he forced himself to keep walking. But the distance felt as if yet another seismic shift shook his heart, sending the cracks that already crisscrossed throughout splitting wider than the Grand Canyon.
“ANYBODY KNOW WHERE Dr. Latham might be?”
Bree had asked that question at least a dozen times in the past half hour as she’d roamed the hospital hallways. The emergency department, the surgical floors, the Trauma ICU, the NICU. She got the same answer as all the previous times, which was no.
Where in the world was he? And why wouldn’t he answer his darn phone? She was positive he wouldn’t have just gone on home while Emma was in critical condition. Knew that she’d just missed him when she’d finally been able to go see how Emma was doing. Knew he’d been to the NICU to see the baby, too, who was thankfully doing remarkably well, considering his terrifyingly abrupt entry into the world.
But all that had been over an hour after she’d left the ER. Dr. Kurz had insisted on a battery of tests and X-rays to make sure Bree didn’t have some kind of underlying injury that might surface later, which had been a frustrating delay. But she’d known it was necessary. Head injuries were no joke, and, since she’d been briefly knocked out, she was glad she didn’t seem to have a concussion. So all she had to deal with, which in comparison was nothing, were the aches and pains she felt from head to toe now that the crisis with Emma was over. At least, over for now, but her condition was still far from stable.
Maybe there was someone else who just might need her right then in a way that unconscious Emma didn’t. How could Sean not need comfort after the shock and scare of nearly losing his sister? And if he did, no matter what, she wanted to be there for him.
His family was so very different from her own. It almost seemed that being aggravated with one another sometimes was part of their love and closeness, and Bree couldn’t figure that out. Her own family’s disappointments and frustrations with one another ran deep, keeping them farther apart instead of closer.
She knew from the way Sean talked about his mother and sister that he loved them unconditionally. Knew from the indulgent expression she’d seen on his face most of the time he was looking at them, from the smile in his eyes, even when he was giving them grief about something. Obviously similar to the way Emma had told her their father had loved them. Bree wished that she could have met the important, missing piece to their family. Gone, but still with them in their hearts, in so many ways, every day.
Bree’s family? From the time she was little, she’d learned excelling at something was the best way to get her father’s attention. Winning a tennis match, or a surf competition, being on the dean’s list, getting into medical school. He’d left her and her mother when Bree was ten years old to marry a high-powered lawyer, and after that she rarely saw him. He did keep in touch, though, sending her notes when she did something he approved of, or had her photo in a surf magazine. The occasional phone call from him? Those were surprising and happy moments that showed he was proud of her, and made her feel pretty proud of herself, too.
She remembered chiming in with him many of the times he criticized her mother for focusing all her attention on her only child. Consumed with Bree’s life and her accomplishments, hovering and smothering, which drove her crazy. He’d often asked her mom why she never had any interest in actually doing something worthwhile on her own, when she easily could have done with her trust-fund money behind her, and Bree knew her mother’s lack of accomplishment and independence was why he’d left. Now that she was older and more mature, Bree felt bad that she’d gone along with her dad’s unpleasant comments, though her mother’s feelings never seemed hurt by it, thankfully.
She shook her head fiercely. Why was she even thinking about all that now, anyway? She’d learned long ago not to care. Must just be from worrying about Sean and Emma and their mom. Feeling unsettled after such an awful day.
Time to focus on what was important here, which was how Sean must be feeling. She knew holding him, comforting him, would rip open the wound on her heart she was trying hard to heal, but their time together in the ER today had already done that. Maybe he wouldn’t open up to her, especially considering their present relationship. Non-relationship. But she had to at least try.
Except it was looking as if she’d never find him. The longer she looked, the bigger the worry in her gut grew. Until the aha! moment came that should have occurred to her when she first started searching. “Of course,” she whispered to herself as she pivoted toward the elevator. Part of her dreaded heading where she knew he’d be. Had avoided going there for months because she didn’t want to think about the last time she’d been there with him. To feel the deep disappointment drench her with disbelief and pain all over again.
She stepped out onto the hospital’s rooftop, and the cool, night breeze of August soothed her sore face. To her left was the brightly lit helipad, but her attention went straight to the benches in shadow to her right. To the balcony railing that, in one direction, overlooked the twinkling lights of the city and the other, the ocean. And just as she’d expected, the unmistakably tall form of Sean Latham stood there leaning against the railing, his broad back to her.
She stood there a moment, letting the feelings wash over her. The good ones along with the really bad ones. Thinking about the joyful times they’d spent up here celebrating a good outcome with a patient they’d worked on together. The times they’d joked and laughed about some silly, unimportant thing going on at the hospital. The times they’d held one another when things hadn’t gone so well.
The tender times they’d just needed to get away from the hustle of the hospital and had come up here to smell the ocean breeze, to kiss and talk and connect with one another.
As she stared at his back, the memory of the last time they’d stood here together pinched her heart. She’d been so angry, so hurt, so confused, she’d yanked off the engagement ring he’d given her and thrown it right at him. The blinding, midday sunshine had caught the diamond, sending a prism of sharp white light searing across both of them just before the ring bounced off his muscular chest, pinged along the concrete and dived right off the side of the building.
At that moment, she hadn’t cared. Later? She’d felt a deep regret at losing that beautiful ring, and what it had meant. Or what she’d thought it meant. She wouldn’t admit it to a living soul, but for days after she’d searched the streets below, finding nothing but bits of asphalt and leaves and trash until she’d finally given up.
Probably, though, it was all symbolic. That ring had disappeared along with the future she’d thought she and Sean would have together.
She willed her feet to move toward him, reminding herself she wasn’t here to dredge up and rehash the past. Her goal was to be Sean’s friend tonight. To be a sympathetic ear after an unbelievably horrible day and uncertain future for Emma, not to mention the future of the baby who just might still lose his mother.
She moved to within a few inches of Sean’s side and gripped the railing, feeling the warmth of his arm near hers. Took in the scene in front of them, thinking about the disconnect of it all. How peaceful and tranquil it seemed compared to the churning going on inside her and doubtless Sean, too. To the life-and-death battles going on that very minute inside the hospital.
He didn’t move, didn’t speak, and she wondered if maybe he just wanted to be alone. But after looking for him the past hour, she was going to offer comfort if it killed her. Then leave if it wasn’t welcome.
“How are you doing?” she asked.
“Fine.”
Okay... She drew the cool breeze into her lungs and tried again. “What do you think about Emma’s prognosis?”
“Your guess is as good as mine. Liver laceration’s been repaired, ruptured spleen removed. C-section’s closed. Chest tube’s not draining any more blood, so they’ve removed it. Broken arm’s been put back together, and her broken ribs are going to