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?”
Kristi gave her a sad smile. “You’ll probably find him on the roof.”
Megan’s brows shot up in surprise. “The roof?”
Kristi nodded. “Whenever he has a really bad day about his wife—” She sucked in a breath when she realized she might have said too much.
At the thought of Pesh’s grief, Megan’s chest tightened in agony. He was too good of a man to have to suffer like he did. “So he goes up to the roof?” Megan finished for Kristi.
“He likes to be alone to clear his head. Although none of us would say anything, he usually ends up pulling another shift to make up for the time he was gone.”
Of course Pesh would do something like that. He was honorable every moment of his life, even after those of immense grief. Even though she knew he probably wanted and needed to be alone, Megan wanted to check on him. She couldn’t bear the thoughts of him suffering so much.
“Um, if it’s okay, I think I’ll go ahead and take my dinner break.”
Kristi gave her a knowing look before nodding. “Sure, honey. Go right ahead.”
Megan smiled before brushing past Kristi. She bypassed the break room where her purse was. Instead, she kept going. After a brisk walk down the hall, she got to the Authorized Personnel Only stairwell. She didn’t dare use the elevator shaft where trauma patients were brought in from being airlifted. Without hesitation, Megan swiped her access card. When the lock clicked, she flung the door open and started up the flights of stairs. She was winded when she reached the top. Cautiously, her hand hovered over the doorknob. She couldn’t help wondering what she might find on the other side. Would Pesh be an emotional mess? Would he be angry that she had interrupted his private grieving? Shaking the thoughts from her head, she flung open the door.
As she stepped onto the roof, the air grew cooler. A breeze rippled her scrubs. Her gaze spun around frantically until she found him. Pesh stood at the edge of the roof. His usual ramrod straight posture was slumped, his broad shoulders drawn in. Although she couldn’t see his face, his gaze seemed fixed straight ahead into the night sky. To add insult to injury, clouds blotted out the stars, cloaking everything in darkness.
Tentatively, she started over to him. “Hey,” she said softly.
He whirled around in surprise. Her heart clenched at the sight of the tears sparkling in his eyes. Even in the darkness, she could see a blood-red flush entering his cheeks. His hands quickly came up to swipe away the moisture from his eyes. “Hello,” he finally replied in a hoarse whisper.
They stood in an awkward silence, staring each other down. Finally, Megan took a step forward to close the gap between them. “How did you know I was up here?” he asked.
“Kristi told me.”
“Hmm.”
Unable to stop herself, she reached out to touch his arm. “I’m so sorry, Pesh.”
“It isn’t necessary.”
She shook her head. “Yes, it is. You’re in pain…you’ve been in pain. I can’t help but feel sorry for what you’re going through.”
His usually warm eyes took on a cold look. “You were in that elevator, too. You have every right to be emotional. Maybe you should be more concerned with why you aren’t weeping.”
“Don’t,” she murmured.
“Don’t what?”
“Don’t try to mask your pain by being someone you’re not or by pointing fingers at others. That isn’t you, and you can’t fool me.”
With a ragged sigh, Pesh jerked his hand through his dark, wavy hair. “I’m sorry. That was completely uncalled for.”
“It’s okay.”
“No, it’s—” She silenced him by bringing her hand up to cover his lips. When she pulled her hand away, he sighed.
“Talk to me,” Megan pleaded.
The clouds above them opened up, causing a slight drizzle to fall. “The death of a patient is never easy. Any doctor of worth, or nurse for that matter, must possess compassion. Then it is inevitable that the same compassion you possess will come back to haunt you—it may even cripple you. When death comes, you can’t help feeling for the life that has been lost and for the family members left behind.” His voice choked off, and Megan drew herself even closer to him. She knew that his last statement held personal meaning for him.
“What exactly happened to your wife?” she questioned softly.
Pesh’s eyes closed. “Jade had an undiagnosed clotting condition. She was adopted, so she didn’t know anything really about her family history. She’d always been in perfect health—she rarely even went to the doctor with the sniffles. And after we’d been married for three years, we decided it was time to have a baby.”
When Pesh remained silent, Megan tentatively asked, “Did she die in childbirth?”
He shook his head. “No, we never got that far. We tried for over a year to get pregnant on our own, and it didn’t happen. So we were recommended to a fertility clinic. Once the IUI process didn’t work, we started IVF.” A ragged sigh came from deep in his chest. “The whole process was physically trying and then emotionally gutting for both of us, but especially for Jade.” He met her gaze. “She blamed herself since the testing revealed that everything was fine with me. Although we were labeled as ‘non-specific infertility,’ she felt that it was all her fault.”
“Bless her heart,” Megan murmured, as her heart went out to a woman she’d never met. Getting pregnant had been so easy for her. Although Mason wasn’t necessarily expected, he had never been unwanted in her eyes. But she knew what infertility did to a woman when she saw it ravage her father’s sister. Although her aunt was now the happy and doting mother of two adopted girls, she knew the emotional toil not getting pregnant had taken. Megan, herself, had once been the recipient of her aunt’s childless pain when she had announced her pregnancy with Mason.