Katie Ashley - The Pairing

“I don’t know about that,” he murmured.

“You truly are.” She shook her head. “No wonder women are so crazy about you. It’s one thing for you to be so good-looking and a smart doctor, but then when you add in the fact of how sweet, caring, and compassionate you are, it’s like you’re a triple threat.” She turned to throw the cotton ball into the trash can.

His heartbeat thrummed louder and louder at her words while he sat unblinking and unmoving. Part of him wanted to rail at her for not seeing him like all the other women did. If she truly saw what others did, then she would want to date him, wouldn’t she? Why couldn’t she see how good he could be for her?

When Megan met his tense gaze, she jerked back and momentarily faltered by dropping the piece of gauze in her hand. She quickly deposited the soiled one in the trash and then got another one. “So this Mia chick, she’s run off with some drummer, huh?” she asked, clearly trying to change the subject and lighten the mood in the room.

“Not just any drummer. A famous one at that.”

“Really? What band?”

Pesh’s cocked his head as he tried remembering. “Something train.”

Megan gasped. “Not Runaway Train?”

He snapped his fingers. “That’s it.”

Clapping her hand to her chest, Megan’s eyes widened. “You know someone who knows AJ Resendiz?”

Pesh laughed. “I suppose I do if you consider that’s Mia’s fiancé.”

“That is so wild. I love that band.”

“I’ll see if I can get you an autograph.”

With a squeal, Megan said, “Really? That would be amazing.”

“Anything for the woman who is willing to risk her life for me.”

Megan laughed. “It was nothing.”

“What about your hand?”

“I’m not going to lie. It hurts. I kinda forgot what punching someone felt like.”

Pesh couldn’t help his brows from rising in surprise. “Have you done a lot of fighting?”

She grinned. “Not exactly MMA material, am I?” When he merely shook his head, she replied, “I may have thrown a few punches in my early college partying days when a guy overstepped his bounds.”

With a smile, Pesh said, “Good for you.”

“Yeah, my dad was really big on teaching me self-defense moves. You know, with him being ex-military.”

Pesh couldn’t help liking Megan’s strength and spunk. He hadn’t known a lot of women like her. In his world, women were bred to be demure and obedient. Even though Jade wasn’t Indian, she would’ve never dreamed of throwing a punch to defend him against Dev. But Megan, she was so refreshing with her ability to stand up for herself and others—to voice her mind whether it was good or bad.

“You would have made your father very proud today.”

“Thank you. I’m sure later on today when my knuckles are bruising, he’ll want to know why.”

“I’m very sorry.” He took her hand in his before bringing it to his lips. “Here’s a kiss to make any bruises go away.”

She gave him a teasing smile. “Is that the best medicine you can do, Dr. Nadeen?”

His mind went wild with illicit images of all the “medicine” and “healing” he could give her. A chaste kiss to alleviate her pain was all he could really offer. His pager went off before he could reply. “I better go.” He hopped off the table and started for the door. As his hand hovered over the doorknob, there were so many things he wanted to say to her. But finally, he just said, “Thanks again for taking care of me.”

“You’re welcome.”

“And you should probably ice your hand during your break tonight.”

“Yes sir,” she replied, with a mock salute.

He shook his head at her with a smile before heading out the door.

Days melted into weeks as Megan immersed herself in her clinicals. Every day she found a new challenge to conquer. She hadn’t imagined how hard it would be, or how exhausted she would be most nights when she crawled into bed. But it was a thrilling exhaustion because she was doing what she felt like she was called to do.

Each day, she spent more and more time with Pesh. She loved working beside him on cases. He had the best bedside manner of all the residents and interns. Patients, both young and old, adored him. And the more she was with him, the more Megan began to adore him as well.

She had just left an examining room where he had charmed a little boy into finally letting them run the tests they needed when Kristi beckoned her from down the hall. After hustling to join Kristi, Megan was quickly ushered inside one of the trauma rooms. Immediately, her entire body switched gears as she prepared herself for what she might face.

“Female, thirty, car accident,” the paramedic began before rattling off her vitals and other information. After Megan had absorbed the information, she turned to the patient. “Hi, I’m Megan. I’m going to get your IV started.”

The woman gave Megan a weak smile. “I’m Mary.”

“I guess it would be wrong to say it’s nice to meet you, huh?” Megan said, trying to talk as normally as she could to put the patient at ease.

“Yeah, I guess so,” Mary replied.

When Megan reached for Mary’s arm to find a place for the needle, Mary winced. “Ouch.”

As Megan surveyed the forearm, she shook her head. “Looks like you’ve got a break there.”

“My arm is broken?” Mary asked in a panic.

“We won’t know until we get you into X-ray. I’m going to try this vein here in your wrist.” The needle slipped easily into the vein, and Megan started the IV.

Pesh appeared in the doorway then. He smiled at Mary on the gurney. “Hello, Mary, I’m Dr. Nadeen. I understand you had a little accident today?”

She nodded. “This car came out of nowhere and hit me head on.”

“I’m so sorry. Why don’t we start by you telling me where it hurts?”

“My chest,” she said, with a grimace.

Pesh pulled back the hospital gown. “Were you wearing your seat belt?”

“Yes, I always do.”

“From the dust in your hair, can I assume the airbag deployed?”

“Yeah, it did.”

“Is this where it hurts?” he asked, running his fingers down an angry red whelp. It started at her neck and crossed over her chest. Some of it was hidden by the many leads coming from the heart monitor.

“Yeah.”

“It looks like the seat belt and the airbag did a number on you.”

Mary winced. “I thought they were supposed to help you, not hurt you.”

Pesh smiled. “Trust me. You’re much better off with a little burn than if you hadn’t been wearing it.” After eyeing the monitors Mary was hooked up to, he turned to Megan. “Blood pressure is low. Let’s administer some blood products to raise it.”

Megan nodded. After checking Mary’s chart for her blood type, she grabbed a bag of blood from the coolers. Trading places with Pesh, she started another IV in the crook of Mary’s right elbow.

“Besides your chest, are you hurting anywhere else?” Pesh asked, after he finished listening to her heart and lungs.

“My stomach.”

Megan’s breath hitched. It was never good for a car accident patient to have stomach pains. That usually meant hemorrhaging, which could also attribute the low blood pressure.

Pressing on Mary’s abdomen, Pesh asked, “Does this hurt?”

“No.”

“Here?”

“No.”

“What about here?”

A screech came from the bed. Pesh’s brows drew with worry. “I’m going to do a quick ultrasound, Mary. I want to see what’s causing the pain.”

“Okay.”

Megan pulled the machine over to the bedside. She squirted the jelly onto Mary’s stomach, and then Pesh began running the wand over the skin.

“I’m feeling a little dizzy, too,” Mary said, in a low voice.

Pesh and Megan exchanged a quick look before he shoved the ultrasound machine back. Turning to Kristi, he said, “Call the OR. She’s got a ruptured spleen.”

After depressing the break on the gurney, Pesh swung it out of the trauma room and started down the hall. “Go with him,” Kristi instructed, as she held onto the phone.

Megan jogged down the hall to catch up with Pesh. He smacked the buttons on the elevator before glancing down at Mary. “Stay with me, okay? We’re going to get you into surgery, and then you’ll be good as new.”

“Are you sure?” she asked.

Without hesitation, Pesh replied, “Yes, but you have to stay with me.”

The elevator’s doors slid open. As Megan helped Pesh push the gurney inside, Mary asked, “Did you turn on more lights?”

Megan creased her brows in worry as she glanced over to Pesh. “We’re getting in the elevator to take you to the OR for surgery,” she replied.

“But it’s so bright,” Mary whispered before closing her eyes. Her head lolled to the side just as the alarms on the monitors began screeching in Megan’s ears. “Dammit, she’s crashing!” Pesh cried.

Ice-cold fear pricked its way from the top of Megan’s head all the way down her body. A patient was crashing in the elevator without the crash cart. What the hell were they supposed to do? “Lower the gurney,” Pesh ordered.

Megan’s jerky hands fumbled with the lever. Once it was flat, Pesh brought his hands to Mary’s chest and began compressions. Without having to be told, Megan leaned down, pinched Mary’s nose, and began breathing into her mouth. They worked in perfect synchronization.

“Stay with me, Mary!” Pesh barked, as his hands pumped in a manic pace up and down on Mary’s chest.

Glancing up from her breathing, Megan eyed the monitors. “No pulse.”

When Pesh didn’t respond, she continued doing breathing cycles. At the taste of something warm meeting her lips, she jerked back. Blood oozed out of Mary’s mouth. “There’s more damage than the spleen. She’s bleeding from the mouth.” Pesh didn’t even acknowledge her comment. “The seat belt and airbag could have caused an aortic tear as well. There’s nothing we can do.”

Instead, he kept right on with his compressions. The elevator doors opened, and Megan met the expectant faces of the surgical team. When one doctor stepped forward, she shook her head. “She’s gone.”

Pesh growled across from her. “No, she isn’t. We have to keep trying. Get a cart in here.”

The doctor eyed the stats on the monitors. “I don’t think it will help.”

Jerking his head up from Mary, Pesh snarled, “Get the fucking cart!”

As one of the nurses scrambled away, two others pulled the gurney from the elevator. Megan stood back, feeling helpless as to what to do. Once the cart arrived, Pesh ripped open Mary’s gown. “Charging 260 joules.” He rubbed the paddles together. “Clear!”

Mary’s chest jolted off the gurney with the force of the electricity. Megan didn’t need to look at the monitors. The heart stayed in a flat line. “Charging 360 joules.” Megan closed her eyes when Pesh administered the second shock. “Dammit, Jade, don’t do this! Try for me!”

Megan couldn’t hold back the gasp that escaped her at Pesh calling Mary by his late wife’s name. Before Pesh could do another charge, one of the surgeon’s stepped forward. After he removed his mask, he put his hand on Pesh’s back. “Calling time of death.”

Defeated, Pesh dropped his head. Slowly, he eased back from the gurney. A nurse took the paddles from him and put them back on the cart. “I’ll go notify the family,” Pesh murmured.

The surgeon shook his head and stared pointedly at Megan. “Get a resident to do that. Nadeen, you go take a breather, buddy.”

“They deserve to speak to the doctor who was with her when she died.”

“You don’t need to do this.”

Pesh slung away from the surgeon and started for the elevator. Megan knew there was no point in arguing with him or trying to get one of the residents to take his place. She didn’t know if she should try to go to him or not. She regretted her decision when he turned to face her in the elevator. His expression was agonizingly broken. As the doors closed, her heart ached for him. She knew any doctor hated to lose a patient, especially a young one, but this went far deeper than that. From his behavior, Megan knew that Mary’s death had exposed a raw nerve in Pesh—one that after two years still hadn’t healed. Somehow he had seen his wife in Mary, and once again, he wasn’t able to save her.

* * *

After she had escorted Mary’s body back upstairs to wait on the funeral home, Megan went in search of Pesh. She couldn’t find him in any of the exam rooms, nor was he in the doctors’ lounge or break room. Finally, she went to Kristi for answers. “Did you see where Dr. Nadeen went?”