He Missed My Emergency To Deliver Her Dog’s Puppies Chapter 02

He Missed My Emergency To Deliver Her Dog’s Puppies Chapter 02

Julian never panicked. But right now, panic was exactly what I saw flashing in his eyes.

“Stella was a wreck over Buster. I took her out to take her mind off it, she had too much to drink, and it just… happened.”

He pulled himself together, softening his voice.

“Look, let’s just drop it. I’ll go with you to the next appointment. I promise.”

There it was. The same routine every time.

A lazy excuse, then one little crumb of sweetness to shut me up. Like that made it okay.

But there wouldn’t be another appointment, Julian.

“Don’t bother. I want a divorce.”

He stared at me. Then his jaw tightened, and the softness vanished.

“God, Clara, always the dramatic reporter. Always turning everything into a headline. I told you it was an accident. Why do you have to blow it up into something it’s not?”

“And let’s be real. You’re pushing thirty, pregnant, and stuck in the back office at a TV station. You think anyone else is lining up for you? I’m the best you’re gonna get.”

“I break my back at that hospital every single day for this family. I don’t come home to deal with you manufacturing drama out of thin air.”

He was already heading for the door.

Something caught his eye at the entryway. A corner of paper sticking out of my bag.

Two words printed at the top: Death certificates.

He turned back, confused.

“Who died?”

He reached for it.

But his phone went off. Stella, crying on the other end.

“Julian, one of the puppies choked on milk and I still have customers in the shop. I can’t handle this alone.”

“He’s not gonna die, is he? I’m so scared…”

His whole face changed.

“Don’t cry. I’m on my way.”

And just like that, he was gone. Didn’t even look back.

He left in such a rush he forgot to lock his study. The one room he’d never wanted me in.

Something drew me inside. I didn’t plan it. But what I found under his desk stopped me cold.

Back then, I was the station’s rising star. They gave me the Mr. Mills profile, the interview everyone wanted.

But Mr. Mills was impossible. Proud, cold, and he turned me away without a second thought.

I’d been pulling all-nighters for days trying to find another angle. My blood sugar crashed, and I passed out in the hospital garden.

Julian found me. Brought me back around, sat with me. Told me not to waste my time, because Mr. Mills never changed his mind about anything.

I slumped, defeated. Then something sweet hit my tongue. He’d popped an orange candy right into my mouth.

Julian winked.

“Lucky for you, I’ve got a thing for people who don’t quit. So you can interview me instead.”

I didn’t know it then, but he was the youngest medical professor in the city.

Half the press in town had been chasing him for an interview. He said yes to me. Just me.

That was how we started.

As the years went on, things got harder to balance. One night, Julian sat me down with that look, the one that meant he was about to ask for something he knew wasn’t fair.

“Clara, I know how much your career means to you.”

“But someone has to be around for the family. Could you take a step back? I know it’s a lot to ask. But I’ll make it up to you. I swear.”

I knew what he was chasing, too. He wanted to be the best. The kind of surgeon people wrote about.

So I gave in.

I didn’t quit. I transferred to the back office instead. It wasn’t much, but at least I was still inside the building. Still close enough to pretend.

Some nights I couldn’t sleep. I’d sit up in the dark, turning my press badge over in my hands.

Whenever Julian caught me doing it, guilt would flood his face. He’d hold me and say it again, that he’d make it up to me.

And now here it was. My press badge. Wedged under a desk leg to keep the desk from wobbling.

The combination to the safe tucked beneath it was Stella’s birthday. It opened on the first try.

A thick manila envelope sat right on top.

Inside were photos. Dozens of them. Julian and Stella.

Hugging. Kissing. Walking hand in hand down some beach.

Underneath the photos were receipts. He’d paid for her house. Funded her business. Covered the renovations.

Her shop lost money every month, and every month, he covered the losses.