The glass in his hand hit the table with a crash. ‘What? So soon? You don’t mess around, do you? You don’t want to talk a bit more? At least listen to someone else’s opinion?’
‘And have you try to convince me against it? I don’t think so. I don’t need your negativity. It’s a chance, Liam. I need to take it.’
For a few seconds he looked at her. Just stared at her. She couldn’t read him. The man she’d thought she knew pretty much inside and out, and she couldn’t even guess what he was thinking.
After a torturous silence that seemed to increase the tension tenfold, he spoke, ‘Yes. Yes, you do. Take the chance, Geo.’ Now he stood up and walked her to the door. Once outside he didn’t wrap her in his usual goofy bear hug. Didn’t graze her cheek with a kiss and a smile. Didn’t give her a wink and make her laugh. ‘Let me know how you get on.’
‘Why? So you can make me doubt myself all over again?’
He took her by the shoulders and his gaze bored into her. ‘Because I’m your friend, Georgie.’
And then she ached for him to give her one of his hugs more than anything else in the world. But he turned away. Back towards the bar and the white noise that seemed to be mingling with his words and filling her head with doubts.
What if he was right? What if this was the far side of crazy? What the hell did she know about family anyway? About parenting? It wasn’t as if she’d had any experience on either side of that particular fence. What if Malcolm didn’t follow through? What if he did?
Worse, what if this rift meant that the friendship she had with Liam would be broken for ever? He was the closest thing she had to any notion of family, and the thought of not having him in her life made her suddenly feel empty and cold.
Torn and confused, she climbed into a waiting cab and watched him retreat to the bar, his dark T-shirt straining across well-defined broad shoulders, and a gait that screamed defiance.
And what the hell was going on with those pecs? The man had suddenly developed muscles of steel. Strange, too, that in the midst of all this turmoil she should even notice. That, and the shape of his lips, the way his mouth curved and softened as he smiled, which had been rare but welcome tonight. Those hormones were clearly playing havoc with her head.
But judging by the sudden strange slick of heat that hit her breasts and abdomen—which surely must be a reaction to the muggy Auckland evening—they were messing with her body too.
Mum’s had a stroke. Had to go back to UK. Don’t know for how long. Will keep you in the loop. Sorry. Can we have that meeting when I get back?
SHUTTING THE IVF clinic room door, so she could have a moment to take it all in, Georgie stared at the text, her gut clenching. Bile rose to the back of her throat. She felt dizzy.
And downright selfish.
Inhaling deeply, she pulled herself together. For goodness’ sake, it wasn’t the end of the world, just the end of an opportunity. That was all. There would be another chance, next month or the month after. Some time. With a different donor.
She should be feeling sorry for her boss, not herself.
No worries, Malcolm. Safe journey. Sending hugs for your mum x
And yet she felt as if her world was closing in on her, that she was fast running out of time and her dream was getting further out of reach. Scrolling through her texts, she found her conversation thread with Liam and started to type. Then stopped. She hadn’t heard a thing from him for four days, and even though she knew he’d be busy, catching up on everything at work, she felt a little lost. Normally he’d text her with funny stories from his shift, jokes, stuff. Just stuff. But ever since Friday she’d been hit by silence. And it hurt a little that he knew what she was going through but didn’t want to see how she was doing.
Okay, it hurt a lot.
So maybe that would be the norm from now on. She didn’t want to think about that. But for the last few days it hadn’t been just his absence that had been on her mind. It had been that crazy tingly feeling that had swept through her body the other night, just looking at him. And then an out-of-proportion feeling of loss that he wasn’t being supportive. It was absurd. Seemed those meds made her overreact in lots of different ways.
The clinic room phone interrupted her thoughts and brought her back to reality. ‘Georgie speaking.’
It was Helen, the receptionist, and Georgie’s good friend. ‘I have a patient here, Kate Holland. Says she doesn’t feel too great. Can you see her straight away?’
‘Kate? Sure, I remember her, she was in just the other day. I’ll be right through.’ Helen rarely showed any kind of emotion, so the anxiety in her voice made Georgie take notice. Putting her own worries aside, she made sure the clinic couch was ready, opened up Kate’s notes on the laptop then collected her patient, who appeared noticeably short of breath, flushed and anxious.
‘Kate. What’s the problem? Are you okay?’
‘No. I feel pretty rubbish, actually. My stomach hurts and I’m so thirsty.’ For a toned and fit marathon runner Kate climbed onto the bed with a lot of effort.
Alarm bells began to ring. Georgie settled the young woman against the pillow, silently counting the laboured respiratory rate. ‘You’ve been having the injections, right? Any other problems? Nausea? Vomiting?’
Kate nodded. ‘Yes. Twice this morning and I feel really sick now. But so thirsty.’
Georgie took her patient’s hand and measured her pulse. Fast and thready. Any number of scenarios raced through her mind. Fertility drugs had a tranche of usually mild and temporary side-effects, but when they were severe they could be life-threatening. ‘Peeing okay? If you can do us a sample, that’d be great.’
‘Not much at all. But I’ll try.’
‘Okay, when you next need to go, yell out.’ Giving Kate a quick examination and piecing together her patient’s history, Georgie reached a preliminary diagnosis. It wasn’t what either she or her patient wanted to hear. ‘How long have you felt like this?’
‘The past couple of days or so. I started feeling really sick yesterday.’ Kate gripped Georgie’s hand, her flushed face tight and scared. ‘But please don’t tell me we have to stop the injections. Please say we can do this. It’s our last chance.’
Georgie gently encouraged her to lie back down, not wanting to upset her even more but realising that time was of the essence. ‘I know, Kate. I know. But don’t get ahead of yourself. I’ll quickly get the doctor to come check you over, he’ll probably suggest you have a short stay in hospital, just a few days or so, to check everything’s okay …’
After the doctor had confirmed Kate’s diagnosis, Georgie arranged the next few steps. ‘Because you’re publicly funded, we’ll transfer you to the General Hospital gynae ward, that’s the closest to your home. They’ll look after you. I promise.’
‘What about the IVF? Will that happen now?’
Georgie took her hand again. ‘Sweetheart, you remember the doctor saying you had something called OHSS? That’s our medical shorthand for ovarian hyperstimulation syndrome. That means your body has reacted very strongly to the drugs. You have too much fluid in your abdomen, which is why you’re out of breath. You’re dehydrated, but we need to watch how much fluid you drink because we don’t want you overloaded. You have a swollen red calf, which might mean you have a blood clot. We’ve arranged for some scans and a few more tests at the hospital. You need to rest and let your body heal before you do any more.’
‘We can’t afford any more. This is it, our last chance. Mark will be so disappointed.