But she wasn’t going to take Luciana’s only bedroom either, and trying to get checked into a hotel room in Huancayo at 4:00 a.m. didn’t seem too appealing or practical as a third option.
“Thank you so much for the kind offer but Dr. Ferrera and I will figure out the sleeping arrangement here. Don’t worry about us.” Though suddenly she was worrying plenty. “I guess we’ll see you sometime tomorrow?”
“I just need a few hours’ sleep to feel alert enough to care for the bambino. When did you say Dr. Diaz is coming here?”
“I need to double-check to see how long he thinks the travel will take,” Daniel said, his expression now impassive. “I’ll let you know tomorrow.”
“Adios, then. See you about nine o’clock.”
“Give yourself until ten. Still not enough sleep, but we have a pretty big patient load back at Ayllu, and we’re already behind so we’ll all have to work a little tired.”
“Of course. Thank you again. Buenas noches.”
With Luciana gone, the room seemed to shrink to the size of a broom closet, the sound of the baby’s oxygen machine loud and rhythmic. Daniel’s eyes met hers with a magnetic pull so intense she nearly swayed forward.
“We need to get a little sleep while the baby’s sedated,” he said, stuffing his hands in his scrubs pockets. “The monitor will wake us up if something changes in his vital signs.”
“The monitor you yelled at me about.” She wanted to get back to their usual status quo. Sparks flying from arguing instead of sparks caused by something else entirely.
“I never yell. I simply pointed out that we’ve done more surgeries than I can count without one here.” His lips curved in a slow smile that was so not status quo. Darn it. “But since you refuse to let the subject drop, I’ll admit it. I’m glad we have it here, and it’s been useful at the other clinic, too. You were smart to bring it.”
She dramatically slapped her hand to her forehead, partly to hide the surprised little glow his words put in her chest. “I feel a little faint. Did you say I did something right, and that you were wrong?”
“Saying it’s good we have it doesn’t mean I was wrong.”
“Of course not. Because you’re never wrong.”
His smile widened at the sound of disgust that came from her lips with her retort. “Rarely wrong. But there is one thing I was wrong about. You are an excellent anesthesiologist, and more than capable of taking care of the sickest patients during the longest surgeries. I’m impressed you caught the blood loss problem tonight, and instantly took care of it before I had to say something. So I apologize that I told you that I didn’t believe you were competent enough to be a heart surgeon’s anesthesiologist.”
All humor and discomfort and the sarcasm she’d been giving him disappeared. Her mouth dropped open slightly and she held up her hand, catching her breath before she could finally speak. “Wait a minute. So you’re saying that if you had it to do over again, you wouldn’t have kept me from getting the position I wanted in Philadelphia?”
“I did what I thought was right with the information I had at the time, which was that you’d made a critical error in the middle of a serious surgery. Something you can’t deny. So how did that happen?”
She looked down, not wanting to remember. Not wanting him to know any more of the details than he already did. After a long moment she forced herself to look into his eyes, steeling herself for what she’d see there. “You know it was my first month as an attending physician, wanting more than anything to get a permanent position at such an amazing hospital. It does so much good for every class of people, rich or poor, you know? It was my dream to work there. I...I wanted so much to prove myself. To impress everyone.”
She paused, swallowing down the pain of that terrible day. The deep disappointment in herself that she still felt all this time later. The horrifying proof that all the people who’d told her she’d never be good enough to become a doctor had been right.
He must have seen something of what she was feeling as he reached out to soothingly rub one hand up and down her arm as he spoke quietly. “Go on.”
“You might remember that they’d placed an anesthesia resident with me that day, and I felt I needed to give him an opportunity to actually make decisions instead of just watch or follow directions, the same way one or two attendings had done for me.”
“I barely remember the resident. Probably because I was concentrating on the surgery. But it’s also possible that I’d only noticed the beautiful new anesthesiologist who I knew had silky blond hair tucked under her cap, captivating blue eyes, and a body any man could easily get sidetracked by.”
“You noticed me?” she whispered, finding that incomprehensible. The thought made her heart beat hard in her chest. The anger she’d carried at him for all these years had pushed down the attraction she’d felt, too. Had tried to make her forget how often she’d caught herself staring at the tall, dark, cardiac surgeon with the muscular build tugging at his scrubs. Intrigued by the contrast between the all-business and often sharp man performing such detailed surgeries and the gentle doctor who’d appeared before and after when he’d spoken to his small patients and their families.
“Noticed you. Was attracted to you. Wanted to know more about you.” He closed the gap between them and took both her shoulders in his hands. “So you wanted to give the resident a chance to make some decisions. But I know it was you who administered the epinephrine.”
Briefly, she closed her eyes, hating to remember the biggest mistake of her career. A mistake that had nearly resulted in their patient dying. “Yes, it was me. I administered it. The resident gave me the wrong information and drew the wrong dose before handing it to me. I should have been paying closer attention, but stupidly I didn’t double-check. Didn’t see that he had it wrong. Until the child went into cardiac arrest, and through the flurry and panic you saved his life.” Her voice dropped to a whisper. “And in my anger toward myself, which I later projected toward you, I’ve never given you credit for that. So thank you for saving him. I can’t even imagine how it would have felt if you hadn’t.”
“Annabelle.” He squeezed her shoulders. “It was thanks to the whole team that we brought him back.”
Here he was, giving everyone credit when she’d been standing right there to see it had been his command of the situation that had brought the child back. That the way he’d immediately and expertly reacted, barking out orders to everyone, as he’d literally held the child’s heart in his hand and carefully massaged it to get it beating again had been the reason the child had made it. Thinking about her failure to monitor the resident and double-check the dose the way she should have made her feel sick all over again. Made her fall into the deep well of inadequacy she’d felt her whole life. That she’d fought so hard to climb out of to become the best doctor she possibly could be.
“It was my mistake,” she said looking into his eyes, her stomach knotting, knowing she’d see disdain there again. The condemnation she deserved. “My screw-up. The resident was my responsibility as much as the patient was. But I didn’t want anyone to know that, after all my hard work, I still wasn’t good enough. I...I did make myself admit it to the hospital administrators and senior anesthesiologist, hoping to get to stay on. To have one more chance to prove myself. I just never admitted it to you.”
Unexpected and very unwelcome tears stung her eyes, and she tried to swing away, hating to show that kind of weakness. She never cried. Had learned not to cry from the time she’d been little, because it just made people around you impatient or angry, and it never accomplished one thing other than to make your throat hurt and your nose run.
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