It was her. Nate wondered if the other staff in the room had noticed the sudden rush of colour to his cheeks. He was grateful for the mask covering most of his face.
“What do we have,” he asked Jess, doing his best to refocus.
“Umbilical cord prolapse. Group B Strep. Fetal distress five minutes. Heart rate 105.”
“Thanks, Jess. Let’s get this baby born.” He made eye-contact with the anaesthetist to check he could continue. Doctor Robinson nodded and Nate stepped forward to make his incision. Positioning low on the mother’s abdomen, he made careful incisions, going slightly wider than he normally would for a faster delivery.
Passing his scalpel to the nurse, he separated the abdominal walls with a firm tug.
“Here we go,” he said, glancing at Jess to make sure she was ready to take the baby. She was so close to him, almost touching his side. He could feel the heat coming from her, and everything in him wanted to reach out— convince her she was the only one he saw when he looked at her. After the night at the premiere, when the reporter had mistaken her for his ex, he’d been leftwith a sick feeling in his stomach for days. If only he could figure out how to make it up to her.
“Jess, at the premiere I’m sorry I—” With final smaller incisions, Nate made a space big enough to reach in and release the baby’s head. What was he going to say?
She flashed him an impatient look. “Don’t,” she growled. The anaesthetist looked back and forth between them, tipping her head at their exchange.
Jess was right. This wasn’t the time.
Tugging gently, he freed the baby from his mother and passed him to her waiting hands. He loved the feeling of holding a newborn in his palms—birth was an absolute miracle—but his job wasn’t finished.
He focused back on the mother, delivering the placenta and gently examining her uterus. The soft texture wasn’t reassuring. He pressed down, feeling for a sign of a contraction. None appeared. A conversation with Jess would have to wait.
“We have a problem,” he alerted the others, blood quickly pooling beneath his fingers. “She’s hemorrhaging.”
The team rushed into action, and Jess appeared at his side again, exchanging a concerned look. He resisted the urge to drop everything and take her into his arms to comfort her.
“What can I do?” she said, her voice refocusing him.
“Her uterus isn’t contracting. Can you massage externally?” He showed her where he wanted her to press and Jess slid her hands under the drapes, copying Nate’s rolling motion.
Nate continued to massage the uterus internally, silently urging it to contract.
“It’s going to be okay,” he mumbled, Jess’s face so close to his he could feel her breath on his cheek.
The healthy infant cried behind him as the nurses checked, cleaned and wrapped the baby. He desperately wanted to reunite this baby with his mother, and she wasn’t out of danger yet.
“Is it working?” Jess asked, and he wished he could tell her better news.
He shook his head. “I’m going to need to do compression sutures. You can stop now.”
Jess stepped back, leaving him to focus on the delicate task in front of him, but even the idea of her so close, watching him, sent a tingle across his shoulders.
The last stitch in, Nate held his breath and waited.
“The bleeding’s stopped,” he said, releasing his breath in relief.
“Thank you,” Jess whispered so quietly he wasn’t sure if she was directing it at him or some higher power.
They locked eyes, and his heart skipped a beat. “Thank you, Nate,” she repeated, gratitude and warmth radiating from her, and he knew he would do anything to have her look at him like that again and again.
Reluctantly, he broke eye contact and returned his attention to his patient. By the time he’d finished up, and the mother was wheeled into ICU for recovery, Jess had left the room. He leant against the wall, feeling his pulse speed. Emergency surgeries often had his heart racing, but this time he knew Jess was the reason. She’d been right there next to him. A hand over his. Breath on his skin. He had to do something, he decided. Even if he humiliated himself, he had to know one way or the other.
JESS PUSHED THE BASSINETcarrying the tiny newborn into the recovery ward. Cara would be sent to ICU, and shebraced herself for Maddie’s reaction. She found her waiting alone, her hands steepled against her face, eyes closed.
Maddie jumped up when she entered. “Is that him?” she asked.
Jess smiled. “Your lovely, healthy boy.” She pushed the bassinet into its spot next to the empty bed where Cara would have been. Nothing had gone the way they’d planned, and it left her with a heavy weight of guilt in her stomach. Births were often complicated, but it didn’t make it any easier. Parents trusted her to make sure everything went smoothly.
“He’s perfect.” Maddie ran a finger down her son’s tiny nose. “Where’s Cara?”
