“Iknow.” I blow out a breath. “I’ve just been putting it off. You’ve seen how it goes with surgeons and pregnancy. It doesn’t matter how competent you are, people start assuming things. They think you’re distracted and weak, or not serious about the job anymore. You don’t get asked to scrub in on certain procedures because suddenly, you’re a liability.”
She’s quiet for a beat. “Yeah,” she says finally. “Ihaveseen that.”
“I just needed to wrap my head around it first.”
“Okay,” Heidi says, already in solution mode. “Then let’s break it down. You work at a private clinic, so if someone did report something, it’ll go to Moreno first for an internal review. And you’ve got clean separation, full handover notes in the system, and I was assigned as his physio right after post-op.”
“Still looks messy.”
“Only if someone’s trying really hard to make it look messy,” she says. “You weren’t involved romantically while he was underyour care. You weren’t even supervising me once things shifted between you. There’s a paper trail, and it’s clean.”
I let that sink in. “You think Moreno’ll see it that way?”
“I think Moreno cares about ethics, but he’s also not an idiot. He knows you. He knows you’re not the type to cross lines.”
I glance down at the condensation sliding down my cup. “I’m just scared. Of screwing this up and being judged, of losing everything I’ve worked for.”
Heidi reaches across the table and taps my hand gently. “Then just start simple. Tell him you’re pregnant—that’s it. You don’t have to tell him anything more than that. He doesn’t need to know who the father is.”
“And if he asks?”
“Then you say the truth: the pregnancy doesn’t affect your ability to work, and the rest of the details are personal. You’ll advise the team when you’re ready to discuss maternity plans. That’s it.”
I nod slowly, and the knot in my chest loosens. Not much, but it’s something.
“Okay,” I say. “I’ll tell him… after my twelve-week scan.”
Heidi grins, her sunshine back in full force. “Perfect. We’ll celebrate with pastry. Or a name brainstorm—oh! Baby clothes shopping. Oh mygod, Park, you’re gonna be such a good mom!”
My stomach flips, but this time, it’s not panic. It’s something quieter and almost warm.
I wrap both hands around my coffee and take a long sip, letting the sun soak into my shoulders.
Yeah. I think I am.
***
The lights are dimmed, the monitor glows pale blue, and I’m already clutching Reid’s hand like we’re on a rollercoaster I can’tget off. Our sonographer presses the probe gently to my stomach and moves it in gentle circles.
“There we go,” she says warmly. “There’s baby.”
And just like that, everything else fades. The shape on the screen isn’t just a blob anymore—it’s a profile. A tiny head and curved back, small limbs curled in like punctuation marks. And when the tech shifts the angle, we see the flicker again.
The heartbeat.
A swooping sound floods the speakers, and I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until Reid’s thumb starts stroking gently across the back of my hand. I glance at him, and the look on his face nearly breaks me.
His jaw is slack, eyes wide. He looks reverent and ruined all at once.
“That’s a whole person,” he murmurs, gaze fixed on the screen. “Like, an actual baby. That’s a whole ass person in there.”
The tech smiles. “Eleven weeks and five days by measurement. Slightly under our dating estimate, but nothing to worry about.”
“Oh shit,” Reid says, eyes still wide on the screen. “Is that a foot?”
I huff a laugh, and the sound must ripple through me because the image on the screen shifts slightly. The baby does a little bounce, just enough to be noticeable.
Reid blinks. “Did I do that?”
