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You rolled your shoulders trying to fight off the weight of the exhaustion that had been dragging at you for weeks. Your current patient wasn’t helping.
“I don’t care what you say, I need something stronger!” The man on the bed shouted. “My back is killing me!”
You sighed checking his chart one more time and glanced at Heather Collins who was treating the patient with you.
“Mr. Davidson, I understand you’re in pain, but your tests don’t indicate any acute injury. We can prescribe a non-narcotic pain reliever and I strongly recommend you follow up with a pain management clinic,” she said, calm despite her growing annoyance.
His face twisted, red and angry. “This is bullshit. You think I’m some junkie?”
“That is not what she said, sir.” You kept your voice even despite the throbbing behind your eyes. “But we can’t in good conscience—”
“Fuck this shit. I’ll find a doctor who isn’t a bitch,” he spat, sliding off the table, causing you and Heather to back up quickly.
“Security!” Heather called.
Ahmad appeared at the edge of the curtain with practiced efficiency. He gave you a nod as he steered the man out of the room and toward the exit, obscenities trailing him down the hall.
“Well, that was fun,” you murmured to Heather and she laughed. The two of you had been instant friends since the day you started at the Pitt together.
You stepped out of the exam room, and the world tilted abruptly. The floor seemed to rise and fall beneath your feet like you were on the deck of a ship. Nausea swamped you as you grasped at the wall, your vision spotting at the edges.
Heather’s hand caught your elbow. “Woah, hey. Are you okay?” Her eyes narrowed as she ran them over your face. “You look like hell.”
“I’m fine.” The lie came automatically, but your knees wobbled, giving you away.
“Bullshit. Sit.” She guided you to a nearby stool, her grip gentle but firm. “Talk to me. How long has this been going on?”
You massaged your temples as the dizziness slowly receded. “On and off for weeks. It’s nothing. I’m just tired.”
“Specifics, doctor. What symptoms besides fatigue?”
Her professional tone made you straighten. “Occasional nausea. Dizziness when I stand or move too quickly. Headaches. Queasiness.” Saying it all at once made it sound worse than you’d been admitting to yourself.
Heather’s brows rose. “No fever?”
“No. No fever.”
Her lips curved into a knowing smile. “When was your last period?”
The question made your blood run cold. “I…I don’t know. My IUD makes them irregular. I don’t really keep track.”
“Honey,” Heather said, her tone softening. “I think you might be pregnant.”
You made a short, dismissive sound. “Not possible. I just told you I have an IUD.”
“Which are only 99% effective if they’re placed correctly. When’s the last time you had the placement checked?”
You shook your head. “No. There’s no way.”
But something cold and heavy settled in your stomach. You’d been ignoring the subtle changes in your body. The tenderness in your breasts. How none of your clothes seemed to fit right anymore. The exhaustion that sleep couldn’t touch.
Heather tilted her head studying you. “Let me check you out. Just to be sure.”
You swallowed the lump in your throat and rubbed your trembling hands along your thighs. “I can’t just leave the floor.”
“Dana can cover. I’ll tell her you’re dehydrated and need fluids. It’s not even a lie.” She squeezed your hand. “You need to know, one way or the other.”
Fear and hope warred inside you. “Robby will notice I’m gone.”
“Let me worry about Robby.” She stood, pulling you gently to your feet. “Wait here.”
You watched her approach the hub, speaking quietly to Dana. Their eyes flicked toward you, Dana’s widening slightly. She nodded, determination crossing her face.
Heather returned, taking your arm. “Dana’s got Robby covered. Come on, let’s use the on-call room.”
The short walk felt like miles. You sank onto the narrow bed, hands still trembling.
“Sleeve up,” Heather ordered, setting up an IV stand. “You’re definitely dehydrated and if you’ve been nauseous, some Zofran won’t hurt.”
You pushed up your sleeve watching as she expertly slid the needle into your vein. The cool rush of fluids brought immediate relief you hadn’t realized you needed.
“I’ll be right back,” she said, disappearing out the door.
Alone, you pressed your palms into your thighs. This couldn’t be happening. Jack and Robby had made it very clear that children weren’t on their radar anytime a screaming brat ran through the ED or a sick toddler puked on an unlucky resident. They were both too dedicated to their careers to think about bringing a baby into the situation. You’d buried your own desires, not wanting to upset the delicate balance of your relationship.
The door opened as Heather returned, wheeling a portable ultrasound machine. Your stomach rolled.
“Lie down. Lift your top,” she instructed, as she squeezed gel unto the wand.
The cold gel made you flinch, but not as much as the image on the screen. There in black and white was an unmistakable shape. A head. Tiny arms. Legs that kicked as you watched.
“Oh my god,” you whispered, the room spinning despite you lying flat.
She adjusted the wand, taking measurements. “Based on size…thirteen weeks and three days, give or take.”
Thirteen weeks. Your breath caught. “That’s…”
“Second Trimester. Yes.” Heather’s eyes were gentle but serious. “Too late for Mifepristone.”
She pressed something and a wooshing noise filled the room. You gasped looking between her and the screen. Your baby’s heartbeat, quick and strong. Tears flooded your eyes. Another button and a moment later she handed you three grainy images of your baby.
The room quieted as she wiped the gel from your stomach and the wand.
You stared at the pictures and something inside you broke. Tears spilled over, then sobs that shook your entire body. You pressed a hand over your mouth, trying to contain the sound.
“I always wanted—” Your voice broke and you sucked in a breath. “I always wanted a baby but I never told them. Never told Robby or Jack. I thought it would be a deal breaker. That it would be the one thing that was too much.”
Heather sat beside you, her hand warm on your arm.
You made a wounded noise. “They’re going to think that I did this on purpose. That I lied about the IUD. They’re going to hate me.” You gasped between sobs. “They don’t need me, Heather. They’ve got each other. They were fine before I came along, and they’ll be fine after I’m gone.”
The fears you’d been holding back poured out in a torrent. How they’d been together for years before you came along. How carefully you’d been treading, never wanting to ask for too much, never wanting to upset the balance.
“Breathe,” Heather interrupted, her voice firm. “You need to breathe. For the baby’s sake if nothing else.”
Your hand moved to your abdomen. A baby. There was a baby growing inside of you.
“I need to remove the IUD. Continuing pregnancy with it in place increases the risk of miscarriage and preterm labor.”
You nodded numbly, unable to form words.
“It’ll be okay,” she promised though you weren’t sure that was promise she could keep. “One step at a time.”
You closed your eyes, feeling the tears dry tacky on your cheeks. One step at a time. First the IUD. Then telling Jack and Robby. Then everything else.
***
Heather slipped out of the on-call room, pulling the door shut quietly behind her. She’d left you resting with the IV dripping into your arm and a juice box in your hand. Your crying certainly hadn’t helped your hydration. She turned to head back to the floor and nearly collided with a solid chest in black scrubs.
“Collins.” Robby’s voice was clipped, his jaw set in that familiar tight line it got when he was trying to hold onto his temper. He glanced at the closed door behind her then back to her face. “Where the fuck have the two of you been? You need to be on the floor. Tell her to get her ass back to work. She’s been slacking all day.
She straightened, meeting his gaze directly. Years of working with this man had taught her when to yield and when to stand firm. This moment required the latter. You deserved the latter.
“With all due respect, Robby, she hasn’t been slacking. She’s been pushing through symptoms that would have sent most people home.” She kept her voice level, professional. “She nearly fainted. I’m treating her for dehydration.”
The change in Robby was immediate. The anger drained from his face, leaving behind a pallor that made the lines around his eyes more pronounced. His hand moved reflexively toward the door, then dropped back to his side.
“What? Is she okay?” The gruffness remained in his voice, but now it was concerned rather than irritated. “Where is she? Is she in there?”
“Yes. She’s receiving IV fluids. Once the infusion is done, she’ll be back.” Heather softened her tone. “She didn’t want to worry you.”
Something flickered across his face she couldn’t read. Hurt perhaps or frustration. “She should have said something. I would’ve—”
The shout of a medic as they rolled a patient through the door interrupted him. His head snapped toward the sound, already turning to respond.
“Shit. Okay.” He ran a hand through his hair, torn between duty and desire. “Just take care of her,” he conceded before rushing toward the commotion.
Heather watched him go, her heart heavy with the knowledge of what you were facing, of what you had yet to tell them. She only hoped they didn’t break your heart.
***
Half an hour later you were back on the floor. The fluids and Zofran had banished the worst of your symptoms, leaving behind an anxiety that clawed at your insides. The weight of the ultrasound images felt like a brick in your pocket. You’d tucked them into your scrubs, wanting to keep them close but unable to look at them again.
You moved through the ED treating patients with mechanical efficiency while taking great care to avoid Robby’s path. When you heard his voice approaching, you ducked into a room or lingered with your patients. Dana gave you concerned looks but didn’t ask you any questions. She handed you water any time you took a break at the hub.
But the Pitt simply wasn’t big enough to avoid him forever. You were standing at the counter updating a chart when you felt him approach, sensed the familiar presence at your back before he spoke.
“Collins said you were sick.” His voice was carefully neutral.
You kept your eyes on the tablet. “I’m fine now.”
“You don’t look fine.”
“Well, I am.” You completed your notes and moved to step around him.
His hand caught your elbow, not tight enough to hurt but firm enough to stop you. “We need to talk.”
Before you could protest, he steered you to the lounge, closing the door behind you. The privacy made your heart race with dread. You weren’t ready. Not yet. Not here.
Robby crossed his arms studying you. “What is going on?”
“Nothing. I was dehydrated. Heather helped. I’m fine now.” The clipped sentences came out harsher than you’d intended but you were trying not to hyperventilate.
“Bullshit.” He stepped closer. “You’ve been avoiding me all day. Dana’s running interference. Something happened and for some reason I’m the last to know about it.”
You swallowed, your throat suddenly dry. “I’m handling it.”
“Handling what?” When you didn’t answer, he ran a hand down his face. “Whatever it is we can figure it out. But I can’t help if you won’t tell me what’s wrong.”
The concern in his voice weakened your resolve to wait until you could talk to them both together. But you couldn’t do this with him in doctor mode. You just needed your Michael for a moment. “I need to talk to you, but as my boyfriend, not my attending.”
His expression hardened instantly. He stepped back putting distance between you. “No. We do not do that here. We walk through those doors and I am no longer your boyfriend. I am Chief Attending Robinavitch. You know that.” His eyes, usually so warm, had gone flat. “Do you understand?”
Each word landed like a slap. You knew the rules, knew what you’d agreed to when you started dating them, but never had he wielded them so cruelly. Never had he chastised you like a child. A cold numbness spread through you as you straightened, shoulders squaring.
“Yes, sir, Dr. Robinavitch. I apologize.”
Something flickered in his eyes at your formal tone, regret maybe, but it vanished as quickly as it appeared. He gestured toward the door.
“Get your damned head on straight. No more cat and mouse games. We have patients waiting.”
You nodded once and slipped past him, careful not to touch. The door clicked shut behind you.
***
Robby stood alone in the empty room, staring at the space where you had been. The fear that had been building all day coiled tighter in his stomach. Something was wrong, something important enough to make you risk breaking the boundaries you’d always respected. And instead of listening he’d shut you down.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” He pressed his palms against his eyes. You’d been hiding something from him and Jack for weeks, but it didn’t seem to be anything serious. Jack didn’t seem bothered by it but it was driving Robby insane. This was how it started. The pulling away. The secrets. The careful distance. He’d seen enough relationships end to know the signs. Somehow, he’d lost you. Or was losing you. And the thought that you might be planning to leave him, to leave both him and Jack, terrified him more than any trauma that had ever come through the ED doors.
He was afraid if he let you speak, you’d tell him you were done. That this was over and just leave you the fuck alone please. But if that was the problem, he was only delaying the inevitable, wasn’t he? Instead of running after you, instead of apologizing and asking you what you wanted to tell him, he followed you out, slipping the mask of Dr. Robinavitch firmly back in place. The ED needed him. Patients needed him. And if there was one thing he knew it was how to bury personal pain beneath professional obligation.
As the shift dragged toward its end, Robby found himself watching you across the ED floor. Your eyes were red, your movements jerky as you finished your charting. Every time he tried to approach, some new emergency pulled him away. The universe seemed determined to keep you two apart, and his frustration mounted with each passing hour.
He caught glimpses of you between patients, your hands trembling as you adjusted an IV, your lips pressed together as you closed your eyes and just breathed when you thought no one was looking. Then you’d shake it off and get back to work. Something was wrong. Something beyond dehydration, beyond the usual exhaustion of a long shift.
When he finally cleared his last case, he spotted you huddled with Heather by the supply closet. Your voices were too low to hear but your body language was screaming distress. You wiped your eyes quickly when a nurse walked by, straightening your spine. Your practiced mask of professionalism slid back into place, but Robby had seen the cracks.
You disappeared down the hall away from him and he sighed. The frustration that had been simmering all day boiled over into something else, something darker, a gnawing fear that stole the breath from his lungs. He couldn’t shake the feeling that he was losing you, that whatever you’d tried to tell him earlier was the beginning of the end.
Dana looked up as he approached the hub. “I need some air,” he said, voice rougher than he intended. “Send Jack up when he gets here.”
“Sure thing, chief.”
Robby took the stairs two at a time, the physical exertion distracting him from the thoughts circling his mind. The door to the roof slammed behind him, the sound echoing. He paced restlessly, hands jammed in his pockets, replaying the moment in the lounge over and over. The hurt in your eyes when he’d shut you down. They way you’d withdrawn, replaced by the perfect, distant resident you’d been on your first rotation in the ED.
He’d fucked up. He knew he’d fucked up. But the rules of your relationship had always been clear. Nothing personal in the workplace. It was the only way to maintain authority, to ensure the fair treatment of all the residents.
So why did it feel so wrong today?
***
The roof door creaked open behind him. Jack stood in the opening, bag still on his shoulder.
“Dana said you needed me.” Jack approached cautiously running his gaze over Robby. “What’s up?”
Robby turned to face him. “You talk to her at all today?”
No need to specify who. There was only one ‘her’ that would put that expression on Robby’s face.
Jack shook his head. “Didn’t see her before I came up.” His eyes narrowed. “What’s going on?”
“Something’s wrong. She’s been off all day. Collins had her on an IV for dehydration but there’s more—”
“What a minute,” Jack said cutting him off. “She was bad enough she needed IV fluids and neither of you thought to call me? What the fuck, Mike?”
Robby sighed and ran a hand down his face. “It’s been a shit day. I’m sorry. When I tried to get more out of her, she told me she wanted to talk to her boyfriend not her attending.”
“At work?” Jack’s eyebrows rose. He knew how seriously you took the boundaries. You were the one that demanded them in the first place.
“Yeah. And when I reminded her about the rules, she just shut down.” Robby resumed pacing. “I think she’s planning to leave us.”
“Whoa, Mikey. That’s a hell of a leap.” Jack crossed his arms. “Why would you jump to that conclusion?”
“She’s been distant for weeks. Tired. Distracted. And today she looked like she was crying.” Robby raked a hand through his hair. “I’ve seen this before, Jack. This is how it starts.”
“How what starts?”
“The end. People get tired of the complications. Of sharing. Of the schedules and the rules. They want normal relationships, not whatever the hell this is.”
Jack watched him wear a path in the roof. “Did you at least ask what she wanted to talk about before you reminded her of the rules?”
Robby’s jaw clenched. “No. I shut it down.”
“You shut it down how?” Jack asked in a cool voice.
“I told her that once we came to work, I was her boss. That was all.”
His teeth clenched. “She tried to tell you something important and you told her to shut up because you’re her boss.”
“I didn’t tell her to shut up. I just—”
“Bullshit.” Jack stepped closer, forcing Robby to stop pacing. “That’s exactly what you did. You might not have said the words but that’s what you did when you told someone, our someone, who was clearly struggling that the rules were more important.”
Robby’s face hardened. “You don’t get to lecture me about—”
“The fuck I don’t,” Jack cut him off, his voice hard. “She never, and I mean never, crosses those lines. In all the time we’ve been together, have you ever known her to break that rule?”
Robby’s anger deflated in the face of that question, leaving behind the fear he’d been trying to mask. “No.”
“So maybe, just maybe whatever she needed to tell you was important enough to risk it.” Jack’s expression softened slightly. “Did you consider that?”
Robby closed his eyes, shoulders slumping. “Fuck.”
“Yeah.” Jack stepped closer, putting a hand on Robby’s shoulder. “Look, clearly something is going on with her, but jumping to conclusions isn’t helping anyone. We need to talk to her, together preferably, and find out what’s actually happening.”
“If she’ll even talk to me.”
“She will,” he assured. “She loves you even when you’re being an asshole.”
A ghost of a smile curled Robby’s lips.
Jack squeezed his shoulder before letting go. “Come on. Let’s go find her.”
Robby nodded and they moved toward the door, unaware that in the minutes they’d spent on the roof, everything had already changed.
***
You handed off your last patient to Parker Ellis. Her sharp eyes took in your exhaustion with concern as you relayed the pertinent details of the patient in Three. Your voice sounded weak to your own ears. All you wanted was to go home, curl into a ball and process the enormity of the change your life was about to have.
“You look like hell,” Parker said, not unkindly. “You okay?”
“Yeah, just tired.”
She nodded once. “Okay. I got this. Go home before you fall over.”
Normally you’d wait for an official dismissal from Robby that day shift was done. But today wasn’t normal. Today you were pregnant, exhausted, and still stinging from your boyfriend’s dismissal. No, your Chief Attending’s dismissal. It was a distinction you wouldn’t forget again. You collected your belongings from your locker, shrugged on your jacket and headed toward the bay doors. It was a longer walk to the street from there, but you just wanted to get out of here.
Dana intercepted you in the hall. “Hey, you heading out?”
You adjusted your bag on your shoulder. “Yeah. Parker’s taken over my patients.”
Her eyes searched your face. “Aren’t you going to wait for Robby and Jack to come back down?”
The thought of facing Robby after his earlier rejection or explaining to Jack why—No. You just couldn’t. Not right now.
“I think they’d probably be happier if I didn’t.” The words came out sounding more depressed than you’d intended. “I’ll see you later, Dana.”
She hesitated, looking like she wanted to say more, but nodded. “Take care, doc.”
You stepped into the evening air. Your hand drifted back to your abdomen as you walked. Thirteen weeks. A baby with arms and legs and a beating heart growing inside you without your knowledge. A baby created with the two men you loved. Men who had never indicated the slightest inclination toward children of their own. Men who might resent you for complicating their lives.
The fear felt like a weight in your chest. What if they thought you’d done this deliberately? That you’d tricked them somehow? What if this was the thing that finally proved you didn’t have a place with them? That you didn’t belong in their marriage? You’d always felt like an addition rather than an equal. What if this baby, instead of bringing you closer, was the thing that pushed you out entirely?
Lost in those spiraling thoughts, you barely registered the footsteps behind you until they quickened. A sense of unease made you turn, but too late. Hands grabbed you from behind. Large, powerful hands that spun you around and slammed you against the brick wall of the hospital.
Your head cracked against the rough surface, vision swimming with bursts of white light. Through the haze you recognized the face inches from yours. Davidson, the patient from earlier. His pupils were blown wide as he snarled at you with bared teeth.
“Think you’re better than me, bitch?” One forearm pressed against your throat as he slammed your head back into the wall again. “Too good to give me what I need?”
“Can’t breathe,” you forced out past the constricting hold.
His other hand punched your ribs. Pain exploded through your torso and your arms wrapped around your stomach. You twisted, bringing your knee up between his legs. He doubled over with a shout, loosening his grip just enough for you to break free. You managed two stumbling steps before he grabbed the back of your neck.
“Fucking bitch!” he screamed, throwing you to the ground.
Your body hit the pavement hard, but you curled around your midsection, protecting it as best you could. Your hips and shoulder took the brunt of the impact, skull bouncing off the concrete. Through blurring vision you could see the lit entrance of the bay not fifty yards away. So close. Help was so close.
His foot connected with your back, once, twice. Each kick sent waves of agony through you but you maintained your protective curl. Darkness began to creep in from the edges of your vision. Blood trickled warm and sticky down your face. In the distance you heard shouting, feet running. Too late, you thought.
Your last conscious thoughts weren’t of the pain or the danger, but of the baby.
Then darkness claimed you entirely.
***
Jack and Robby stepped off the elevator and into the lobby. Their eyes scanned the ED but there was no sign of you.
Robby strode over to Dana, Jack half a step behind. “Where is she?” he asked Dana.
Dana looked at him over the top of her glasses, expression pinched. “She left already. About five minutes ago.”
“Shit.” Robby’s hand tightened on the counter edge. “Shit.”
“She didn’t look good, Robby. Something’s definitely wrong.”
Jack touched Robby’s shoulder, a silent signal to dial back. “Thank you, Dana. We’ll catch up with her at—”
The ambulance bay doors slid open and two paramedics rushed in, carrying rather than wheeling a body. Crimson droplets marked their frantic path across the tiles. “We need help here!” one shouted. “Found her in the parking lot. Nearly ran her over with the rig.”
Robby was moving before conscious thought, medical training taking over. “Trauma One’s open,” he directed, pointing to the bay. Jack was already reaching for gloves, calling for a trauma team.
The paramedics laid the victim on the bed, and for one moment, neither man recognized her. Blood obscured the features and her body was curled inward. Then Robby turned your head and the world stopped spinning.
“Oh god.” The words were breathless, quiet. “Jack!” he yelled, panic twisting his voice.
Jack’s face drained of color as he recognized you through the trauma. “What happened?” he demanded turning to the paramedic even as his hands moved automatically to assess your injuries. “What the fuck happened?”
“She was only about fifty yards from the bay. Witnesses said some guy was kicking her when they spotted them. He ran when they shouted and then we came along,” the medic explained.
Robby’s training warred with the panic clawing at his chest. Neither Jack nor he should be treating you but they were the only attendings present. He trusted his residents but not with this. Not with you. The room swarmed with people connecting monitors and hanging fluids.
“Possible skull fracture,” Robby announced, fingers gently probing your head. “Multiple contusions to face and torso.” His voice remained steady even as his insides twisted with rage and terror.
Jack checked your abdomen, his movements precise despite the tremor in his hands. “Possible internal bleeding. Abdomen’s rigid. We need an ultrasound.”
Robby cut away your scrub top, revealing skin already mottling with bruises. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered cataloging each mark with growing fury.
A tech arrived with the ultrasound machine just as Heather arrived and broke through the circle surrounding the bed. “She’s pregnant!” she yelled over the chaos.
The room froze. Robby’s hands stilled and Jack’s head snapped up, eyes widening in shock.
“What did you say?” Robby’s voice dropped to a whisper.
“She’s pregnant,” Heather repeated trying to catch her breath from her run across the department when Dana had told her what happened. “Thirteen weeks. I did the ultrasound myself this morning.”
Jack’s gaze hardened as he turned to Robby, understanding dawning on his face. The earlier confrontation, your attempt to speak with your boyfriend rather than your attending all sharpened into terrible clarity.
“Why the hell didn’t she say anything? Why keep it secret?” Robby demanded, his mask slipping to reveal raw hurt beneath. His hands went back to assessing, now aware they had two lives to save instead of one.
“She just found out today. She was terrified to tell you.”
Jack looked stricken. “Terrified? Of us?” He shook it off as he ran the ultrasound over your abdomen. There was no active bleeding around the baby, whose heartbeat registered strong despite the trauma. Tears welled in his eyes and he blinked them away.
Your condition, however, began to deteriorate rapidly.
“BPs dropping,” a nurse called out. “Pulse is thready.”
“She needs blood,” Jack ordered, checking the monitor. “Type and cross four units.”
“CTs ready for her,” a voice announced from the doorway.
“Let’s move,” Robby directed. Jack and he fell into step beside you.
“We’re here,” Robby promised as the elevator climbed.
“We’re right here. We’re not going anywhere,” Jack promised though he didn’t know if you could hear him.
***
The surgical waiting room was cold, sterile, and thankfully mostly empty at this time of day. Robby sat with his elbows on his knees, head bowed. Jack paced the perimeter. Dana sat in the corner, arms crossed as she tapped her foot. Heather methodically shredded a paper cup. None of them spoke. There was nothing to say that wouldn’t crack the fragile composure they all maintained.
The clock on the wall ticked past the first hour of surgery. Dana cleared her throat. “She tried to protect the baby. The paramedics said her body was curled around her abdomen when they found her. Even unconscious she was trying to shield it.”
Jack raked a hand through his hair and dropped into the seat beside Robby. He looked at Heather. “You said she was scared to tell us. Why?”
Heather looked up from the remains of her cup, uncertainty flickering across her face. “I’m not sure—”
“Please.” Jack’s voice cracked. “I need to understand.”
She glanced toward Robby who had raised his head at Jack’s question. “She confided in me as her friend. It’s not really my place.”
“She might not make it through this.” Robby’s words were rough, broken. “Please just tell us.”
Heather hesitated, loyalty warring with the gravity of the situation. The knowledge that they might lose you.
“When she left,” Dana said quietly, “I asked if she wanted to wait for both of you. She said ‘I think they’d probably be happier if I didn’t’.”
Robby flinched and Jack’s hands curled into fists. “She said that?” Jack asked, voice barely audible.
She nodded. “She looked defeated. Like she’d already resigned herself to some inevitable outcome.”
Heather sighed, setting aside the shredded cup. The unspoken permission in Dana’s revelation seemed to loosen her resolve.
“She was terrified,” Heather repeated her earlier words, looking between the two men. “When I did the ultrasound, when she saw the baby for the first time, she broke down completely. Not because she didn’t want it. She did, desperately. But she was convinced it would be the thing that finally pushed you both away.”
“But why?” Robby asked, genuine confusion in his voice. “Why would she think that?”
Heather shrugged. “Because children weren’t part of your plan together. She was afraid that you’d think she’d done it on purpose, that she’d lied about the IUD. That you’d think she’d manipulated you somehow by getting pregnant.”
“That’s ridiculous,” Jack muttered, running a hand over his face. “It takes three to tango in our case. We’re all responsible.”
“I don’t think she was thinking very rationally, Jack,” Heather continued. “She kept saying you’d hate her for wanting a baby, for complicating your lives. She’s always felt like an addition to your relationship rather than an equal part of it.”
Robby looked stricken. “She told you that? That she wasn’t part of this?”
Heather closed her eyes and sighed. When she opened them again, she looked between the two of them. “You two were married before she ever came into the picture. She loves both of you fiercely but she’s always…” She rubbed a hand across her forehead. “Her exact words to me today were ‘They don’t need me. They have each other. They were fine before I came along, and they’ll be fine after I’m gone’.”
“Jesus,” Jack whispered.
Robby pressed the heels of his hands against his eyes, shoulders hunched. The waiting room fell silent again as the two men contemplated your best friend’s words.
“We did this,” Robby said softly, not looking up. “We made her feel temporary.”
Jack didn’t argue. “I thought she knew. I thought she understood that what we have, the three of us, it’s permanent for me. That she’s not…optional.”
“But did we ever tell her that?” Robby finally looked up, eyes red-rimmed with unshed tears. “We never fucking told her that she’s necessary. That she’s the one that made us complete.”
Dana and Heather exchanged a glance, a silent acknowledgement that they were witnessing something intensely private. They moved to the door to give the men space to process.
As they reached the doorway, Emery Walsh stepped into the room, her face carefully neutral. Jack and Robby were on their feet in an instant.
***
Consciousness returned in waves, gentle at first, barely there, then receding before surging back stronger. You drifted through layers of awareness, vaguely registering the ticking of an IV pump, the roughness of the hospital sheets, then a dull throb that seemed to encompass your entire body.
When your eyes finally fluttered open, the room was dimly lit. It took a minute for your vision to focus on the two figures on the small couch against the wall. Jack and Robby, both asleep, leaned against each other. Robby’s head rested on Jack’s shoulder while Jack’s cheek pressed against Robby’s hair.
They were dressed in their scrubs and cargos. Both of their faces carried tension even in sleep. The sight of them brought an overwhelming sudden surge of emotion. The weight of the day just becoming too much. You turned away from them, curling on your side as much as the IV lines and monitors would allow. A sob rose in your throat and you pressed your face into the pillow trying to muffle the sound. But the pain in your ribs made it impossible to contain and a broken cry escaped your lips.
The sound roused them instantly. There was a rustle of movement then hurried footsteps approaching from both sides. Warm hands touched your shoulders, your head, gentle but urgent.
“Hey, hey, you’re okay,” Jack’s voice came from your right, raspy with sleep but alert with concern. “We’re here.”
“Can you look at us?” Robby asked from your left, his hand finding yours among the sheets. “Please, sweetheart.”
You turned back slowly, wincing at the pain that radiated from your head with the movement. Their faces hovered above you, etched with worry and relief in equal measure. Jack’s thumb gently wiped a tear from your cheek, careful of the bruising.
“Are you in pain?” he asked, already reaching for the call button. “I’ll get the nurse, they can give you something.”
“Yes,” you whispered then shook your head slightly. “No. I don’t know.” Your head was still foggy, fatigue clinging to it with desperate claws.
“Well, that’s helpful,” Robby said with a half-smile and more than a tinge of his usual sarcasm.
You flinched, the words landing on the still raw wounds from earlier. Instantly, his face crumpled with regret, his grip on your hand tightening.
“I’m sorry,” he said quickly. “God, I’m so fucking sorry. That was—” He broke off and cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for everything. For shutting you down when you needed to talk to me. For making you feel like you couldn’t tell us everything. I thought you were done with us. That you were leaving and I couldn’t bear to hear it.” His hand trembled in yours. “I’ve never been so scared in my life. Not until they brought you in covered with blood.”
You stared at him, struggling to reconcile this vulnerable confession with the man who had coldly dismissed you hours earlier. “You’re an idiot,” you finally said, your voice weak but certain.
Jack let out a strangled laugh. “She’s right. You are.”
“So are both of you if you think I’m going to argue with a woman who had a hole drilled in her skull.”
“A what?” Your hand flew to your head, encountering bandages where hair should be.
“Small burr hole,” Jack explained. “You had an epidural hematoma. They had to relieve the pressure.” His hand covered yours, guiding it away from the bandages. “You’re going to be fine. Full recovery expected.”
Your eyes went wide as fear swamped you. “What about the baby? I forgot about the baby. How could I for—”
“The baby’s fine,” Jack assured, cutting you off. “Strong heartbeat throughout. They’ll be monitoring closely but so far everything looks normal.”
Your hands flew to your belly. “When he was kicking me, I thought for sure that I’d lost it.”
“Doctors said you did everything right,” Robby said, his voice thick with emotion. “The way you curled around your stomach protected the baby from the worst of it. You were unconscious and still trying to keep it safe.”
“Do you know who did this, sweetheart?” Jack asked, tone darkening.
“Davidson.” You closed your eyes, the memory of his rage filled face flashing behind your lids. “The patient from this morning. Ahmad had to escort him out when Heather and I wouldn’t give him narcotics.”
A muscle twitched in Robby’s jaw. “The police will want to speak to you, but that’s not what matters now. You do. You and the baby.”
“I didn’t plan this,” you said suddenly, the fear that had been haunting you spilling out. “I wasn’t trying to trap you or anything.”
“We know,” Jack said softly. “Heather told us you just found out and that you were scared to tell us.”
“We thought we were too old for babies,” Robby admitted. “Set in our ways. Too busy with the hospital.”
Jack’s thumb made small circles on your skin. “Turns out we were just waiting for the right reason. The right person to have one with.”
“You’re not mad?” The question came out small, uncertain.
“Mad?” Robby shook his head. “Why would we be angry about getting something we didn’t even know we wanted until it was almost taken away?” He leaned in and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “We’re thrilled. Terrified, but thrilled.”
“Why didn’t you tell us you wanted children, baby?” Jack asked, a hint of hurt in his tone. “Why keep that from us? Did you really think we’d love you less for wanting a family?”
You closed your eyes feeling fresh tears leak from beneath your lids. “I thought I was replaceable. The new addition to something that was already perfect without me. I was afraid to ask for more, to need more than what you were already giving.”
“Look at me,” Robby said with such intensity that your eyes opened automatically. “You are not replaceable. You never were. You’re the piece that made us whole, not an afterthought.”
Jack nodded, his hand finding yours. “We’re forever, the three of us.”
“Four now,” Robby interjected, his hand finding your abdomen.
“There’s a lot to talk about, to figure out,” Jack said.
“Later,” you murmured, exhaustion swamping you again. “Stay.”
They moved chairs to either side of the bed so they could each hold one of your hands. As sleep reclaimed you, their quiet voices continued, discussing shifts and schedules, making places to ensure one of them would always be with you. You drifted off secure in the knowledge that you were an essential part of the whole. Equal. Necessary. Loved.