Luis tore into the ER. "Gwen, Hank, where is she?"
"She's in cubicle three, Luis," Gwen cried softly. "She regained consciousness in the ambulance, but she wasn't that coherent. She just kept mumbling something about your father."
"Oh God." Luis shook his head. "Thank you, both. You're both good friends." Luis rubbed his chin. "If you'll excuse me, though, I need to go see her right now."
"Go, Luis." Hank waved him in. "We'll be right out here, buddy."
Gwen huddled into Hank's arms. "Hank, she's got to be okay."
Eve fingered the edge of her medical diploma and wandered over to her desk. It didn't feel like months since she had been here—she didn't see any evidence of dust.
The hospital had certainly kept its word and held her spot open. Not that she had expected them to. Especially after she requested leave without notice.
But she had to leave. She had no choice—especially after what had happened.
Julian Crane never turned down sex. Hell, he'd been trying to get her back into bed for years.
But he knew that if she slept with him, she'd lose any sliver of a chance that she had of piecing her marriage back together. Of rebuilding her life, of getting her girls back, of recovering the love that she'd lost.
In that moment—as those words came out of his mouth—the truth had crashed down on her like a million bricks: Julian really did love her.
The thought had shaken her to her core, stolen all of the breath from her lungs, upended everything she knew to be true.
She'd had no choice but to run—no choice but to hide away—from anything that reminded her of him.
From anything that dredged up the thought that, right this very second, was stealing the breath from her body: that, deep down—she still loved him, too.
"Yes, thank you for calling." Julian frowned and put down the phone. His father may have vanished off the face of the earth, but he had left at least one important perk behind. Having a loyal informant at Harmony Hospital—Alistair certainly had covered all of his bases. And now it was finally paying off in a useful way.
The ER had told him that his sister had just been rushed in. That she had slipped and hit her head—that she was in and out of consciousness.
He had to go to the hospital and be with her. He wanted to be there for her.
But something was holding his feet back.
Had he made the wrong decision when he turned Eve down?
No, he most definitely had not.
He had already ruined her life in a multitude of ways. He could not—no, would not—do anything to add to that list.
Yet, he couldn't help but wonder what would have happened if he had given into his baser needs and the overwhelming temptation of her request. Would he be with her right now? Might they be spending their days lounging happily in each other's arms?
Might they be happy again?
All he knew was that she had run out the door shortly after he had turned her down—that she had disappeared into the night.
That she hadn't picked up her phone in three long, torturous months.
That the most exquisite pain he had ever felt had regained its grip on his heart.
Luis's heart stopped as he raced into cubicle three and caught sight of a despondent Sheridan curled up on the bed.
"Come on, Mrs. Lopez-Fitzgerald," the ER doctor coaxed. "We need you to roll over onto your back so we can do an ultrasound of the baby."
"Sheridan?" Luis choked out.
"Luis?" Sheridan's eyes fluttered up to his. "What are you doing here?" Sheridan glanced around the room, her brows furrowing with confusion. "What am I doing here?"
"You had an accident, sweetie." Luis knelt down beside her and brushed a few curls from her forehead. "You fell and hit your head." Luis squeezed Sheridan's fingers. "The doctors just want to check you out, okay? Make sure you and the baby are okay."
"The baby . . ." Sheridan rubbed her temples. "Luis, is he all right?"
"He probably is," the doctor explained. "I just need you to roll over, Mrs. Lopez-Fitzgerald, so I can check."
Luis swallowed hard and stroked Sheridan's forehead. "Sheridan, they need to do an ultrasound, all right?"
"An ultrasound? Okay." Sheridan's eyes began to glaze over.
"Sheridan. Sheridan!" Luis's voice filled with panic. "Sheridan, please—you've got to stay with me!"
