She rubs the heel of her hands into her face, a heavy sigh escaping. “Christ, Roman. So what does that mean? Are you going to have to delay graduation again?”
A heaviness falls on his shoulders, and he bites back the burn in his throat as he sets the sandwich aside, no longer feeling hungry.
“No, Mom. They’ll probably put me on a waitlist or something—no big deal,” he says, waving his hand.
Wrong. It’s a big fucking deal.
And it’s as if she can hear his thoughts because she stands up and starts to pace. “It is a big deal, Ro. I need you to be a little more responsible, honey. For Lucy’s sake,” she says, disappointment coating her words.
“It was a slip-up, Mom. I’ll handle it,” he says, his voice coming out smaller this time.
They both turn when a knock sounds and the door swings open. A slender brunette in dinosaur scrubs walks through with a clipboard.
His shoulders tense when he realizes who it is. She keeps her head down as she reads over the clipboard.
“Hi, Gwendolyn. Roman.”
He clears his throat, wiping imaginary dust from his pants as he stands. “Audrey.”
Audrey looks up, gives a small, reserved(completely fake)smile before moving over to Lucy to check her vitals. His mom raises her eyebrows towards him.
He watches Audrey’s lips turn down as she jots down notes on the chart. “Is something wrong?” he asks.
Her hazel eyes snap to his. “I’ll let the doctor speak with you about it.”
“Come on, Audrey,” he says in a pleading manner, flashing a smile.
She waves a finger at him. “Ah ah, that won’t work on me, Roman Hayes.” She leans over the cot, tapping Lucy’s nose. “Isn’t that right, Lucy girl? Daddy’s charm doesn’t faze me anymore. Especially since he seems to have lost my number.”
Roman’s face flushes, and he scratches the back of his head, looking at the ground. Audrey straightens, walking away.
“Audrey, wait.”
“Dr. Newark will be in soon,” she calls without a backward glance.
The door slams shut behind her, rattling the hinges. He feels his mom staring, and he pivots to her.
“Not a word,” he says, returning to his seat.
She holds her hands up. “Hey, I didn’t say anything, Mr. Smooth Talker.”
He groans, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I knew I shouldn’t have gone out with her. I knew she’d be weird.”
His mom shrugs. “Why didn’t you call her? She seems nice. Educated. Pretty.”
Roman sighs, shaking his head. “I just … didn’t feel anything, and things just got hectic with Lucy, school, work,” he says, rubbing the back of his neck.
His mom bristles at the mention of his job, turning away. It’s another one of the many things he isn’t doing right in her eyes. “I told you to quit that place. What does it have to do with engineering, anyway?”
“Nothing at all,” he quips. “But I like it, and I like having a paycheck, and it’s what pays for all of this.” He gestures to the hospital room. At least, most of it.
She looks him up and down, arms crossed over her chest, before letting out a disapproving sound.
“Yeah, well. The quicker you graduate, the sooner you’ll have a degree that will get you a real, secure job for you to take care of your daughter with.”
His spine stiffens before he slips his mask back into place, tapping his mom’s knee. “Don’t worry, Mom, this is my last year.”
The door swings open again, and Dr. Newark walks in, setting the clipboard on the edge of Lucy’s cot. His dark hair—streaked with gray—has been gelled back, making him appear younger, and black frames perch on his nose.
