Chapter Text
“I heard he cheated.”
“Oh my god–”
“Yeah, I heard that too!”
The voices were hushed but sharp. A whisper that could make your ear bleed with how fast the words were thrown around. John Shen wasn’t listening to this particular conversation. He had already heard this theory from the PEDS floor when he went up to check on a child he had helped Abbot save from a drowning incident. Despite John being close by, the nurses that were huddled on the other side of The Hub didn’t stop their gossip.
Princess was in the small group – unsurprising, John thought – and peeked over at John past various shoulders. She ducked back down into the huddle, “I haven’t heard anything as to why they broke up,” she said, “but I did hear that she didn’t even talk to him before she left. He came home from a shift and everything of hers was gone.”
A redheaded woman clicked her tongue. She was a travel nurse from Ohio. “That means he cheated. Women don’t just up and leave like that over anything else.” John Shen sucked in a deep breath through his teeth and tried to focus on the computer screen in front of him. He was trying to find any information on a supplement that came from overseas. His patient stated that she was using it for weight loss and mental clarity, but with her high levels of mercury in her system, John doubted it would do anything for her.
“He’s a good guy,” Nurse Jesse hissed over the small group. He eyed the redhead before continuing his defense. “You don’t know him or her but their love is something real, something deep.” The redhead rolled her eyes. Princess looked up at Jesse expectantly, silently digging for anything new to add to the gossip mill. “He hasn’t talked about it.” He told her. “And he’s not going to tell anyone who works here because they’re all blabbermouths.”
“Shut up,” the Tagalog was quick and while Jesse didn’t know what Princess said, he could understand her face when she said it. He shook his head at the group before stepping away to help with an incoming patient.
John Shen didn’t even pretend to read the FDA article anymore. He ran a hand through his hair and cleared his throat before looking towards the nurses. “I didn’t cheat. She didn’t cheat.” He said. Wide-eyed and startled, the nurses looked over at John. He continued, “I got home from a shift and she was gone. Her clothes, her lamp, her trinkets, her ugly cat.” John cleared his throat. He could feel the lump forming. He didn’t want to get emotional here. “People break up.”
The Ohio nurse took in John’s demeanor from over the lens of her readers. Her mouth was squished over to the right and she made a small, dissatisfied hum before pushing the glasses back up her nose and her feet started to move towards another doctor. Princess’s eyes were wide but she tried her best to give John a sympathetic look. She was sympathetic to John’s situation, but it didn’t mean she didn’t want to know all the juicy details.
A few other nurses that were huddled around, quietly dispersed as well. As much as they wanted to continue to ponder over what happened, it didn’t mean they wanted to do it with John himself. Princess stepped over to John, leaning onto the counter of The Hub. She rubbed her lips together, thinking of a way to ask him without sounding rude or harsh. “Did you guys have a big fight?” Her voice was respectful, but John still gritted his teeth. He shook his head once, stiffly. “Do you know where she is?”
John had a hand on the computer mouse, his fingers twitched. “Uh,” he cleared his throat, “She sent me an email to let me know that she was safe and… fine.”
Princess’s brows rose up on her face. “Oh?” She said, “She didn’t say where she went?”
John shook his head again. “Probably New England, she has family in Mass.” Princess twiddled with her fingers for a moment, letting a silence fall between the two. John’s grip on the mouse in his hand tightened and he begged for Princess to be called away inside his head. He knew as soon as that information left his mouth, it would be spread throughout the whole hospital before his lunch break.
“Whatever happened, Dr. Shen,” Princess’s voice was quiet and she stuttered a bit, “I hope you’re able to heal.” John looked over at Princess, a bit taken aback, and gave her a closed lipped smile. “I really did think the two of you would get married.” After a beat, John simply gave a curt nod before getting up and heading towards the staff break room.
***
It barely took an hour before Princess gabbed to everyone about the new gossip she had acquired. And of course people took her word for it since it came directly from John himself. But even so, the rumors still lived as no one knew exactly why the two of you broke up. And at this point, John wouldn’t mind if he had to die being ideally one of the two people on this earth who knew.
The rest of his shift went by okay. Abbot seemed to be keeping an extra eye on him and Ellis didn’t give him as much shit as she usually did each shift. Every nurse that interacted with him seemed to do their job with a sad look on their face or with a side eye and pursed lips. John seemed to think that the public opinion on him at PTMC was pretty split down the middle. John was able to leave swiftly after handing off his cases to Mel King. Mel seemed to be a day or two behind on the hospital gossip, so she talked to him like normal. Something he was grateful for.
When he got home to his apartment, he dropped his bag onto the floor with a thud, kicked off his shoes and collapsed onto the couch. His apartment seemed colder for the past few days. There were awkward and odd spots that were void of things. His couch used to have pillows on them. His shelves had more trinkets and picture frames scattered across them. Even his fridge had missing spots. An expensive cheese from New York used to sit on the top shelf. He thought it was gross but now he yearned to hear the crinkle of the paper wrapping and quiet hum of approval come from you as you always took a small nibble before cutting bigger pieces off for a sandwich or snack board.
He debated clicking on the TV for some white noise but instead ran a hand over his face, eyes squeezed shut as he let out a groan. “Fuck,” he muttered. He didn’t want to do it but he knew it was the only way to communicate with you now. It sent a bubble of frustration through his chest, knowing his number was blocked. He remembered calling and calling and calling. He remembered sending out texts that would only go unresponsive. He didn’t know what to do that night he came home and you were gone.
He remembered calling Jack Abbot, thinking that somewhere in his thick military skull, he would magically know how to track you down. He remembered Abbot on the phone with him, talking to him in short clipped responses, trying to get the most concise information from John.
“Are you sure she’s missing?”
“Of course I’m sure she’s fucking missing, Jack!” John yelled at Jack more than he should have but who could blame him, John was scared. “What if she’s fucking dead?”
Jack Abbot corrected John swiftly with a disagreeing click, “She’s not dead, John.” A moment of pause. “Are things missing?”
“Missing?” John stood in the middle of his hallway, confused that Jack would even ask that question. Jack rambled on the phone, if things looked like they were messed with, maybe it was a burglary. If things weren’t taken, then sure, she could have been taken. But if things were gone, especially in an organized fashion, maybe there was a more logical reason for it. John remembered Jack’s voice fading into a constant muffle of sound as his eyes finally focused for the first time since he had gotten home that night.
He saw his oak door. He saw the side table next to it. One that he had before he had met you, but you picked out the decorative bowl that sat atop of it at a thrift store in New Jersey. It would be the catcher for keys, wallets, spare money. All of which he saw as they were subconsciously dropped into the bowl by him when he came home that night. A built in habit that was akin to breathing now. He stepped towards it as he eyed the odd object in the bowl.
It was a lone key to the apartment. Not attached to a ring of any sorts and it looked cleaner almost, like it had been cleaned before being placed into its final resting place.
Your key.
Jack was yelling at John by now, making sure the young Asian man wasn’t spiraling. “John!” His name finally cut through to him and John let out a mumbled acknowledgement. “What’s up?”
John didn’t answer right away. His eyes went down from the bowl to the shoe rack. There were empty spaces in it. Where were your running shoes? The heels you only wore when you went to a fancy restaurant? What about your flip flops for the beach? All gone.
“John…”
As if he was a blind man finally being able to see for the first time in his life, he noticed them. He noticed them all. The missing throw on the recliner. The missing candles you liked to burn after a long day. The missing coffee mugs that you liked to get from places you would go – from amusement parks and big cities to a mom n’ pop convenience store in the middle of nowhere.
Everything that was yours was gone.
You were gone.
He remembered his phone buzzing in his hand. Jack Abbot had hung up on John and then called him again and again. John blinked a few times and then answered, “She left.” John had spent the rest of that night yelling, crying, cursing, and trying to contact you. It wasn’t until around 4am the next morning that he had gotten an email.
It lit up his phone screen and his face in a flash. Groaning and sore, John opened it through the sight of one of his eyes. He didn’t want to move his smushed up face from the warm pillow of his cold bed. Tapping through his phone like he was drunk, he finally focused on the words:
John–
I am safe. I am okay.
But I cannot do this anymore.
I am sorry.
The thing that really grinded his gears was the “SENT FROM IPHONE” at the end of it. He read the email more times than he could have counted. He didn’t remember reading something over and over and over again since he was in Pre-Med. So eager to become a doctor and save people. So eager to be looked at as impressive and attractive. So eager to live his life to the fullest as a bachelor but he threw that all away during his second year of residency. He threw it all away for you.
Now as he sat on his couch a week after the night you left, he thumbed at his phone, finding the email. He tapped on the reply button and let out a breath. He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know if he wanted to say something. He had a right to be upset. How could you just walk away without even talking to him about it? How could you pack up all your shit and not turn back without a glance? How could you leave him for one… small… mistake?
“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” John repeated the word like a mantra, like a spell. It seemed to calm him as his thumbs began to dance across his phone keyboard like they were possessed. He couldn’t stop them even if he wanted to.
I wish we could have talked before you left.
I wish we could have said goodbye.
I wish I could fix it all.
I wish I could kiss you.
I wish I could touch you.
I love you.
I’m sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry im sorry
***
“All I’m saying is that if you want her back, then go and get her.” Nurse Donnie said, “You know where her family lives. Didn’t you visit them last summer? Somewhere on the Cape? If you go there and explain that you need to just talk to her, maybe they’ll reach out to her and you know, let her know?” John didn’t even bother looking over at the talkative nurse. Donnie was a buddy of his, they would hit up the local bars together after a shift and when John first started his residency, they would go and hunt for women together. Something to bring home, something to brag about to each other.
John tried his best to read the names of patients on the board above his head but each one looked like gibberish. He’d been on shift for about four hours and each new hour was more painful than the last. None of the patients that were on the brink of death made a recovery. Every case from the Emergency waiting room seemed to be a brand new illness or problem and John had to do cross referencing and research and get second and third opinions on just about everything.
“I don’t think she would appreciate me harassing her parents.”
Donnie made a face. “They love you, yeah?” Donnie paused for an answer but just continued when he didn’t get one. “You’re not a bad man, John. There was just a… misunderstanding… or something.”
John Shen let out a chuckle, one bare of humor. “Yeah, a misunderstanding.” Donnie quieted down. He shuffled in his spot and adjusted the tablet in his hands more than a few times.
“Bro,” Donnie’s voice was quieter, and he spoke slowly, so he wouldn’t spook John off. “John– what happened?”
John finally looked over at Donnie Donahue. John thought about it, for a split second he considered telling Donnie right then and there, but instead, John gave Donnie a pat on the shoulder that ended in a squeeze. John told Donnie without any words to just let it go.
***
While on his lunch, John stood hunched over the railing that protected him from falling to his death below. He held half of a sandwich in his hand, chewing slowly as he watched the life in the night slowly drift to an occasional car or person finding their way on the dimly lit streets.
John didn’t bother to look to see who pushed their way onto the roof as the door made a loud crank of noise and a soft slam as it fell back into place. John took another bite of his sandwich. The bread was making his throat dry but he didn’t want to bend down to grab his energy drink that sat on the ledge beside his foot.
Jack Abbot was quiet as he found himself a spot next to John. Jack made himself comfortable. With his boxy lunchbox slung over his shoulder, Jack set it onto the concrete between him and John and started to dig through it. John could hear the crinkle of plastic and the pop of a soda can. Jack took a swig of his soda and then placed it next to his lunchbox. Then he made himself comfortable against the railing, copying John’s position, looking out into the Pittsburgh night. Jack unwrapped his own sandwich and took a bite. Both men stood there on the roof and chewed.
“Thank you,” John cleared his throat after swallowing another bite of his food. Jack looked over at him with a raised eyebrow in question. “For not telling people… about…”
Jack waved his free hand at John. “It’s not my business to tell.” Jack said, “Why would I try and make you more miserable than you already are?”
“I’m not miserable.”
Jack snorted. Jack took a big bite of his sandwich, muffled more chuckles that were trying to bubble up. “I’ve been through breakups, boy – you are miserable.” John finished his sandwich and crumbled the suran wrap in his hand, balling it up in his palm and giving it a squeeze. Of course he was miserable! How could he not be? John Shen saw you as the love of his life.
“She left. And it was my fault.”
Jack looked over at John, a sad look on his face. “Are you sure?” Now it was John’s turn to snort. He nodded a few times, biting down on his bottom lip in annoyance with himself. Jack Abbot’s voice was soft, quiet. He said each word as if not to scare John off, like a hurt animal. “How do you know?”
John’s fists balled up tightly, knuckles protruding under the skin. “Because I’m a fucking idiot!” John’s voice did get louder than he thought it would be.
“John,” Jack said, “You didn’t cheat, right?”
Jack felt a wave of relief when John shook his head quickly. John could feel his eyes begin to burn as that familiar feeling started to rise within him. One that was so frustrated with himself. One that echoed over and over and over that he was the stupidest man on this planet, worthless of everything, worthless of you. “I told her that I didn’t see– fuck!” The trash in John’s hand found itself dropping to his feet as he used his hands to try and wipe the stray tears that slid down his face. “I fucking told her that I didn’t see myself marrying her.” John sniffled as he wiped a few more tears away. “Do you remember that trip we took to Chicago last month?” John didn’t look over to see if Jack nodded, he knew he did. Jack told him about an underground pizza joint that looked like trash but would be the best Chicago style pizza John and you would ever have. Dr. Robby had disagreed with Jack’s choice, and promptly launched into a lecture about where all the good pizza was for whatever vibe you were looking for.
“We mainly went over there for a wedding – her best friend from college. It was a beautiful wedding. We had an amazing time and it was one of the best weeks of my life.” The tears slowly stopped the more John spoke. “She would make small comments here and there. You know, she liked the cake. It was gigantic, probably about five tiers. But she went on about how she would prefer a simple one tiered cake for the bridal party and such and then have cake for the guests be from, like, sheet cakes or something.”
“She loved the lights that were all over the reception area. Like tiny little fairy lights. They had a photo booth that we used and got fun pictures from. She would say that she liked that idea and would have to keep it in mind. I mean, it was just throughout the night, she would go on about what she liked and what she didn’t like about things. Like she was making a list or something.” John let out a groan and hid his face in his hands. “I’m such a fucking idiot.”
“I didn’t think anything of it at the time. We came back from Chicago and I got back into the groove of work and so did she–” John did prefer his night shifts, but would switch it up every few months so he could have some nights with you. Your job was an office nine to five for an accounting firm. It was good money and you actually loved math and crunching numbers all day. John would tease you for being a bigger nerd than him. “–and one day when I got home from a shift, she was in the living room with a few friends. They were laughing and gossiping and drinking some wine. They had a movie on and some magazines thrown about. I didn’t see what the magazines were for at first but they were excited to see me and stuff. After a refill of their wine and a glass of my own, I grabbed a magazine to thumb through as they talked about some girl drama,” John took in a deep breath through his nose and then blew the hot air out of his mouth. It was cold on the roof, but a light sweater could handle it.
“It was a wedding magazine. I didn’t think anything of it at first, kind of weird but then I put that one down on the coffee table and saw the others. So many and some other regular catalogs. I found out later that they were typically used to find gifts for gift registries.” John said, “I didn’t say anything at the time. I downed the rest of my glass and then excused myself from the girls. I laid on our bed for what felt like hours. I knew none of these friends that were over weren’t in relationships, let alone getting married. The math checked out, you know? She was looking at wedding magazines and catalogs and all this shit because she was expecting me to propose.”
John finally looked over at Jack Abbot. John’s eyes were red from his tears but as Jack looked into them, he saw that John was regretful… disappointed. “We got into bed later that night and I asked her what the occasion was. She didn’t say anything specific, of course. So I bit the bullet and asked her if she was expecting me to propose. She seemed surprised, I think.” John looked away from Jack and towards the moon that was hiding between the clouds of the dark sky. “She was quiet. For a while.” John did another humorless snort. “I think I knew I fucked up with that question. Of course she was expecting me to propose. We were coming up on our four year anniversary at the end of the year. Her brother got married last year, then her college best friend. I think a few people in her office recently got engaged as well. Just a lot of marriages and I guess, she was feeling the heat.”
John winced at his own words. “Not her, me.”
Jack didn’t say anything. He didn’t even give a hum of acknowledgement in between John’s rambling. He didn’t want to shut down John’s process right now. Jack knew it was the first time John was telling someone about the situation. Jack ate his sandwich, slow bite after slow bite.
“She asked me instead if I felt like I was going to propose.” John’s fists started to ball up again. The frustration towards himself boiling up inside of him. “I told her it wasn’t something I’ve been thinking about. She seemed more angry than sad when I said that.” John’s teeth started to grit. “She asked me what she saw for our future and I said I didn’t know. Can you believe that?” He asked Jack indirectly. “I told her I didn’t fucking know. I guess in my stupid mind we were to stay this perfect boyfriend and girlfriend thing. We would live forever in my apartment and just be as is. Which isn’t a bad thing, obviously. But she wanted more. She wanted to be–” John’s voice cracked and his fists unclenched to grab ahold of the railing. “She wanted to be my wife. She wanted to be my fucking wife.”
***
John hadn’t heard anything from the PTMC gossip mill in a few days. Like before, he was sure that Jack wouldn’t say anything after his roof top confessional but there was always that doubt deep inside of him. The cowardly part. The same one that didn’t see how important marriage was – how important being married to him was.
While he still heard the occasional mutterings about people’s theories of his relationship, it wasn’t as bad as before. He found himself becoming more relaxed at work again. He was more talkative, less guarded, and would give out the occasional quip every now and then. John and Parker Ellis would spend a whole shift going back and forth like they usually would and Parker was ecstatic about that! She didn’t let it show on her face or show it out loud in case it would spook John but she was ecstatic.
John hadn’t heard anything from you.
He tried to keep his mind off of it but he found himself checking his email and tapping on the thread to read the message he’s read a thousand times by now and to nitpick his own email back to you. He thought about sending another one. One more clearer, professional. But he felt like if he did open up a fresh email to send, it would end up the same as the other – in a ramble of how sorry he was and how much he missed you.
He had tried to check your social media accounts over the past few weeks. Your Instagram had him blocked. And when he asked Donnie Donahue very discreetly to check your account, he was informed by the nurse that your account had gone private. It didn’t stop the nurse from requesting to follow you. John might have punched Donnie in the shoulder for doing that.
Your Facebook, that you kept mainly to keep in touch with family and some long distance friends, was still up. You hadn’t unfriended or blocked him on that yet (which he was thankful for) but you didn’t use it as much. John took the opportunity to check your mother’s profile. She was a heavy Facebook poster, something all mothers seemed to be, like it was built inside of them. Sometimes he wondered if you were a mom, would you be the same…
When he found the profile, the stress in his shoulders released as he found her still his friend. He wasn’t sure if she would outwardly unfriend him, a part of him wondered if she even knew how. John started to scroll down the feed mindlessly, trying to get anything about you. John knew your mom loved you dearly. She always begged for you to move closer to the Cape but John’s career was going to keep him in Pittsburgh and you had no problem with that.
God, you were always so supportive of him.
Your older brother lived closer to your parents. Him and his newlywed wife bought a home just north of Boston. Your brother worked as an architect in the city and his wife was a pediatric nurse at Mass General. It was something you and your brother laughed about the first Thanksgiving you all spent together a few years ago. You both had a type – medical professionals in tight scrubs.
He remembered a few months before they left for Chicago that your brother and his wife were finally expecting their first child. You were so excited. You were going to be an aunt and John was going to be an uncle! And John couldn’t lie, he was excited to be that. He would get to enjoy the cuteness of a baby without having to deal with the mess. He would get to enjoy the fun of a toddler without having to deal with the mess. He would get to enjoy the adventures of a kid without having to deal with the mess.
On his phone, he came across a picture your mother had uploaded. It was your brother and his expecting wife in their kitchen, hands on the bump of her stomach, smiles on their faces. It was recent, at least within the last week. John didn’t like the photo. He didn’t want to have your mother be notified of his lurking.
Scrolling more, he came across different posts from your mom. She posted a photo of a squirrel that would rob her bird food from the feeder in her garden. It was the fattest squirrel ever to exist. John remembered when you told him that squirrel had been there for years – ever since your junior year of high school. John didn’t believe you but he didn’t know the lifespan of squirrels so he would let it slide without protest.
Your mother posted about a nice dinner she had with your father. A new place had opened up on the Cape and it specialized in – who would have guessed! – seafood. A bit on the pricey side, which John was sure your father probably didn’t appreciate but it was something he always had to be okay with since he was the reason they lived in Cape Cod anyway, and you know you’re going to spend money to be there. Plus they were year rounders, even at their age! While most of their neighbors were seasonal campers from across the country or snowbirds who would fly down to Florida once it got below eighty degrees, your parents were diehard New Englanders. John was sure it was why you hated going any farther than Virginia.
John skimmed and scrolled past more posts that weren’t important to him. God, your mother liked to gab! He was almost too fast for one in particular but quickly backtracked and saw a picture that would make his heart rate thump hard through his chest.
There was a picture. The sun was rising up over the water, peeking up through the clouds. Orange, red, pink across the sky. Truly beautiful. And while he couldn’t see your face, he knew it was you. He knew it was one of the chairs on your parents’ front porch. It was a big porch with lots of outside furniture. There were two big Adirondack chairs where your mom and dad would sit out for a cup of coffee in the morning and a glass of wine in the evening.
Your mom had taken the picture through the screen door that looked out to the porch. You were sitting in the chair, legs up under you, big sweater on. You held a mug to your lips. It was large, almost comically so. John knew you loved to use it for hot cocoa in the winters.
You were looking towards the sun.
John didn’t know why but he felt like it was taken the morning after you left. The morning you sent him the email saying you were safe. John felt a sickness in his stomach. He knew you wouldn’t keep this from your parents. Besides John himself, your family was your rock. You were all so close to each other.
For the caption, your mother simply put: MY GIRL IS HOME
***
So John knew where you were.
You were at your parents’ house.
It made sense but now that he knew for sure, it kept eating away at him. You still hadn’t reached back out to him at all. He checked every free moment he had. He lingered on your mother’s Facebook, seeing if maybe she had put a new update about you. But so far, it was only the one. He would look at it unblinking, until his eyes were burning and he physically couldn’t stop them from blinking.
More days passed, then some more weeks. Eventually, it had been officially three months since you had left John. Each month that went by, he seemed to be more and more of a shell. He knew what to do, what to say, where to go, but there wasn’t a spark anymore. No twinkle in his eyes. Less and less quick banter and funny jokes. John was finally starting to realize that this breakup may truly be the end of the two of you. Sure, he wasn’t expecting a second chance if he had gotten a moment to speak with you since you left but he certainly wanted closure.
Dana would pester him more, looking up at the handsome Asian man from behind her readers, mouth slightly crooked with a pout and eyebrows pressed together. She would give John a pat on the back or a longer hug if he came in looking just a little too sad for her liking. While Dr. Robby tried to keep his nose out of it, he was sure to let John know that he was always available to talk to. John appreciated that. While Jack Abbot was his go-to for advice, he did respect Dr. Robby’s opinions and life experiences.
Mel King had finally been updated on John’s love life. She had heard the news when dropping in on a conversation between Trinity Santos and Dennis Whitaker. She was taken aback by the news, just like everyone else had over the past few months. But Mel felt bad for not acknowledging John’s pain and sadness. When she told John of this, he chuckled. Mel King was now even more confused. “You’ve treated me the same no matter what and I appreciated it.”
“Oh.” Mel gave a small tight lipped smile, nervous but kind of happy. “How have you been, uh, lately?”
“Shitty, to be honest.”
“Oh.” Mel’s face twisted as she took in that information. Mel’s mouth fell open as she was trying to find something to say but thankfully on her part, an ambulance came rushing into the bay and soon enough, doctors and nurses were scrambling around.
John decided to spring into action, and rushed over to the paramedics who were wheeling in a woman on a gurney. She was practically rolling around onto it, uncomfortable from the pain in her body. John noticed the swollenness of her stomach – she was pregnant. “What do you got?” John said.
The woman paramedic was quick in her words, “Thirty five year old woman, was in her hotel room when her water broke. Her husband’s on the way in. Just shy of thirty six weeks.”
“Thirty five weeks and three days– fuck!” The woman groaned through gritted teeth and rolled on the gurney more. The other paramedic on the call held the gurney steady until the woman steadied. John didn’t know when Jack Abbot showed up next to him but Jack got clarification on the woman’s vitals. They weren’t bad but they weren’t great.
It wasn’t until they got the patient over to a room and off of the ambulance gurney until John noticed it was your sister in law. “Jesus– Monica?” She groaned and peeked over at the person calling her name with one eye. Her hands were holding her stomach and she let out a chuckle.
“Oh, this is going to be fun!” Monica had a sheet over her legs, her feet were in stirrups, making it easier for the doctors and nurses to get a better look at her nether regions while they tried to deliver her premature baby. Jack Abbot sat at the end of Monica’s bed and peeked around the sheet to John. Jack hoped this wasn’t some past hookup situation. The last time one of those happened, it ended up with scalpels being thrown and a call to security. It was a few months before John had met you but Jack remembered it clear as day.
Nurse Perlah was on the other side of the gurney, rambling off Monica’s vitals. Blood pressure was high but that was expected with her current condition. Perlah then started on getting vitals of the baby. Monica let out another long groan and then in the next moment, Jack stood at the end of the gurney and locked eyes with Monica.
Jack said her name calmly, “You’re going to have the baby. It’s coming now and we’re going to have to deliver it, okay?”
Monica started to shake her head, “No, no, no, we have to wait for my husband. He’s coming, I promise–” Another contraction broke through her body and her sentence transformed into a scream. “He’s early,” Monica’s hands rubbed at her stomach. Her body felt like it was on fire. “Is he going to be okay?”
“We can’t know that for sure until we get him out.” John piped up. The doctor he knew himself to be broke through and he joined Jack down by her legs. John paused before lifting up the sheet that covered Monica. “Mon, if you are not comfortable with this, please, tell me. I will not be offended.”
Monica let out another groan, but it didn’t seem directed at John. “Yeah, yeah, I don’t care, John, really– ohmygod!”
“Get her situated for pushing. I want her ready for her next contraction!” Jack Abbot said and the room and everyone in it seemed to shift gears.
“John–” He peeked over at Monica at the call of his name. “Have you seen Christopher yet?” John shook his head but it went unnoticed as Monica’s eyes squeezed shut. Jack worked her through her contraction and then when she opened her eyes again, a few tears fell from them. “Please, call him.” John nodded and stepped away from her and over to her purse that was placed to the side by a paramedic. He rummaged through her bag until he found the phone. Monica groaned out the pass code as another contraction started up.
It felt like an out of body experience, really. He found Monica’s contacts and then started to scroll. He didn’t know whether to look for Christopher’s name in them or maybe something stupid like “baby daddy” or “handsome”. Like a reflex, he found a familiar name and pressed the phone to his ear.
While chaos was surrounding John, nurses moved to grab different things, words came out of Jack’s mouth, guiding Monica through childbirth, OB finally made their way downstairs just as the head popped out. Somehow, all the commotion around him came to a halt and all he heard was the trill of the line, once…twice…three times, and then, “Mon? What did you forget?”
John’s mouth was dry. His lungs started to burn, begging for new oxygen to be sucked into them, but he couldn’t. He had frankly forgotten how to breathe.
“Monica?” After the moment of silence on the line, the noise finally started to make its way to you on the other side. “Hey, hey! Monica, are you okay?”
“Uh,” John’s fingers tightened on the phone. He felt faint. “She’s f-fine, the baby’s coming… she’s just looking for Christopher.”
Silence.
John’s heart was in a steady thump. One that could be looked at as him being calm, cool, and collected, but in actuality, he was simply having an out of body experience. He knew once this phone call was over, he would have to go somewhere fast. The break room, a rest room, a closet – somewhere! – so that he didn’t break down in the worst way possible in front of all of his friends and colleagues.
A scream from Monica seemed to break the silence.
“She’s at PTMC?”
“Yes.”
You sighed. Not of relief really, kind of like, annoyance, maybe? “She’s okay?”
“Yes.” John repeated. “The baby’s head is out, maybe another contraction or two and it will be out.”
“I’ll get a hold of Christopher.” You said. Your voice wasn’t angry or sad. It was neutral. “Please take care of her, John.” He heard you take a deep breath. “We’ll be over as quickly as possible.”
Fuck.