A Secret Birthright

That had lasted eight hours. Two hours longer than his longest estimate. Every second of the extra time, she’d known a worse hell than any she’d known before.

Guilt had consumed her. She’d sought inferior help initially, hoping it would suffice, save her from making contact with Fareed. What if she’d left it too late? What if she’d be punished for considering anything, no matter how momentous, ahead of Ryan’s health?

Rose hugged her, sensing her thoughts. “Stop it, Gwen. Everything is fine. Fareed’s assistant assured us it is.”

“But he didn’t.”

Fareed hadn’t come out to reassure her as he’d promised! What if that meant he couldn’t face her with what had happened yet?

Rose tsked. “You did see the mass casualty situation that hit the center like a tornado, didn’t you? With his being the chief around here and with God knows how many lives to save, I’m sure putting your mind to rest personally plunged to the bottom of his priorities.”

Logic droned that Rose was right. But hysteria was drowning it out. They wouldn’t let her see Ryan in Recovery or ICU. Fareed’s orders. That was six mutilating hours ago.

Suddenly, Fareed appeared at the other end of the expansive waiting area.

She rose, could barely stand erect as his long strides ate the maddening distance between them. Then out of the blue, he was swamped by people. Other patients’ frantic families.

He stopped his advance, turned to them with calm, patient and what must have been very detailed reassurance because it defused their tension. By the time he at last excused himself with utmost courteousness and resumed his path to her, she was at screaming pitch.

As he stopped before her, those fiery eyes piercing her, she felt he’d trodden on the heart that had crashed at his feet.

“It all went wrong.”

Chapter Six

Gwen’s lifeless statement barely scratched the surface of the terror in her heart.

Fareed hadn’t smiled at her. He’d smiled at the others. She could only interpret his intensity as bad news. The worst…

He smiled. Her knees buckled.

“Nothing went wrong.” His smile broadened as he caught her by the waist, stopped her from folding to the ground. “I already told you that—well, I sent Akram to tell you that everything went perfectly right.”

“Oh, you magnificent man, thank you!” Rose charged him, made him relinquish his hold on Gwen and squeezed him in an exuberant hug.

Gwen felt the life force that had felt extracted from her slowly begin to reenter her body. Then he put Rose at arm’s length, smiled down at her. “But I can’t take much credit. Ryan did most of the work. From the pre-op preps to what my team told me felt like ordering his very tissues to assist me, he was the most interactive patient I ever had. I’ve never had a surgery go so smoothly.”

Rose laughed her delight. “That’s our Ryan! But we’ll just pretend that you did have an equal role in this, and you’ll accept our thanks like a good sport.”

“As long as you realize the extent of my contribution, I’m happy to accept.”

Their elation hammered at Gwen, demanding to breach her numbness. But the tidal wave hovered at the periphery of her mind, scared to crash and sweep her fears away.

“So why won’t you let me see him?”

He turned to her, eyes flaring with sympathy. “Because children look heartrending when they’re in ICU and I wanted to spare you the sight.”

“That was why you left me to go insane out here for six hours? Didn’t you realize I’d prefer having my heart rent by seeing him over going mad by not seeing him?”

His eyes widened with her every word, before they narrowed again with self-derision. “My concern was evidently misplaced. Guess I can’t put myself in a mother’s shoes after all.”

Her frustration turned inward, a flame that burned her blood with mortification. “God, no…I didn’t mean to imply that…”

“Don’t apologize for loving Ryan too much. But even after you blasted me for being so blithely insensitive to your needs, I am still unable to meet them. I have to be this infuriating professional and insist on my position. For now. I promise you he’s in perfect condition and that you’ll see him in a few hours.”

“Please, let me see him now. A look is all I want!”

“What you don’t want is the image of him sedated and inert and hooked to tubes and monitors burned into your memory. You may know what you’ll see, but seeing it for real is something totally different. And I refuse to let you inflict another mental scar on yourself. I’ve seen parents suffer debilitating anxiety long after their children are cured, and you’ve suffered enough of that. So even though you probably want to kill me right now, you might want to thank me later.”

“But I don’t want…” She paused, groaned. “Are—are you doing this on purpose?”

He chuckled, winked at Rose who joined him in chuckling. “Of course, I am. One of my PhDs is in distraction. But while it must feel like eternity now, the hours will pass, then I’ll transfer him to a private suite and you’ll be with him from then on.” His logic was putting out the fires of dread and desperation. But the clamoring of her heart wouldn’t subside. He silenced her turmoil. “Until then, how about you ladies join me for a meal? I’ve long passed starving, and knowing you, Gwen, I’m sure we were on that same path together.”

Rose waved her hand. “Oh, you two go ahead. Emad told me to call him as soon as you made an appearance, and to meet him in the center’s restaurant. He promised a meal to top the Cordon Bleu he treated me to in L.A., and I sure want to see how this can be achieved.” Rose hugged her. “See? You should always listen to me. Now listen to me and take care of yourself. You won’t do Ryan any good if you collapse. You’re even allowed to smile without sinning against motherhood.”

“I’ll take care of her.” Fareed took Gwen’s elbow. “I’ll even brave the impossible chore of making her smile.” He tilted his head at her from his prodigious height. “Shall we?”

Gwen didn’t even nod. She could do nothing but stare after Rose, as she walked away with her phone at her ear, and let Fareed steer her wherever he wished.

She registered glimpses of their journey down the halls and corridors spread in reflective granite. She barely noticed the people whose eyes held deference for Fareed and curiosity for her on their way to an elevator straight out of a sci-fi movie. She didn’t feel it move, but when its brushed-steel doors slid open moments later, it was into a room the size of a tennis court, with twenty-foot, floor-to-ceiling windows spanning its arched side.