Ice floods my veins, and I swear I can feel the color draining from my face. “You’re right. Thatisworse. What does he want?”
“He brought Luna. It’s an emergency.”
I tamp down my fear and abruptly stand, inadvertently shoving my office chair backward in the process. It crashes into the bookshelves behind me, knocking several frames over. I don’t stop to fix them. “What’s wrong with her?”
“Apparently, she ate an entire bag of chocolate chips.”
“Milk chocolate?”
Micah grimaces and shakes his head. “Semi-sweet baking chocolate.”
“Fuck.”
I speed-waddle down the hall to the exam room. When I get there, Tyler’s eyes are red-rimmed and glassy, and he’s holding a lethargic black pug in his arms. It’s the most emotion I’ve ever seen from this man.
“Angie,” he chokes. “You have to help her. She’s all I have left.”
I want to rage at him, remind him how he got himself into this position, but now is not the time. Luna is my priority. Everything else can wait.
I take her from his arms and place her on the scale. “How big was the bag, and how long has it been since she ate them?”
She nudges at my hand like she used to do, and my heart gives a painful squeeze. “I missed you, too, sweet girl.”
Tyler runs his hands through his dark, disheveled hair as he paces the length of the room. “Twelve ounces, I think. I’m not sure how long. I came home from work, and she was throwing up in the kitchen. It could’ve been hours.” He sinks into the metal armchair, locking his hands behind his head with his face between his knees. “Fuck!”
My first instinct is to offer him comfort, but that's not my job anymore. Right now, I’m Doctor Angelina Rossi, and he’s someone I once thought I knew, someone I thought loved.
I do some quick math in my head. Luna’s a big girl, coming in at just under twenty pounds. A twelve-ounce bag of semi-sweet chocolate chips is nearly fatal if left untreated.
I check her heart rate, administer medication to prevent further absorption of the toxin into her bloodstream, keep her calm, and set up IV fluids to prevent dehydration. Over the course of an hour, I keep a close eye on her. While I’m with other patients, Micah takes my place.
Luna’s a fighter.
“I’m going to keep her here for the next twenty-four hours or so to monitor her condition, but the fact that she’s vomiting is a good sign. Her body is fighting back.”
Tyler doesn’t look at me. He just nods and runs his hand down her back in soothing motions.
“Micah will stay with her,” I say.
When he finally looks up, I gesture for him to follow me out. He leans over and whispers into her ear, then kisses the top of her head. She’s lethargic, but she still manages to lick his face. He grimaces, and it takes everything in me not to laugh at his expense. He deserved that.
Tyler slips his hands into his pockets and follows me out of the room.
I stop beside the reception desk where Marnie’s ready withthe clipboard. “I’ll have you sign the paperwork, and you can go. If anything changes, we’ll call you.”
There’s a long pause before he says anything. “Thank you, Angie. I don’t know what I would’ve done…”
Compassion overpowers reason, and I give his forearm a reassuring squeeze. “She’s going to be fine. In all likelihood, you can take her home tomorrow.”
Before I even know what’s happening, Tyler pulls me into his arms and hugs me. I don’t react immediately, too stunned by the sudden embrace to register it until it’s too late. My belly presses against his, and the feeling unsettles me. Once my mind catches up, I shove him away from me.
My hands instinctively go to my bump.
Tyler’s gaze tracks the movement.
I take a small step backward. “Don’t. You don’t get to ask.”
“I—”
