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.
Still without answers as to how Jade had died, Megan pressed Pesh for more. “So what happened with the IVF?”
“She got pregnant on the first transfer only to miscarry three weeks later. We had just been through another transfer when she died.” Pesh’s Adam’s apple bobbed up and down as he swallowed hard. Megan could only imagine he was trying to keep his emotions in check. Finally, he spoke again. “She had an embolism most likely brought on by the fertility medication. I was in the kitchen making breakfast when I heard a crash in the bedroom.” Tears pooled in his eyes. “When I called her name and she didn’t answer, I ran back to her. She was crumpled on the bedroom floor. After calling 911, I did CPR over and over again, but I could never revive her.”
“Oh Pesh,” Megan murmured. The weight of his pain was so heavy that even she found it hard to breathe.
Without looking at her, he continued staring straight ahead. “From what the medical examiner said, I have some peace in knowing she didn’t suffer—that she went quickly without any fear or pain. One minute she was getting ready for work, and the next she was gone.”
“It’s true that there is some peace, especially the fact she didn’t know she was going to die. Sometimes I can’t imagine what it must be like for terminal patients.” She shuddered. “When you wonder if every day is your last, when you have to think about all you’re going to miss.”