“I read in the chart that the mother’s into holistic medicine.”
He’d seen that, too. Though he didn’t on the whole disagree with the approach, Brooklyn needed more help than she was getting.
“I’d like to set up the meet for tomorrow, if that works for you, so we can get going on the weekly scans straight off this latest ER visit. And also...” he debated adding the next part and being there alone with her, looking into those deep dark eyes “...this will give me the chance to see this through to the end, to leave the hospital, knowing that Brooklyn’s going to be okay.”
He watched her face for a reaction, not sure what he’d expected—or hoped—to see. She blinked. Swallowed. And said, “I didn’t know you were leaving,” as though he’d mentioned he liked ranch dressing on his salad.
“Yep,” he stood. “I accepted the position in LA and have given up the lease on my apartment.” Pulling the bandage off quickly was still the best option, even with all of the medical marvels brought on by modern technology. Him leaving before her pregnancy was even showing—that was getting that Band-Aid off quickly.
Lest he become a permanent Band-Aid in her life. Or try to be.
Heather had taught him a hard lesson on that score. He’d known she was still half in love with the guy who dumped her. But he’d believed she’d had genuine feelings for him, too. When she’d told him she was pregnant, he’d believed her. Had said he’d stand by her even if the baby wasn’t his. After he put off going to college, using part of his first semester’s tuition to put a down payment on an apartment, she’d been honest with him. Told him there was no baby. She’d been trying to get her ex back, and had tearfully admitted she’d been wrong to do what she’d done. But she’d needed Greg. He’d loved her. And loved her needing him...
Yeah, never again.
“You’re moving to LA.” The words came across as mere clarification.
“I start there four weeks from tomorrow. I’d like to get an apartment sooner than that, though, just a temporary landing place until I find a home to buy.”
“I didn’t know you wanted to be a homeowner.” He couldn’t read her. Didn’t like that. And didn’t remember a time when he’d felt that way in the past.
“We don’t really know much of anything about each other,” he reminded her. Funny how that hadn’t stopped him from thinking he knew her well. Yes, ironies abounded.
Heather hadn’t been the only woman with whom he’d jumped feet first into a relationship, but she was the one who’d hurt the most. Until Wendy, of course. His ex-wife had been as eager as he was to marry quickly, in spite of them only knowing each other a couple of months. They’d been living together after one. They were both professionals at that point. Had known what they wanted.
And when it turned out that he wasn’t able to provide what she wanted most—a biological child of her own—she’d divorced him and found someone who could.
And here was Elaina—a woman who’d slipped past all of his hard-built defenses, in spite of them sticking to their “no friendship, only sex” rule. Breaking up with him. And then thinking she was pregnant with his child, but still not wanting to start anything with him.
The ironies were almost comical.
Except that no one was laughing.
* * *
On Monday, Elaina met with Dr. Morgan, Brooklyn’s pediatrician, with Greg present. On Tuesday, she helped Greg present their charting concerns to administration. They wouldn’t be privy to results. It was the way things worked. You did your job. You didn’t become attached. Most particularly when you worked with patients who were not under your direct care. She managed it all without exchanging a single personal word with Greg. She was professional, gracious. And remained absent.
She went to Cassie and Wood’s for dinner, spending almost the entire time on the floor with Alan, stacking blocks that he’d knock down and then, each time, look at her with surprise and laugh out loud.
She wasn’t telling anyone she was pregnant. Not until she could explain how it happened.
And she wasn’t looking at nursery furniture or doing anything in the unused guest room in her home, in terms of painting or even planning. Not until she knew who the father of her child was.
The baby was coming.
It was hers and she was already in love with it.
She just wanted to know the identity of its father before fully accepting her changed reality.
And as for Greg...he’d made his decision one way or the other. Yes, he’d convinced her there was a good chance the baby wasn’t his. That there’d been a gross mistake made at The Parent Portal. But it was possible that he was wrong. There were many things medical science could not explain.
A sperm slipping past the aggressors out to kill it could be one of them.
He was moving, regardless, even though Los Angeles was not all that far. Had already quit his job in Marie Cove by giving his notice. Had given up his apartment.
The message couldn’t be any clearer to her.
No matter what the coming paternity test had to say, he was going.