Spencer
The newborn's skin was impossibly thin, bluish and almost translucent beneath the harsh glow of the overhead lights. My gloved hands hovered over her miniature chest, and I suppressed a tremor before taking the thin umbilical catheter between my fingers.Focus, Spencer. Stay here with her. She's alive. She needs you now.
The past crowded my mind, stuffing my logical train of thought with memories of gray skin and lifeless lips. The flatline beep from months ago pierced my ears, and my fingers threatened to twitch again. A bead of sweat slid down my temple, stinging as it mixed with the antiseptic fog of the NICU. The tiny ventilator hissed steadily, the rhythm out of sync with the pounding in my ears. Cold sweat pooled beneath my scrubs, chilling me despite the warmth of the room.
Marleen's voice cut through the fog. "Dr. Spencer? The line's slipping."
I nodded, jaw tight, and forced myself back into the moment. Focus. The baby,thisbaby, wasn'tthatbaby. I steadied myfingers, guiding the catheter tip with excruciating care. My pulse hammered, but the line finally caught, threading into place with a click I almost didn't trust.
I exhaled slowly, glancing up to confirm stable vitals. The numbers blinked green. Safe. For now. No thanks to my stupid hands and the ever-present fears that I could fuck something up. The baby who had passed last summer hadn't died because of a failing on my part, and we lost patients all the time. But I couldn't shake that one. Something about the event had tattooed itself over my self-confidence, marring my belief that I actually knew what the fuck I was doing.
My shoulders sagged. It had been a long fucking night, and my day wasn't likely to get easier. I'd thought that working a night shift before my "wedding" would keep me busy, but I'd underestimated how draining my job was lately. It wasn't the normal grind of long hours and scrupulous work; the trauma of losing that baby siphoned energy out of my mind and body at impossible rates. I wasn't sure how much longer I could pretend I was okay here.
Marleen spared me a glance over her wire-rim glasses. "Isn't your shift over, Dr. Spencer?"
A gentle, not-so-gentle, "Get the fuck out of here," from my favorite nurse. Marleen had been a NICU nurse far longer than anyone I'd ever met. It was a demanding job, and at this point, I knew she carried on from sheer stubbornness and selfless will to help these babies. Our NICU was relentless, and it only got busier every year. Life-saving medicine had come a long way to help the most vulnerable of our population, but that meant busier Neonatal Intensive Care Units and overworked staff.
I chuffed out a laugh, glancing around the NICU with bleary eyes. "Yes. I'll go make sure Dr. Kata is here. Thanks."
I grabbed my tablet and went to the sink to wash my hands, half my thoughts on my patients and the ever-present dangerthat NICU babies faced and half on the fact that I was getting married today. To Arabella Rook. A hollow pit formed in my stomach at the thought, not because it wasmarriage, per se, but because it didn't mean anything. Arabella didn't trust her own left boot much less my whole self. I was certain we would sign that paper, and she would be gone again, ignoring my existence and struggling on that ranch by herself.
Not your problem, I reminded myself.She's not actually going to be your wife. She can make her own life choices.
As I swung into the hallway, heading for the locker room on this floor, I passed Dr. Kata and her third-year resident, Dr. Rashawn. Dr. Kata's intelligent gaze locked on mine, and I braced myself. "Dr. Spencer, you're still here. What a surprise." Dr. Kata wore her long, black hair in a silky ponytail as usual, and behind red-rimmed glasses, her sardonic expressionalmostmade me feel guilty.
"Sarcasm is such a great fit for you, Kata. Have you passed it on to Rashawn or," I glanced at the younger doctor with amusement, "have you managed to escape that side effect of residency?"
Dr. Rashawn fixed me with a half-lidded look of derision. "I am blissfully straightforward, thank you."
Rashawn probably was the least sarcastic person I had ever met. As a young, black female in a white male-dominated space, I didn't doubt that she needed to be. And I respected the hell out of her for it. She and Kata were exceptional doctors with more compassion and intelligence between them than I could ever hope to possess. If I didn'tneeda job to survive, I'd have handed my position to Rashawn in a heartbeat. As it was, it was looking like she would need to find a position elsewhere after her residency.
I held up my hands in surrender. "You're the better man, Rashawn." To Kata, I said, "Anton needs her glucose checked and Gulbrand had two apnea episodes last night."
"Is Marleen in today?" Rashawn asked hopefully.
"Thank God, yes," I said, sliding my hands into my white coat pockets.
"We'll get a full report then," Kata assured me. "Go rest. You look like you need three days off and a strong drink."
"I need a cheeseburger first," I grinned. "Thanks, Kata."
She waved as they continued down the hall. "Swap it for turkey, meathead."
I flexed my biceps with an exaggerated grunt. "For these muscles? Come on."
Rashawn made a gagging sound, and then they were gone, laughing between themselves. I got no love in this hospital. None. Despite being bone tired with half-ton weights attached to my eyelids, I changed into gym shorts and a tank top in the locker room and headed for the hospital employee gym. My whole body buzzed uncomfortably with pent-up nerves, which made no logical sense to me. This fake marriage thing shouldn't make me nervous, but it wasn't like it was a small ceremony at the courthouse. It was an enormous affair with wealthy guests as witnesses and thousands of dollars put into the details.
I couldn't care less what Sylvia sank her money into, but I would be on full display for random strangers to see. My mother would be there, and she was in on the plan, but itfeltkind of real. Maybe if I was actually in love, it wouldn't have been quite so foreboding, but as it was, I was partaking in one of the most elaborate lies I could imagine. Something about that made me twitchy.
If burpees and weights didn't shake loose my nerves, then I supposed I'd have to take Kata's advice. I saw drinks in my future.
Chapter eight
Arabella
Iarrived at the venue with fifteen minutes to spare. That was plenty of time to jump into whatever powdered sugar confection my mother had chosen for my wedding gown, right?
Sylvia's face was saying no. She glared at me from her padded, damask chair in the bridal suite as I tumbled through the door, my pink hair askew and my face glistening with sweat. Panting, I waved. "I made it."
