“My options?” I know all too well what he’s talking about. Have I thought about if I want to keep the baby, or if I want to take another route? Have a termination. I’ve thought about both options endlessly, but admitting this to Oliver feels wrong somehow. He sighs, his shoulders dropping. Turning around, he leans back against the desk behind him, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Don’t, Sloane. Just don’t. It’s an insult to my intelligence. Let me help you out with your decision. You know as well as I do that you’re in the peak of your career. Do you think you’re still going to be able to specialize if you’re pregnant? Working the trauma floor is exhausting at the best of times. And once you have the baby, then what? You think you’re gonna be able to run yourself into the ground, working sixteen hour shifts while you have a newborn up in the day care? You’d drive yourself crazy wondering if it was okay. You wouldn’t be able to focus.”
“I wouldn’t bring a baby to work, Oliver.”
“Ha!”
“Why ha?”
“Because that means you honestly think you’d be able to leave your brand new baby at home with its father while you’re out at work all day, and that’s—that’s—”
“That’s what, Oliver?” My skin is prickling all over. I can feel my anger levels rising. I don’t like the tone of his voice, or the look of contempt that’s stamped itself all over him.
Oliver lets out an exasperated breath. “You can’t tell me you think Zeth is stay-at-home dad material, Sloane. He wouldn’t have the first clue how to care for a child. I know I haven’t exactly been the guy’s number one cheerleader since you started seeing him, but this has nothing to do with that. It takes a certain kind of guy to stay home and care for their kid while their girlfriend or wife goes out to work. I know I sure as hell couldn’t do it. What makes you think a man like Zeth could? He’s hardly the kind, caring, compassionate type.”
“Fuck you, Oliver.” I snatch up my jacket, angrily shoving my arms into it and pulling it on. “I didn’t come to you so you could judge, okay? I came to you because you’re my friend, and I thought you’d do your job as a doctor and be impartial.”
“I can’t be fucking impartial, Sloane. Of course I can’t be. I am your friend, and as your friend I’m telling you a hard truth because I think you need to hear it. I think you know all of this already, that having a baby now will kill your career, that Zeth isn’t ever going to win any father of the year awards, and you came to me exactly because you knew I wouldn’t pull any punches.”
“That’s not true.” I can’t come up with anything further to say, because I’m so close to tears my throat is closing up. Also, a part of me knows he’s right. A part of me did want to come here and hear him say all of this to me, so I could nod my head in agreement and resign myself to the fact that having a baby right now is the worst thing I could possibly do.
Oliver’s anger softens as he watches me struggle not to break down into tears. He comes and sits beside me on the gurney, placing his hand lightly on top of mine. “Look. I don’t want to be a jackass, okay. I don’t want you thinking I don’t have your back, because I do. Always. If you want to have this baby, and you want to carry on working, whatever, you know I’ll support you. I’ll do anything and everything I can to make life easy for you. I’ll change diapers. I’ll bottle feed. I’ll be the best honorary uncle this kid has ever had. I even swear I won’t say a word about Zeth ever again. I’ll do all of that for you, Sloane, I promise. If that’s what you want, then you got it. But the thing is…” His eyes are fixed and locked on his shoes. The strip lights overhead reflect in the polished oxblood leather, shining brilliantly. “I don’t think that is what you want, and I think you feel terrible about it. But you have to know that doing what’s right for you is never wrong, okay? It’s sometimes the best thing you can do. Either way, like I said, I’m here. It’s your call. Now all you have to do is make up your mind.”
******
“Zeth?” My voice rings hollow inside the vast, open space of the gym. It’s dark outside, and the dim lights, suspended high above the cast concrete floor, cast just enough light to throw weird, stretched, eerie shadows from the equipment. Zeth’s office door is closed, which generally means he’s out, though the shutters are still up and a radio is playing quietly somewhere, which means someone has to be here. I find Michael in a small weights room off the main area of the gym, sweating profusely as he works out. He smiles when he sees me.
“Come to challenge me to a few rounds in the cage, Dr. Romera?” He winks. “Zeth’s already gone home. I’m assuming you’re looking for him and not me?”
“Yeah, just thought I’d see if he was still here. Never mind. I’ll head back and catch him at home.”
“Is everything okay? You look a little…” Poor Michael. He doesn’t want to be impolite; it’s pretty obvious that I’m under the weather, though.