The expression on Dr. Biernacki’s face wavered, dipping into annoyance for a brief second before he regained composure. Apparently, Vincent had struck a nerve. “I am.”
“Then you know the effects an unmedicated heat can have on an alpha,” Vincent replied. He wasn’t willing to back down from this fight. Not only was it vital for the sake of himself and Nikki, but it was vital for Mal, too. “I was working closely with him when it came on, and had to endure several long moments of exposure. Getting some fresh air was the best thing I could think to do to clear my head. Next time, should it happen, would you rather I excuse myself in front of the patient by stating that I need to recover from what their heat has done to me?”
When angry, Dr. Biernacki’s angular face, classically beautiful by most definitions, sharpened to wickedness. It seemed he hadn’t yet learned how to reel in his emotions in favor of maintaining strict professionalism. The burning look in his eyes was combative. Dr. Biernacki had been watching, keeping tabs on each of Vincent’s interactions with his patients, looking for even the smallest hint that there was anything untoward happening… and now that Vincent had shut him down, those eyes told Vincent that he would do anything to prove himself right.
It was his job, of course—Vincent couldn’t fault him on the principle. But to see the frustration in his eyes, and to know that he was looking to be inflammatory, sat wrong with Vincent.
That wasn’t what the job was about.
“The next time you need to excuse yourself to get a breath of air, why don’t you just tell us you’ll be back in five minutes? I think that would be best for all of us.” The irritation in Dr. Biernacki’s eyes disappeared. It was replaced with cool, impartial interest. His professionalism had returned, but those few moments it had slipped had given Vincent insight into Dr. Biernacki’s head.
The secret was out. Dr. Biernacki suspected that there was something going on. It would be up to Vincent to make sure he never got the evidence he needed to prove his hunch was true.
* * *
At three,when work was done for the day and Vincent was in the safety of his own car, he turned on his phone and found several messages waiting for him, all from Mal.
I’m sorry. I didn’t want us to get in trouble. Dr. Biernacki was watching me, and I got spooked. I don’t want you to lose your job, and I don’t want to be removed from the program.
What happened back there, why I was so out of it… I had a panic attack. Under certain conditions, my heat is a trigger. Today, it hit me hard, but I was able to keep it together well enough to get through the session. I’m sorry if I worried you, or if I made anyone on the medical team uncomfortable.
I’m okay now, btw. I sat out in my car for half an hour until the worst was over, then I went home and curled up in bed and tried to get my head back on straight. It’s a really debilitating feeling. I wish that I could have let you stay. When I was at my worst I was in the exam room, and having you there, just seeing you stand there… it helped. It helped so much.
And now I’m rambling. I hope you have your phone turned off. If not, I’m sorry for interrupting you at work. Hope your day was/is good.
Vincent frowned. He slid his thumbs down either side of his phone, tracing the casing without touching the screen. Could he burden Mal with more bad news after he’d already had a difficult day?
With Dr. Biernacki out for blood, Vincent had no choice. It was something they both needed to be aware of, and something they’d both need to discuss.
He returned Mal’s text with one of his own.I know you had a hard day today, so I’m going to preface this by saying I’m glad that you’re okay now, and I wish I could have helped you, too. But there’s something else we need to discuss. If you’re not up for a difficult conversation, that’s okay. You can stop reading after this text and take the time you need to read the rest. But it’s important that you read what I have to say before you come in for your injection tomorrow.
Vincent let a few minutes pass, hoping that Mal was at his phone and able to handle what he was about to say. Before the situation got any worse, they needed to take action. Vincent would not put their futures in peril. He respected Mal too much to allow it.
Dr. Biernacki is onto us. After I came back from the parking lot, he met me in the foyer and questioned me. He was doing his best to get me to confess, but I didn’t budge. Right now, he has nothing on us, but I know now that he has a feeling that something is going on, he’s going to be extra diligent about investigating us. Right now, I think his game is to prove that somethingisgoing on. I don’t want that.
The reply came almost immediately and neatly summed up the way Vincent felt.Oh shit.
I’ve been racking my brain all day trying to find a solution, but so far, I’m coming up blank. If you have any input, I’d love to hear it. I don’t want to give you up, and I don’t want you to get the feeling that I’m letting you go, because I’m not. I want to keep getting to know you, Mal. I want to help you through the bad times and be there to share your joy when things are good. But if having a child means this much to you, then I want to make sure that it happens. I won’t let you get booted from the clinical trial. If this blows up in your face because I can’t keep a straight face when you’re around me, that’s not fair to you, or your future. I want to keep seeing you, but I don’t want you to have to give up on your dreams, either. My mind is telling me that we need to spend some time apart, but my heart isn’t in agreement. I don’t know what else to do.
Are you breaking up with me?
Sickness squeezed Vincent’s stomach between the teeth of its vise-grip and twisted, its brutal effect far-reaching. Panic fired through Vincent’s neural network, spreading numbness through his fingertips and toes, like even the outer reaches of his body wanted no part in the choice he had to make. Bile, acrid and burning, rose in his throat. Momentarily, he considered rolling down the window and spitting on the pavement just to get it out of him—to expel every hint of it from his being—but Vincent resisted. The sickness served its purpose—it reminded him of how deeply his emotions for Mal ran.
No, he wasn’t breaking up with Mal. But with SEAG on their backs, and their futures at risk, what hope did they have?
All Vincent could do was act with integrity. Mal deserved the truth, and with it, maybe they could find a way forward.
No. I don’t want to break up with you—I want to find a way around this. How can I keep what we have from SEAG?
We could take a break.Vincent projected melancholy into those words, imagining Mal’s soft, pink lips wilting as he typed them, his shoulders sagged with defeat and his posture slouched. The barely there wrinkles that added distinction and beauty to his face would crease and deepen, and the icy color of his eyes would lose their glow. The sight, although nothing more than a fabrication of Vincent’s mind, twisted the vise-grip that much harder. Vincent crooked an arm against the ledge of the window and rested his forehead in his hand, sickened.
I don’t want to do that, either.
Then why don’t we compromise?Mal suggested.
How?
The response took a little longer than the others had—Mal had to be investing thought into it.Since we both seem unable to keep our personal life and our public life separate,from now until the placement of the embryos, we keep it PG-13 at work AND out of it. It’s only about a week, right? After that, I’ll be seeing you in the clinic much more sporadically, and we’ll probably be a little more used to each other… at least, used to each other enough that we’re not tempted to blow our cover whenever we’re together in public. Once the embryos are placed, we’ll see each other in the clinic again at the two-week mark to see if the pregnancy has taken, and then after that, we just have the three-month ultrasound to worry about… and then we’re done. You won’t be responsible for my care at that point. An obstetrician takes over, right? So we won’t have to worry anymore.
