I wake up with Emily pressed against my body and smile against the softness of her neck. “Good morning,” I whisper, trying to force myself up.

She rolls over and wraps her leg around mine. “Can we just call in sick today?”

I brush my thumb across her cheek. “You already know the answer to that.”

“I know,” she whispers and stretches.

Allowing her to sleep a little longer, I get up and jump in the shower. By the time I’m out, I find Emily in the kitchen all dressed and ready to go. “I wish I didn’t give up coffee.”

“The doctor said you could have one cup,” I remind her, but she was persistent on completely giving it up for the baby.

“But we both know the risks. Plus, one cup is a tease when you’re used to having three or four through the day.” She pours coffee up to the top of the travel mug, takes a big sniff, then hands it over to me.

I lean over and place a kiss on her lips. “And this is why I love you.”

“Because I know statistics?” She laughs.

“Exactly.”

We head to the truck, and I look over at her and smile. I love our morning routine and spending as much time with her as possible. Being able to see Emily at the hospital and having lunch together is one of the highlights of my entire day.

By the time we make it to the hospital, the sun peeks over the horizon. After I park, we grab our bags with our scrubs from the back seat and head inside.

“What?” she asks, looking over at me as she changes clothes.

“Nothing, Dr. Bell. Nothing at all.” I wink, and we make our way to the nurses’ station, grab our pagers, and check in with the nurses.

Dr. Umbridge informs us an ambulance is in en route, and that Fiona will fill us in on the details. The rest of the staff already have patients so Emily or I will be on this one. “Twenty-eight-year-old female. Seven months pregnant. Experiencing migraines and nausea. Severely dehydrated. Passed out at work and her co-workers called it in. ETA is three minutes.”

“Sounds good,” Emily says. “I can take her.”

I glance over at her, then to Fiona. “I’ll be helping Dr. Bell on this one. Page me if I’m needed.” She gives me a quick head nod before picking up the phone.

Emily and I walk away from the nurses’ station, and she turns and speaks in a hushed voice. “You know I can handle this myself.”

I place my hand on her shoulder and can feel the tension in her body. “I know you’re more than capable. One of the best in the hospital.” I wink to ease her of my overprotectiveness.

Before she can respond, the hustle and bustle of the paramedics wheeling in the patient interrupt us. Emily goes to the stretcher, and I follow behind her.

“Patient’s name is Bailey Kensington. She’s seven months pregnant. Fetal heart rate is strong,” the medic informs us.

“Okay, take her to trauma room two please,” Emily orders. I love watching her take charge, especially on days she wears her sexy, black-rimmed glasses. It’s honestly the last thing I should be thinking about right now, but ever since her sex drive has tripled, it’s always on my mind. I’m ready any time she decides to push me into one of the on-call rooms and demand I take off my pants. Working with my girlfriend definitely has its perks.

Once Bailey is transferred to a bed, we hook her up and check all her vitals. An electric fetal monitor is hooked up as well so we can keep an eye on the baby. Claire comes in to help since she just finished with a patient and sets her up with fluids right away.

Bailey looks up at the three of us, and the discomfort is written all over her face. Emily asks more questions about her medical history and the location of the pain. Not wanting to overstep my bounds with her patient, I stand and monitor the machines. Bailey winces when Emily asks her to lean forward so she can listen to her lungs. She tells her to take some deep breaths, but she can barely hold herself up before she gets a dizzy spell.

“How long have you experienced these headaches?” Emily asks.

“For a few months, but the vision issues started a few weeks ago,” Bailey finally admits.

“Okay, I’m going to check your vision, since your pain is pinpoint,” Emily explains before placing her finger behind her ear. “Tell me when you can first see my finger.” Emily begins moving her fingers forward, and she doesn’t speak until her finger is nearly in front of her face, which worries me, and when Emily glances back at me, I see the concern on her face too.

“And how long has the nausea lasted? Since the beginning of the pregnancy?” I ask, taking a step closer.

She shakes her head. “It started the past few weeks. I’ve noticed I’ve been slightly losing my balance as well, but I think it’s because my headaches are so painful I can hardly bear it.”

“We need to order an MRI immediately.” I look at Emily, and she nods her head.

“What about the baby? Is that safe for the baby?”

Emily grabs Bailey’s hand and squeezes it, giving her as much comfort as she can offer. “We’re going to do everything we can. The MRI is perfectly safe for the baby since we’re getting a scan of your head. This test will help us determine if there’s something more serious going on. You’re in the best hands in San Angelo, and as soon as we find out more information, you’ll be the first to know.”

Bailey releases a small smile, then leans back and closes her eyes. There’s not much more we can do for her other than give her some Tylenol, but if it’s more than just a headache, it won’t help much until we can confirm her diagnosis.

As I walk out of the room, Emily continues giving orders, then follows me.

“It could be preeclampsia combined with dehydration, but her blood pressure is normal,” Emily mutters, writing in her chart. I can tell her wheels are turning as she tries to pinpoint Bailey’s diagnosis.

“Once we get the MRI scans back, we’ll know more of what’s going on. The way her vision is combined with her other symptoms, I’m worried it’s something much worse than that,” I tell her, but she already knows that.

When our eyes meet, she lets out a long breath. “I hope not, especially for the baby’s sake.”

I squeeze her shoulder. “I know.”

“I told her we’d more than likely keep her overnight to watch her vitals. She’s in line to get the testing done now.”

“Good,” I say just as Fiona pulls me away. “Dr. Umbridge needs your help in trauma room one.”

I glance back at Emily, not really wanting to leave her, and she gives me a reassuring smile that she’ll be fine, but I know her patient’s symptoms are heavy on her mind. I smile back before jogging to the trauma room that’s in complete chaos and see that blood is everywhere.

“Dr. Bishop. You’re here. We need to do damage control and start surgery to stop the bleeding,” he says, nonchalantly as if he’s having a normal conversation over a cup of coffee as a man lies awake on his side with a knife protruding from his body. Dr. Vance, the trauma surgeon, is standing in the back of the room, scrubbing in.

One of the nurses who usually shadows Dr. Umbridge gives me the rundown as I scrub my hands and snap on my gloves. “Stab wound. The X-ray showed the blade barely missed his major organs.”

The man screams out in pain. Flashes of my own stabbing incident surface, but I push the thoughts away. Thank God I barely remember any of it.

“Can we get him something?” I ask.

“Already been given a full dose of morphine and started antibiotics to kill any potential infection. Allergic to regular anesthesia and both ORs are full. He tried pulling the knife out himself and is now bleeding into his abdomen. So if we’re going to stop the bleed, we need to get this knife out now,” Dr. Umbridge explains, then looks at me.

“How the hell did this even happen?” I look at the man.

“My wife caught me cheatin’. Told me she’d make sure I’d never do it again.” He groans behind the oxygen mask. Luckily, he’s drugged, so he’ll only feel mild pain, but it could’ve definitely been worse.

“She would’ve killed you if she stabbed closer to here,” I tell him. “That’s your abdominal aorta.”

I put my hand around the hilt, making sure Dr. Vance and Dr. Umbridge are ready. “Be prepared to feel some pressure. As soon as the knife is out, the surgeon will locate the bleed and stitch you up,” I explain, hoping to ease his nerves. We don’t have much time, so it’s now or never. “On the count of three.”

I count down and pull the knife from his side. Blood surfaces and Dr. Umbridge rushes in to assist as Dr. Vance begins cleaning the wound. The nurse keeps an eye on his stats as she hands over the tools

Dr. Vance gives me a head nod and a small smile, then goes back to his patient. I remove my gloves, throw them in the medical waste bin, and move to the sink to wash any blood from my arms. I stand by as they continue working, fast and efficiently. The wound is cleaned, and they give the patient another dose of pain medication to help knock him out. Once the bleed is controlled and the wound is thoroughly cleaned, Dr. Vance stitches him up.

Another successful trauma on the books.

When I walk out of the room, I see Emily walking toward me with a file in her hand.

“The results are in,” she says, pulling me back into the testing room where I can look at the computer generated images on a screen. “It doesn’t look good,” she mumbles when we walk in.

As soon as I see the results on the large screen, my mouth slightly falls open. “It looks like she might have a brain tumor. Look at the cloudiness in the image here. That’s what’s causing her vision loss, affecting her motor skills, and the migraines. We’re going to have to call in a neurologist to confirm, but I’m quite certain that’s what this is. Brain surgery might be an option, but considering the size and her being pregnant, I don’t know. Do you know who’s on duty today?”

“Dr. Patil. I already paged him, and he’s on the way here now,” Emily tells me.

I grab her hand and squeeze it, then place a kiss on her forehead. “We’re going to do everything we possibly can.”

Moments later, Dr. Patil enters and confirms what we thought.

“I’d like a CT Scan,” he says. “Get a better look.”

“She’s pregnant. CT is out of the question,” Emily tells him.

“Considering she’s pregnant, that doesn’t leave us many options until after she has the baby.”

“That’s if she makes it that long,” I add. The tumor is large and could rupture at any moment.

Dr. Patil nods in agreement. “Surgery could be an option but would be too risky for the baby, and if I’m being honest, by the size and location of the mass, it seems too advanced at this point. The surgery would even be a success for only a small percentage,” he states, and I know he means success as in she doesn’t die during surgery. “She’d need to do chemo if we can’t remove the mass completely, which comes with its own risks.”

“So what are her options right now?” Emily asks.

“Well, if she doesn’t want surgery, she can try chemo and see if that shrinks the tumor first. However, it’ll affect the pregnancy more than likely, and considering she’s already in her third trimester, it wouldn’t be a good outcome. If she chooses to move forward with surgery right away, it would need to happen immediately before the tumor gets any bigger,” he continues.

“What if she wants to wait to have the surgery until after the baby is born?” Emily asks.

“How long have her symptoms been prevalent?” he asks.

“She said the past few months it’s gotten worse.”

“Considering the severity of her symptoms, the tumor is aggressive in its growth. I’m not sure she could wait another two or three months honestly. The tumor could double in size, could burst, could make her completely blind.” He stares at the scans, frowning. “Either way, this isn’t going to be an easy decision for the mother-to-be.”

I thank him for his consultation, and he tells us to let him know what she decides. Surgery could save her life but kill her baby. Even then, there’d be no guarantee the surgery would be a success. She’d have to do chemo on top of all that and still… there’s no guarantee any of that would work.

Emily is emotionless as she looks at Dr. Patil. He gives a soft smile before exiting the room.

“This is one part of my job that I hate,” she mumbles.

“I can deliver the news, if you want,” I tell her.

“I need to do this,” Emily says, taking a deep breath, grabbing the X-rays from the screen, then exiting the room. I follow behind her. For a minute, Emily stands outside of the door, knowing the news she’s about to give is life changing.

Emily knocks, then opens the door and sees Bailey sleeping. She steps in quietly, hoping not to startle her.

“Hey, Dr. Bell,” Bailey says with a faint smile. We gave her some medicine to keep her comfortable while we waited for the results.

Emily plasters on a smile, pulls up a chair, and sits next to Bailey. I stand back as she delivers the news, and it guts me.

“But my baby girl is okay right now?” she asks.

“Yes, all her stats are within normal ranges. Her heart rate is strong and healthy, and the ultrasound showed no issues,” Emily confirms.

“So what if I wait until after she’s born?”

Emily lowers her head before looking her in the eyes. “It might be inoperable at that point. Your only option would be chemo or radiation, but it wouldn’t be a guarantee. It might shrink the tumor enough for you to get surgery then, but at this rate, it’s very aggressive and unpredictable.”

“And what if I get chemo or radiation now instead of the surgery?”

“It would most likely abort the baby,” Emily explains, and I can tell it takes a toll on both of them when the room grows eerily silent. “Surgery would be a risk for both of you, but the chemo would definitely put the baby at risk.”

“Your best option right now is surgery and depending on the results, chemo or radiation after that. That would give you the best options for long-term survival.” Emily lays it all out there for her, though I know it’s hard for her to even say.

Bailey shakes her head. “Surgery and chemo are not an option for me then. Even if I did go through with it, I’d lose my baby and then could still end up dying, so I’d lose either way.”

“I understand, Bailey, I do. Is there any family you want to discuss this with first?”

Her eyes widen as the blood drains from her face. “No. I don’t get along with my parents, and I’m an only child. It’s just me.”

“Okay, and what about the baby’s father?”

She looks down and folds her hands over her belly. “He doesn’t know.” She shrugs. “I planned on raising her by myself.”

Emily’s breathing picks up, and I can tell she’s struggling to come to terms with what her patient is deciding.

“I want to have this baby and enjoy her for the few months I have left,” Bailey says, choking up and trying to be strong.

Emily stays quiet.

I want to ask questions—ones I can’t ask as a doctor—but questions that concern me for her baby. If she has no family and the father doesn’t even know, where will the baby go when she inevitably dies?

“Her life is more important than mine at this point,” Bailey says, holding her stomach, tears flooding down her face. “She deserves a chance to have a life. It’s the least I can give her.”

“Bailey, we can find you a top-rated specialist in Houston who can give you the best outcome possible. You don’t have to make a final decision today,” Emily reminds her, and I know whatever option Bailey chooses will be heartbreaking either way.

Bailey shakes her head. “How long do I have if I don’t do anything?”

Emily swallows hard, and the air in the room stills. “Four months. Maybe six at the most.” Bailey’s tears fall down her cheeks harder. “But your symptoms will get worse. Your migraines and vision will worsen by the day. You need to be extremely careful.”

Covering her face with her hands, Bailey lets out a sob. “Enough time to deliver my baby, then plan my own funeral.”

“We have great social workers who can help if you need it,” Emily tells her.

Bailey looks up, her eyes red and blotchy. “No, thank you. I’ll figure it out.”

“I’m so sorry.” Emily stands and places her hand on her shoulder. “I want you to come back if the pain becomes unbearable, okay?” Bailey nods. “I’ll send the nurse in to give you the final discharge papers.”

We walk out of the room, and a few tears well in her eyes before dropping. I take her hand and lead her to the locker room. Once inside, I pull her into my arms and hold her.

“She’s giving her life to save her child,” Emily says against my chest. “It’s not fair. She shouldn’t be doing this alone. She shouldn’t have to choose. She’s too young.”

“I know, baby. It’s the epitome of a mother’s love.” I place a kiss on her forehead, then on her lips. “Why don’t you take a short break, and I’ll go handle the ER.”

She nods as my pager goes off, and I leave her to her thoughts. The rest of the day is busy between patients coming in and checking on those who are currently admitted, and I barely see Emily in passing. We have a quick lunch together in the cafeteria, and I can tell she’s exhausted, which is what I’ve been worrying about now that she’s getting further along in her pregnancy.

“My dad called,” she says between bites.

“Yeah?” She doesn’t bring up her parents often but has been more lately since the news of the baby and after the incident with Richard. They’ve always had a close relationship, but he’s mentioned to her several times that they’re all excited for their first grandchild.

“He wants me to come visit and have a family dinner. He told my mother he’d actually take a few days off and asked if I’d come down. He’s trying to get my brother and sister to come too.”

“You should go then. Be with your family. Pretty soon, you won’t be able to fly and riding in a car for five to six hours won’t be that comfortable.”

Emily looks at me and smiles. “Will you come with me?”

I look up at her and grin. “Of course, sweetheart. If you want me to. It’s been a while since I’ve been to Houston, and the last time was for nothing but business. I’ll check the schedule and request time off.” I wink at her.

“Have I told you that I love you today?” she asks, smiling.

“Hmm.” I rub the short stubble on my chin and playfully shake my head.

“I love you,” she tells me without missing a beat. “I love you so much.”

“I love you, too, baby.”