by Aiden Bates
Maybe it was for the best. Finn had never been very good at being a lover. He was good at making money, and he liked making money. He should let himself focus on that, and not get distracted by thoughts of family and love. That focus had stood him in good stead so far. Messing with a good thing had brought him nothing but grief and pain.
Chapter Eleven
Carter understood why he'd been ordered to stay away from work for a full week. He'd have given the same order, if he'd been the doctor involved. Maybe someone who had a desk job could return to work right away, or at least someone who wasn't cutting people open, but Carter's job was physically demanding and he'd lost enough blood that he needed to stay off of his feet for a while.
He could accept that, on a purely intellectual level. What he couldn't accept, on an intellectual or an instinctive level, was the boredom or isolation. He'd spent the past twenty years working toward one goal every minute of every day. Even during his down time, when he spent time with a lover or a partner, he'd been thinking about work. He'd been thinking about how to get back to studying, or how to improve his test scores. He'd been thinking about how to improve one patient's comfort, or how to keep another patient from giving birth too early.
Now, he didn't have any of that. It was only for a week, and if he were being honest he felt terrible. His body had been through a terrible trauma, and he knew it. He'd lost a lot more blood than was normal for someone in their sixth week of pregnancy, and he had no idea why that should be the case but it had been. He had hormones coursing through his system that he couldn't quite process yet, and there was no one to help him through that.
There should have been. As the days progressed, it was hard for Carter not to feel bitter about that. Finn blamed Carter for the miscarriage, and he hadn't been shy about letting him know about it either. Carter knew that his postpartum hormones had something to do with his own overwhelmingly hostile reaction to Finn's blame, but they weren't the only reason. Common sense had a lot to do with his outrage too.
It wasn't unusual for the non-pregnant partner to blame the pregnant partner for a miscarriage, at least on some level. Carter had seen it a thousand times before. That partner usually had an open mind when it came to science. He was usually willing to listen to the facts when a doctor sat down and explained how miscarriage worked, especially when he had no experience with pregnancy to go by.
Finn couldn't do that. Finn always had to be right, even when he was so wrong that he made Stone Age medicine look like state of the art. Finn was determined that the miscarriage had to be Carter's fault, and no amount of logic would convince him that these things just happened sometimes. Carter couldn't be an educated scientist and professional who was capable of making rational and informed decisions. No, he'd clearly gone and done a bunch of reckless and foolish things, endangered his own life and killed their baby, because the alternative would mean that Finn would have to accept that there were some things outside of his control.
Carter was better off without him.
He didn't feel better off without him. He thought it was funny that he missed Finn, since they'd never really been "together" in the first place. He told himself that it was hormones. He told himself that it was grief. He told himself that it was the same self-loathing crap that kept him hanging around Tom and Paul like a lonely ghost, and he knew he was probably right about that.
Whatever the reason, he craved Finn's strong arms around him more than he had before he lost their baby. His bed was lonelier than ever, and he found it easier to just sleep on the couch. His house seemed cavernous and empty, which of course it was. Every once in a while Allen stopped by, or one or two of the other doctors. They didn't want him to starve to death after all, but they understood his shame and his need for privacy too.
Carter decided, on the second day, that he wasn't going to sit around and feel sorry for himself. He might still be miserable, and he might still be in pain. He might not be able to take his mind off of things by going back to work, but he could always do some things from the privacy of his home. He had a shady gazebo out behind the house. He could put his feet up out there, enjoy the summer warmth, and put his brain to use.
He wrote first drafts of four articles while he was home on short-term disability leave. He had the research and references available to him on his laptop, after all. He'd had the ideas kicking around in his head for a little while, and he had journals in mind that would publish him in a heartbeat. He just needed the time to sit down and write the damn things, and he had that now.
He churned out article after article, typing until his fingers cramped. He wrote about the effect of the opioid epidemic on pregnancy outcomes, and whether or not there was a difference in outcomes between rural families affected by the crisis and urban families thus impacted. He wrote about the increased rate of C-sections across socioeconomic and ethnic lines, and about implications for healthcare costs going forward. He did have to cheat a little and call Marcia, Finn's assistant, to get those figures, but she was more than happy to get him the details he needed.
He wrote about nurse practitioners and midwives, and their utility not only in keeping healthcare costs down but in providing an improved level of care for patients. He couldn't say enough good words about the midwives at the hospital and the amount of comfort they'd provided for their patients, even those who had scheduled C-sections.
And he wrote an article about managing risks and outcomes in high-risk births. That article took the longest, because it included the most anecdotes.
Allen came over on the second Monday after his miscarriage, with a black leather bag. "I do make house calls, buddy," he said with a wink. "Let's get the unpleasantness over with so we can clear you to come back to work where you belong. The office isn't right without you."
Carter chuckled. "I'm not right without the office." He disrobed, putting aside his own sense of humiliation, and laid down some towels on a bed in the guest room. No sense in bleeding all over the sheets and all.
Allen put on some gloves and looked him over. Carter stared at the ceiling while his friend did his job. "Well, it looks like you're healing up well. Any soreness or pain?"
"It aches." Carter didn't mince his words. "I don't want to imagine how much it would hurt someone who had to pass a full-sized baby. I mean, I know it's supposed to hurt, but I didn't have the practical experience." He grimaced and tried to focus on the ceiling again. "I guess I should look at this as giving me more empathy for my patients or something."
Allen pulled back and took off his gloves. "You don't need to worry about developing more empathy for the patients, bro. You're already the single most empathetic doctor I've met. How are you feeling?"
Carter took a deep breath and looked for the words. He sat up and groped for his clothes. "I'm here," he said. "It's hard. I knew it would end this way, so I'm trying not to be bitter, but I'm also kind of… I mean, I was starting to look forward to it. And the hormones aren't helping."
"No. They wouldn't." Allen shook his head. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry. I really am."
Carter looked down and tugged his underwear on. He would need to go and change the sanitary napkin he had to use to catch the blood he still had from the loss. He knew that they were necessary, for men, until the birth canal closed up again, but he hadn't thought much about it until he had to experience it for himself. "Thanks. Me too."
"Have you told the father?" Allen looked over at him and bit his lip.
"Yeah." Carter let out a bitter little laugh. "I mean, we were never together, you know? Not really. It was a one-time thing to blow off steam, and the condom must have broken. You know how it goes. But I'd have expected a little more compassion that to sit there, less than twenty-four hours after it happened, and try to convince me that it was my fault."
Allen's jaw dropped. "You're joking."
"Wish I was." Carter pulled his shirt over his head. "I mean, this guy…" He paused and ran a hand through his hair, trying to collect himsel
f before he gave away too much. "He was the one who was more excited about the baby, you know? But maybe that's why he's such an asshole now. He's grieving too."
"His grief doesn't outweigh yours." Allen set his jaw. "You need support and help through this, not a pile of crap. Has this guy even seen a science book in the past five centuries?" He stepped closer. "Is this guy a vampire? Is that why he doesn't seem to have caught up with the twenty-first century?"
Carter burst out laughing. "No, he's human. He does suck, although not in the fun sexy way." He shook his head. "Come on, let me get you a drink."
They retreated to different bathrooms to wash up, and then Carter poured Allen a glass of the expensive bourbon that Finn had brought him. Finn hadn't taken it with him, despite Carter's demand, and Carter found he was okay with that now. "I tried to explain to him how the whole thing worked, and he wouldn't listen. He just came back to the same BS over and over, so I wound up kicking him out of the house. I told him not to darken my door again. I think he'll listen." Carter grimaced at the smooth burn of the whiskey on his throat. "I hope he listens."
"I mean, obviously there was some kind of connection, but you don't need that kind of crap in your life. I'm sorry for your loss, Carter, I truly am, but I am not sorry that you're spared having to raise a kid with a man like that. Whoever he was." Allen waved one hand in a sweeping gesture and lifted his glass to his lips with the other.
"Yeah." Carter shifted uncomfortably. "You're right, I know you're right. I just need to get these damn hormones out of my system before I'll completely feel that way myself."
"Of course." Allen's wide, wet eyes reflected the lamps. "That's natural." He looked away and then said, with false cheerfulness, "So you're physically cleared to come back to work. Do you feel up to it? I'll sign off on you staying out for another week if you want, and Finn Riley can go directly to Hell if he complains again."
Carter frowned. "Riley complained?" He bit his tongue. He'd almost used Finn's given name, and that would have tipped Allen off. Right now, he didn't think he could stop Allen from getting physical with Finn. He didn't know if he wanted to, either.
"Yeah. He said he'd done some research online and that you might not need to take any time off at all, and if you did you'd only need a day or two." He scoffed. "Because the Internet is a fantastic substitute for actual medical advice from an experienced medical professional."
"The man has a master's degree in healthcare management!" Carter threw his free hand up into the air. "I can't bring myself to believe that a man like that is honestly this incompetent when it comes to healthcare! He can't be! He's worked in healthcare, he's worked in hospitals, how can he have this much contempt for the profession?"
"I don't know." Allen took another sip of his bourbon. "And I don't know what to do about it either. I sent a complaint to the main office in Cleveland, but who knows what they'll do about it. They probably won't do anything. They're a corporate monstrosity that doesn't care about anything but profits."
"Ain't that the truth?" Carter glowered at the window, since Finn wasn't here to take the brunt of his wrath. What had Carter ever seen in the man, anyway?
Allen finished his drink and went home. Carter considered pouring another drink for himself, but instead he put the bottle away. He was going back to work tomorrow. If he let himself drown his sorrows, he'd go in with a hangover, and that was the last thing he wanted. Instead, he sent out queries to the journals he'd had in mind for the four articles he'd written during his down time. Then he went to bed.
The next day, he started to ease himself back into his workouts by sending himself for a short run. It wasn't far, and he had to sit down and fight his own dizziness afterward, but it got his blood pumping again. It was movement. He'd take it.
When he got to work he saw his office had been decorated with balloons. These weren't the pastel balloons that would normally follow a birth. No, these balloons were bright and vibrant, and every color of the rainbow. They'd come from all over the hospital, too—from his close colleagues in Obstetrics, who'd witnessed his shame, to the guys in Emergency, to the staff in Nutrition and the amazing team down in Housekeeping. Even what was left of the billing department sent a contribution.
The team from Internal Audit sent a fruit arrangement, along with a note letting him know that a donation in his name had been made to the United Way of Central New York.
The whole display brought tears to Carter's eyes, and since he had no appointments during the early part of his day he had time to send thank you notes to everyone. He could have wished that they hadn't made a fuss, but he also welcomed the love that they showed him.
Maybe he couldn't have a family, or even a partner who loved and cherished him. He'd learned to live with that a long time ago. This, the bright display, and the little bits of fruit on sticks, and the generous donation to an organization that did so much good in his adopted community, showed him that he still had plenty of value to people. He was worth something to all of these people, if not to the men in what passed for his love life, and he could take a lot of comfort in that fact.
As he sat, typing out his thank you notes at his laptop in his bright and colorful office, a new message popped into his in box. This one came from an old mentor of his, Dr. Sibley. Dr. Sibley had gone on to become the CMO at Lazarus Health in San Antonio, where they were apparently planning a conference about omega health and medicine for the fall. Dr. Sibley wanted to know if Carter would be willing to come out to Texas and be the keynote speaker.
Carter smiled, for the first time since he'd lost the baby. He'd need to get his direct supervisor to approve the trip, but going to a conference like that would absolutely count toward continuing professional education. He could use something to look forward to as well. He forwarded the message to his supervisor and headed to his next meeting.
***
Finn expected that he'd hear from Carter before Carter came back to work. He wasn't sure why he had that expectation. Maybe it was because he was the CEO of the hospital, and he just expected that he'd be kept abreast of his employees' significant comings and goings. Maybe it was because Carter had been pregnant with his baby, and Finn thought that gave him some kind of connection to the omega.
When Carter did come back to work, though, Finn didn't hear about it for another two days. And he didn't hear about it from Carter, he heard about it from the auditors. "I think that it's just fantastic that Dr. Idoni's office looks so festive," Freeman said to Wyszniewski, just as Finn walked up to their office. "I mean, the poor guy was out for so long, and for such a reason."
"Right?" Wyszniewski shook her head. Finn paused just outside the doorway and listened. "Apparently he's pretty well known in his field. I called my gynecologist to reschedule, and she called me back. I told her I was in Syracuse and she asked if I was at the same hospital as Dr. Idoni and if I could get him to call her about a patient of hers."
Freeman gasped. "Wow. He's such a down to earth guy, you wouldn't think he'd be someone famous or anything like that. Did you ask him?"
"You bet. I stopped in there yesterday and I got a text from my doctor today. She heard from him yesterday evening and he helped her work through what was going on with her patient. What a great guy, you know? He's probably still sore and hurting from what happened, but he took the time to call her back and be helpful."
Well, that was just like Carter, all right. Finn walked back to his office without knocking. He didn't want to let the auditors know he'd been eavesdropping.
He'd thought that maybe he and Carter could work out their differences. He'd had his crying jag in the car, for which he hated himself. He'd resolved to never do that again, and he'd renewed his own commitment to business and profit. He didn't see why that meant that he and Carter had to be hostile. The baby had been conceived in an attempt to bridge the gap between them and end the hostility, for crying out loud.
Why couldn't they go back to a state of non-hostility?
Of cours
e, ignoring one another could be interpreted as non-hostility. It only felt hostile now because Finn had let himself want more. Then Carter had gone and let himself miscarry and refused to take responsibility for it. Then they'd fought, and now everything was broken.
Maybe Finn had hoped that Carter would get those hormones out of his system. Maybe he hoped that they could at least be friends. He'd definitely hoped that they could renew their friends-with-benefits arrangement. Carter clearly had no intention of letting that happen, not if he couldn't be bothered to let Finn know that he was back at work.
Finn grabbed onto his desk as a wave of grief threatened to overwhelm him. He'd been so close. He'd tried to find a way to live with Carter, to raise their child together. He'd buckled down and he'd looked, and he thought that he could see a real future for them together. He'd had to; they had a baby on the way.
Apparently without that incentive, without that baby, there was nothing to hold them together. Finn hadn't realized just how devastating that realization would be until it hit him.
