Isaac swallows, his throat bobbing, and he nods once, slowly. “Yes. For eighteenmonths.”
“You moved.” I say it like it’s anaccusation.
“To a different place in Phoenix,yes.”
We watch each other, two shocked expressions, two furiously beating hearts. Mine is anyway, and given his reaction, I can only imagine his heartbeats are keeping time with my own. The longer we stare, the more memories jump out of their hiding spots and dance betweenus.
My back pressed to his front door as his weight tumbled into me, his mouth on mine and the metallic sound of him fumbling to fit his key in the lock. How tangled his sheets became as we twisted in them. How we made the most of onehour.
His eyes are on me now, those deep, darkeyes.
Our daughter’seyes.
Oh no.Ourdaughter.
Mydaughter.
No no no. I’m doing this alone. Just me, Claire, and my dad. We’re a team. Isaac doesn’t know about Claire, and Claire doesn’t know about Isaac. She’s never even asked about herdad.
“It’s nice to see you again, Aubrey.” Isaac’s voice is deep, full of something. I don’t knowwhat.
“You too, Isaac. Or should I callyou…?”
“Dr.Cordova.”
I nod, biting down hard on my tongue. The pain from it helps me calmdown.
Isaac takes another step into the small space, closer to me. His eyes sweep my body. “Can I take a look at thepatient?”
I look down at myself and see what he probably sees. Standing beside Claire’s bed, my arms folded no less, I look like I’m trying to block access to her.And I am, I suppose.But right now, I can’t. I have to let him in. Claire’s arm is toppriority.
I step aside, making it a point to look away from Isaac as I round the end of Claire’s bed. As I pass him I feel the heat from his chest, remember what he looked like beneathme.
Briefly I meet my dad’s eyes, ignoring the curiosity I see in them. Isaac steps up to Claire’s bedside, and I suck in abreath.
She’s yours, part of me wants to scream. Pictures of happy families flash through my head. But that could never be us. He’s probably married bynow.
He looks at her, and then back up to me. “She’s yourdaughter?”
I nod, too afraid tospeak.
“She’sbeautiful.”
“Thanks.” I whisper. He hasn’t smiled since he stepped in and saw me, and that’s just one of many things that has my body tied up in knots rightnow.
“Dr. Cordova, I’m here. Traffic was awful, man.” A man’s loud voice fills the silence. We turn to it, and the man looks at Claire and winces. “Sorry. I didn’t know she was asleep.” He turns to me and sticks out a hand. “Dr. Main. I’m theanesthesiologist.”
I take his hand. “I’m Aubrey Reynolds.” My eyes flick to Isaac. He’s watching me, his eyes lighting up when he hears my last name for the firsttime.
“I’m John Reynolds.” My dad shakes hands with Dr. Main as Isaac walks around the end of thebed.
“Mr. Reynolds, I’m Dr. Cordova.” Isaac’s face is confused as his eyes move from me to my dad, like he’s trying to understand who we are to eachother.
It’s not uncommon. My dad is young, very young to be a grandpa. We’ve been mistaken for a couple before, especially when Claire is with us, which is pretty muchalways.
They exchange pleasantries, and I wonder if Isaac is dying to ask if my dad is Claire’s father. I’m dying inside too, trying to decide which to have a meltdown over first—my daughter’s impending surgery or the fact that her surgeon is the man who fathered her and doesn’t knowit?
Of course I have to tell him, but I can’t drop that bombshell on him right now. He’s about to go into surgery.With our daughter.He needs to be focused andcalm.
