Chapter 028

~Michelle~

"I... oh my God, he's so cute," the woman sobbed, clamping her hands over her mouth as the nurses cleaned the crying baby.

Peeling off my nose mask, I drew a deep breath. *Finally*. That was a tough one, but we did it.

I had been called late last night when the woman—Georgia, I later learned—was rushed in while in labor. There were no doctors available, only nurses doing their best to help her deliver.

When it became clear that a natural delivery wasn’t possible, they called me. I immediately ordered a cesarean section due to placenta previa because delaying could have led to a more fatal consequence.

The operation had taken all night, and I was utterly exhausted.

"That's for sure—he is," I said, removing my gloves and dropping them onto the tray the nurse held out.

I was relieved the mother and baby were safe. Theresa bundled the baby and handed him to his mother, who clutched him to her chest, tears streaming down her face.

"I'll be right back," I said to Theresa, who nodded, her eyes lingering on my face. I walked out of the operating theater and into the hallway, where Georgia’s husband was pacing.

His eyes widened when he saw me, and he rushed forward.

"Please, tell me my wife is okay," he asked urgently.

I nodded, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "Congratulations, Mr. Silva. You have a healthy son, and your wife is fine. She just needs a few minutes while the nurses clean her up."

His shoulders sagged with relief as he clasped his hands together. His eyes glistened with tears before he pulled me into a hug.

"Thank you. Thank you so much," he said.

I gave him a small smile, genuinely happy for them. As he returned to pacing, I made my way to the supply room. I needed a hot bath and a good rest—I was beyond drained.

After changing into my regular clothes, I went back to check on Georgia. She was already fast asleep, and her husband was gazing lovingly at their baby in the crib.

Her vitals and everything else were stable. My job here was done.

"Call me if anything changes," I said to Theresa as we exited the room. She nodded, clutching the stethoscope to her chest.

"I'm heading home," I muttered.

She hesitated, her lips parting as though to say something. I paused, watching as a faint blush crept onto her cheeks.

"Oh, I was wondering if you'd like to grab coffee later," she said, her voice shy.

I raised a brow just as a nurse passed by, shooting a glare at Theresa before smiling warmly at me. Running a hand through my hair, I sighed inwardly.

And that reminded me—I owed Mrs. Anderson an apology. I'd completely forgotten about her daughter's birthday party. Not that I’d promised to go, but a heads-up would have been polite.

"Some other time, Theresa," I replied.

Her expression fell, disappointment flashing across her face before she quickly masked it. She stepped closer and lightly ran her hand down my arm.

I frowned, stepping back.

Her cheeks turned crimson as she cleared her throat, barely meeting my gaze. "I'll see you later, then," she muttered.

I nodded and turned away. I knew Theresa was interested in me, but she'd always kept it subtle—until now.

Her touching me? That was... I didn’t know what to make of it.

I arrived home about thirty minutes later. As expected, Michelle wasn’t home—she never was this early in the morning.

The fruity scent lingering in my living room hit me as I stepped inside and shut the door.

It was proof she'd been here yesterday—and burned herself again.

Note to self: check on her after I’ve gotten some rest.

Kicking off my shoes, I made my way to my bathroom and taking a quick shower before I collapsed onto the soft, fluffy bed, not bothering to get clothes on except for the briefs I wore.

Home sweet home.

\---

Raised voices startled me awake. Blinking groggily, I sat up and checked the clock—it was already late evening.

As I focused, I recognized one of the voices—a male, sharp and angry. But the other was all too familiar.

"Let go of me, Jake. You're hurting me," the female voice pleaded.

I shot out of bed and strode toward the sound, my heart pounding.

The closer I got, the clearer the argument became.

Pulling the door open, I froze. A blonde man had Michelle backed against the wall, his hand gripping her neck.

Her frantic eyes darted around before locking onto mine for a brief moment. In that fleeting glance, I saw her fear and desperation.

Rage surged through me, blinding an

d hot.

I knew, without question, that whatever I was about to do—I wouldn’t regret it.