Chapter 2

I put the chart on the table.

Carefully.

I won't give him the satisfaction of seeing my hands shake.

"You remember the specialist."

Matteo looks toward the open door.

"Keep your voice down."

"Two samples. The same result."

"That was seven years ago."

"The doctor asked you to come back."

"And you spent years making it the only thing we talked about."

I stare at him.

Seven years ago, we sat beside each other while a specialist explained the word azoospermia.

No sperm had been found in either sample.

There were possible causes to investigate, further tests, options to discuss.

Matteo heard none of that.

He asked for the reports, put them in an envelope, and refused to make another appointment.

In the car, he said, "Don't tell my mother."

"What do we tell her?"

"That we're trying."

So we tried to live around it.

I found specialists. He canceled appointments.

I asked him to reconsider. He told me to stop.

When Lucia began blaming me, he stayed quiet.

At Christmas, she raised a glass to the next generation and looked straight at my stomach.

"Perhaps next year Vivian will finally have some good news."

Matteo squeezed my knee under the table.

Later, he thanked me for not embarrassing him.

Now he points toward Bianca's room.

"There's your answer. The tests were wrong."

"Then repeat them."

"I'm not doing this because you're angry."

Footsteps sound behind me.

Lucia enters with a cream-colored baby blanket folded over her arm.

She takes in my scrubs, the chart, her son's face.

"Oh, good. They found you."

I turn.

"You knew."

"Of course I knew."

"How long?"

"Long enough to know this child matters more than your feelings."

Matteo moves to close the door.

Lucia doesn't lower her voice.

"For seven years, I've watched my son wait. Do you think a family like ours can wait forever?"

"He wasn't waiting. He was sleeping with someone else."

"He was securing a future."

I look at the blanket.

An embroidered M sits in one corner.

"You've already put his name on everything."

"He's my grandson."

"You don't know that."

Lucia's face tightens.

"Be very careful."

"Matteo's tests found no sperm. Twice."

She turns to him.

He looks at me.

"You promised."

"Yes. I did."

"How dare you," Lucia says.

I can't tell which of us she means.

Then she steps closer to me.

"You're a doctor. You should be ashamed of using private matters to hurt your husband."

"You've called me barren in front of your friends for years."

"And you let me."

"Because he asked me to."

Matteo cuts in.

"Enough."

We both look at him.

"Bianca is pregnant. We can argue about an old report all night. It won't change that."

He picks up her chart.

"Tell me what you need."

"For you to stop treating this pregnancy as proof."

"For the surgery, Vivian."

I take the chart from him.

"I need to speak to Helen."

In her office, I tell her who Bianca's partner is.

Helen listens without interrupting.

"Can another surgeon take over?" I ask.

"We're bringing someone in. The earliest she can arrive is morning."

"And until then?"

"You're the specialist on site. Can you stay available?"

"Yes. But document the conflict and the handover plan."

"Of course."

When I step back into the corridor, Matteo is waiting.

"Are you leaving?"

"I'm arranging her care."

He reaches for my arm.

My pager sounds before he touches me.

Helen's office phone rings at the same time.

A nurse hurries toward us.

"Dr. Hale. Heavy bleeding. Her pressure's falling. We're moving her now."

I head for the operating suite.

Matteo follows.

"Vivian."

I keep walking.

"Remember whose child that is."

I stop just long enough to face him.

"She's my patient."