something. He'd want to hit anything. Punch out the wall. The desk. Inflict pain.

  *****

  Skylar’s eyes opened with a start, and the goosebumps along her arm was the first sign that she was being watched.

  “Good—you're up.”

  “How long have you been in here?” She wiped her face.

  His voice was a hard beat against the crisp morning. “A while.”

  He sounded tired. It didn’t give him reason or license to stalk, but he sounded tired.

  “Get cleaned and changed. There are things we need to do.”

  “What's that?” Her gaze grew cautious.

  He searched the room for her robe then threw it at her. “We need to get some bloods.”

  She crossed her arms over her chest, for the first time feeling underdressed. Her bones ached from being tired. “Bloods?”

  His gaze roamed the room. He wasn't listening to her.

  “Um, I’m not yours to order around?” Her voice cracked.

  He cocked his head. His gaze sliced through her. “There’s nothing I want more than to walk out that door and have nothing to do with you.” Stepping closer, his finger pointed at her. “Nothing.”

  Skylar sh
ivered as the cold sliver of ice ran down her spine.

  “But you made damned sure we all play a part in this.” He spat out the words.

  She knew he was right. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to lie. Trust me.”

  He went to her closet and pulled out a shirt. He turned and flung the shirt at her. “You don't have the best track record in the trust department so far.”

  She grabbed the soft cotton shirt. It hurt like hell, but he was right. “I'll change then we can go to get these bloods done.”

  He paused and threw her jeans at her. “We'll need bloods to see if you have chickenpox antibodies. If you haven't, then you have a two percent chance of having a baby with abnormalities.”

  Skylar’s gaze fell to her midsection. She turned her thoughtful gaze to his. He looked so composed. So sure and efficient. She always wished she could be like that. There were so many times when her life was such a mess. So many times when she thought a man in her life would sort it all out. A man like him. A man like her father.

  “We.”

  His gaze gave her mixed feelings. It made her feel all shaken not stirred in a crazy sort of way. But he didn't say anything. He just stood there.

  “We,” she repeated. “We have a two percent chance of having a child with abnormalities.”

  Chapter Seven

  “Stop scratching.” Nick’s frustrated tone sent a swift sliver of irritation through her.

  If looks could kill, Nick would be in rigor mortis.

  Skylar had both hands covered in pot holders taped at the wrists, and although this could be looked on as an exercise in kinky, being covered in itchy chicken pox rash was the last thing making Skylar feel sexy.

  “Have you taken your Tylenol?” he asked.

  She snorted. Temporary truce or not, he was not helping. “Whoever said pain medication helps with itching lied.”

  “That's all the medication you can take that is safe for the baby.”

  She didn’t have to like the voice of reason.

  “I know.” She was grumpy, but it didn't make her voice sound less so.

  “If you stop squirming around like that and promise to be good, I will consider putting calamine lotion on your back.”