Page 66 of Single Mom's Daddies
“Yes,” he says carefully. “Stable is not strong, though. She’s not currently ranked high on the transplant list. She was. She’s been on and off that list for years. But every setback bumps her down.”
Something hot and wild flares in my chest. Anger so bright that I wish I had my sidearm. “So how do we fix that? How do we get her to the top?”
He’s quiet. “You give her time. Time here.”
“You’re no help.” I look at Saffron. “Tell me what we have to do.”
Her eyes are calm. Sad. “We have to let her stay here.”
Dr. Belleville lifts his hands slightly. “I understand how frustrating this is. I do. But the system isn’t just policy—it’s ethics. It’s medicine. I can’t game it. And even if I could, I wouldn’t.”
I take a step forward before I even realize I’ve moved. Roman’s hand lands lightly on my shoulder. I shrug it off. “You can’t just stand there and say there’s nothing we can do.”
“I didn’t say that,” the doctor says.
Victor speaks quietly. “Then what can we do?”
“We wait. We stabilize her. We keep her bloodwork trending in the right direction. If we can prove she’s stronger next week than she was last week, her rank goes up.”
I grit my teeth. It’s not enough. I just found her. I’m not going to lose her because of some goddamn bureaucracy. I take a breath. It doesn’t help.
I feel Saffron’s hand on my arm. “Come with me,” she says.
I don’t resist. I need to move. We walk down the hall, away from the doctor, around the corner into a small waiting alcove with faded chairs and a vending machine that probably hasn’t worked since the Obama administration.
She doesn’t sit. Neither do I.
“You can’t do that,” she says.
I glare at her. “Do what?”
“Go at him like that. Go atthem.”
“They’re going to let herdie.”
“No,” she says firmly. “They’re going to do everything they can to keep her alive. They always have.”
I look away.
She steps closer. “Nikolai. You’ve been here forhours.I’ve been here foryears.Do you understand that? Years of bloodwork and fevers and ICU stays. I’ve fought every fight. I’ve begged every nurse. I’ve learned the hard way that yelling doesn’t help. What helps isshowing up.”
I close my eyes.
“Do you think I haven’t wanted to scream at every single person in this building?” she asks. “Do you think I haven’tthoughtabout burning the whole system down?”
I don’t answer.
“Because I have. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. Because Ivy needs me to be calm. She needs me to be strategic. And now she needs you to be that too.”
Her words hit hard. Because she’s right.
And I hate that she’s right. I let out a breath. It helps and it doesn’t help. Somehow. I try to shake off my anger, but I’ve always been shit at that.
What I can do is apologize. “I’m sorry. You’re right. And I can’t imagine what you’ve been through or how you’ve held it together this long, when I’m popping off in the first few hours…fuck, Saf, you’re stronger than all of us.”
Her voice softens as she smirks a little. “I know.”
I snort a laugh and hug the shit out of this woman. Holding her feels like comfort in human form. Feels right. We stand there for a minute longer. Then she nods back toward the hallway. “Come on. You owe the doctor an apology too.”
