The Trouble With Him: A Secret Pregnancy Romance (The Forbidden Love 3)

I grab his hand, dragging him to the bar. “Alistair, one more for the road. You know what, make it on the house for everyone.”

Austin chuckles beside me while Alistair looks concerned. “Ava, sweetheart, that’s a fair bit of coin.”

“Hey, what’s the point of all this coin if I’m fucking miserable,” I shout back at him before I grab the microphone, standing on top of the bar. “Drinks are on the house!”

A loud roar erupts from the crowd. People push forward to the bar as Alistair and his wait staff busily begin pouring drinks. I lower my body, though careful to keep my legs in place to avoid a show. My body begins to wobble until I lose my balance, and Austin catches me while I fall into his arms.

“You’re crazy, Ava.”

I touch his nose with my finger, making him squirm. His eyes spark, the hazel staring back at me as he simpers. For a fleeting moment, my heart stills, but I’m quickly distracted by Alistair sliding two glasses of whisky toward Austin and me.

We both take a glass, raising it to each other to clink them together.

“To new beginnings, a new year,” he praises.

“I’ll drink to that.”

Three

Austin

“Time of death, eighteen hundred hours and thirteen minutes.”

The head physician, Dr. Trainor, quietly advises another doctor to accompany him in delivering the news to the family just outside in the corridor. A necessary task but, nonetheless, emotionally draining.

He’s gone.

A kid—just shy of six years old.

All because of an allergic reaction to a peanut butter and jelly sandwich another kid ate beside him.

Inside the ER, the team begins the task of preparing a post-mortem. Despite every trained staff member being called in to assist, we did everything possible to save him from the moment his mother carried him through the doors, hysterical as her son lay in her arms unresponsive.

A colleague, Grayson, places his hand on my shoulder, squeezing it tight. He’s a second-year resident, and I’m just shy of completing my first year. Over the past twelve months, I’ve witnessed deaths and can count every single one of them—drug overdoses, car accidents, heart attacks to name a few.

But never a child.

We work busily now, following protocol as Dr. Trainor leaves the area and heads down the hall. My body tenses, waiting for the shrilling scream, and then—we all stop the moment it echoes down the hallway. A sound so animalistic, it tears your conscience apart, and the questions beg to be answered, could we have done more? The answer, medically speaking, is no. An entire team of professionals did everything and anything to save him.

And that’s what I repeat in my head. I’ve spent years studying, but the first times are always the hardest. All I can do now is put on a brave face and perform my job to help other patients who need my attention. Life must go on, despite a family outside wishing they were dead as well.

Time become

s a blur—the emergency room’s relentless energy doesn’t allow me a moment to stop. Tonight will be the busiest, with alcohol poisoning being the number one reason for admissions. I’m not rostered on all night, though my shift extends two hours overdue to a couple being admitted for hyperthermia while falling into the Hudson River.

When I officially clock off for the day, I stand inside the staff room with my head against the locker. My eyes are fixated on the ceiling, a blank canvas aside from the blinding fluorescent light. There’s a tightness inside my chest that won’t dissipate, no matter how hard I try to control my hitched breathing.

The sound of the door opening breaks my trance. A fellow resident, Lane, walks in and notices me standing quietly. She opens her locker and retrieves her items in silence, then pulls her long ginger hair out of the bun it was styled in.

“It was tough today,” she says, her voice low while dropping her gaze to the floor. “You did the best you could, Austin. You did everything you could, as did the team.”

“Then why does it feel like it wasn’t enough?”

“Because he’s gone. It was his time, as devastating as that may be,” Lane professes softly. “You’re going to have times when the world is shining, and you’ve saved a life. But there are also the darker moments when all efforts were not enough. This is the nature of the beast, and we’re bound to face these challenges if not daily.”

I think about what she says, but the anger is a force desperate for destruction. What if I tried harder? What if the team tried harder? What if we fought for a bit longer and a miracle occurred? All these questions spin like a vicious cycle inside my exhausted state of mind.

“Listen, shifts over,” Lane reminds me, releasing a sigh. “What are your plans tonight? I’m heading to a friend’s place for a rooftop party. You’re welcome to join me if you have no plans. It’s best you get out with people and don’t be alone tonight.”