Mercy. B.J. Daniels

short and a long time all at once.”

      “It’s not too long, Chloe. You need to focus on yourself for once. If you had a patient who had just gone through the same experience you would counsel her the exact same way.”

      “I agree completely.”

      A new voice came from behind the curtain before it was opened to reveal Ryan Callum.

      “Hi,” Chloe greeted him, embarrassed again at her lack of knowledge about that night, but knowing Ryan had to have been there.

      Kate rose and stared at Ryan, then at her. “I’ll leave you two alone. I’ll be back later this afternoon with your stuff.” Kate gave her one final look and then left, pulling the curtain and the door shut behind her.

      “I didn’t mean to interrupt,” Ryan responded, taking Kate’s now vacated chair.

      “You’re not.”

      “How are you feeling?”

      She could see the clinician in him assessing her and did her best to reassure him.

      “I’m okay, and Kate assures me that every day is going to be a little better.” She was counting on that in more ways than one. “Did you take care of me the other night?”

      “Yes. I don’t think I’ve ever been more scared.”

      “I’m sorry.”

      “Don’t be. I wanted to stop by and make sure you were okay. I also wanted to make sure you knew that no one in the department other than me saw the results of your beta-HCG that night.”

      She felt a flush of embarrassment pass through her, but also a sense of relief at what Ryan was telling her. No one else had seen the positive pregnancy test, which explained why they all believed she had had a ruptured cyst. Having managed to maintain her privacy was a small relief.

      “Thank you,” she said gratefully.

      “Don’t thank me. I don’t want anything standing between you and your future staff position here at Boston General—which, by the way, will be waiting for you whenever you are ready.”

      “Thank you,” she said again, this time struggling to keep tears from her eyes.

      “You’re worth it, Chloe. Please remember that.”

      She could tell he was holding something back, which was far from normal. “Why do I feel like there is something you are not saying?”

      “Because there is. But I don’t think this is the time or any of my business.”

      “Since when did you hold back your praise or your criticism, Ryan?” she goaded him, not wanting anything to change in her life more than it already had.

      “Tate Reed.”

      Her heart stopped and she briefly looked around to ensure Tate, or anyone else for that matter, had not come into her room. What else did Ryan know? What else had happened that night?

      “What about Tate?”

      “I want you to be careful, Chloe.”

      “It’s a little too late for that, don’t you think?” she responded, understanding that somehow Ryan knew about her involvement with Tate.

      “Just be careful. I don’t know Tate well, but I know his type. And if the hospital administration was ever forced to choose between their prized vascular surgeon and you, you wouldn’t win.”

      “Tate would never …” she started, and then stopped herself. She didn’t know what Tate would or wouldn’t do. “Thank you, Ryan—for everything.”