Dr. Fake It - A Possessive Doctor Romance

“It’s a nice day out,” he said as we took the stairs down to the ground floor. “I thought we might eat outside.”

“What, like a picnic?”

“Exactly like a picnic.” He patted the bundle.

I laughed and skipped down the steps. “I don’t think I’ve ever been on one.”

“What, really?”

“Sure. I’m a city girl, remember?”

“You can have a picnic in the city. All you need is a blanket and food.”

“City girls don’t do blankets and food. Nature is the worst.”

He laughed as we reached the ground floor and walked through the lobby. People were jammed into the waiting chairs and the nursing staff looked overwhelmed but still calm and in charge.

“Fairmount is one of the biggest freaking parks in the area, and you never bothered going?”

“City girl,” I repeated again. “I don’t know how many times you need to hear it.”

“You’re nuts.” We walked out onto the sidewalk and he turned, skirting along the front of the building, then walked up a set of short stairs. A small grassy area with some benches and a fountain was set off to the side, a cute little park in the shadow of Mercy General.

He opened the bag and spread a blanket out on the grass. I sat down, crossed my legs, and looked around. A guy with ratty jeans and a stained sweatshirt leered at me from a bench and a couple stood nearby arguing about something.

“Real nice,” I said.

He rolled his eyes and gave me a little box. It was takeout from the nearby deli, my favorite sandwich, and a small bottle of water. I drank it, dug into the sandwich, and leaned back on my elbow to watch him eat.

He caught me looking. “What?”

“I’m just wondering why you’re going out of your way like this.”

“I know you’re bored. I feel bad.”

“You don’t need to feel bad.”

“It’s not pity, it’s more… there’s not much you can do right now, and I want to do my best to take care of you.”

“Chivalrous and handsome. What a man.”

He laughed. “All right, fine, you don’t have to accept my kindness.”

“The thing is, I know your kindness tends to come with strings.”

He gave me a little look and put his food back. He wiped his hands on the blanket then leaned back and met my gaze. “Okay then, maybe I do have an ulterior motive.”

“I knew it.” I nodded at him. “Go ahead, spill it.”

“I’ve been thinking about what to do with your mother.”

I raised an eyebrow. “I thought she was staying here.”

“She can, for a while longer at least, but it won’t be forever. We need to plan for the future.”

I shifted a little, feeling frustrated. Every time I thought things were settled, he managed to pull the rug out from under me and make things difficult. I wanted my mom to stay where she was, right where there were nurses to take care of her. Fiona was so kind and patient, and I kept thinking that if mom stayed in Mercy with Fiona and the rest, then maybe she’d wake up one day, if only she were somewhere comfortable.

“I thought we had planned.” My voice must’ve come out harder than I intended, because his expression closed and he looked away.

“I spoke with a colleague. We agree that if we remove your mother’s breathing tube, and she breathes on her own, then she’ll be fairly stable and we’d be able to move her wherever we wanted.”

“Remove her— you’re being serious?”

He nodded. “It might not work. There are risks.”

“Gavin.”

“As your doctor, I think you should consider it.”

“You’re not her doctor anymore, remember?”

“I know, but—”

“I’m not taking out her breathing tube. I’m not moving her.”

“Erica, please. I know this is hard, but if we take this risk and she can breathe on her own, then there’s a better chance she might wake up.”

I stared at him and tried to let the words wash over me, but I didn’t quite believe him. He never said anything about this before, never mentioned her breathing on her own as something that could help. I got the sense that he was lying to me, or at least exaggerating a claim to get me to do what he wanted—and I resented the hell out of that.

“I want her to wake up,” I said softly, “but I don’t want to take risks with her life.”

“We might need to move her. Hell, we might need to leave the damn state if Cosimo keeps coming after us.”

I shook my head and stood. “We’re not discussing this. The tube stays in.”

“Erica. Sit down and think about it. We need to be flexible and ready for anything.”

I turned away from him, shaking with anger. He didn’t understand—how could he understand? This wasn’t his mother he was talking about. Mom was some other patient to him, another patient he needed to care for, but wasn’t emotionally attached to. She was a body, and he thought about her as coldly and logically as he thought about anyone else.