Pregnant by the Single Dad Doc
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Louisa Heaton
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CHAPTER ONE
WITH HER NOSE almost pressed up against the glass, Ellie stared at the row of incubators. Inside babies, some no bigger than the palm of her hand, lay covered in wires, tubes and nappies and hats that seemed far more suited to bigger, stronger babies. Dwarfing them even more.
She tried to swallow, but her mouth and her throat were dry. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and her legs were feeling as though if she didn’t sit down within the next ten seconds she was going to collapse.
Ellie pressed her hand to the glass to steady herself, trying not to look at the faces of the parents who sat by each baby. She didn’t want to see the pain on their faces and be reminded of her own grief. At least these parents still had hope.
Being here was bad. But it was something she was just going to have to get through if she wanted to achieve her dream of becoming a doctor. The university had placed her here—in the NICU. The Neonatal Intensive Care Unit at Queen’s Hospital. So she didn’t have a choice.
It was just a few weeks.
I can do this.
This part of the hospital had been nicknamed ‘The Nest’, because all the premature babies looked like scrawny, pink newborn birds. Here they got rest, warmth, food and protection, in the hope that one day they’d fledge and leave The Nest to go to their new homes with their families.
This was a place of hope. These families would not do well if they sensed her fear, so she turned away from the glass and sank down into one of the chairs as she awaited her mentor, Dr Richard Wilson.
She’d spoken to him on the phone just last week. He’d sounded a kindly old chap. Patient, sympathetic, friendly. Which was nice, considering some of the other mentors she’d been paired with during her training. He’d spoken to her at great length about what he hoped she would get from her placement with him, where she was in her training, what year of study she was in, which wards she’d worked on before, what he would expect from her. All standard stuff, but he had sounded different. Like a kindly grandfather.
She’d almost considered telling him about Samuel, but her nerves had got the better of her, and she hadn’t been sure she’d get through it without crying, so she’d decided to delay until she’d been here a while and could judge the best time to tell her story. Because he would be bound to ask questions about it. He’d want to know about her experience as a patient. What had driven her to make the choices she faced today.
Finding it hard to swallow, she dug in her bag for her bottle of water, rummaging past all the other items. Phone. Purse. Tissues with a soothing aloe vera balm in case she lost control of her tears and didn’t want to look like Rudolph afterwards. Pens. Notebook. A 2014 copy of the BNF that a kindly pharmacist had given her free of charge. It listed all drugs and medicines, what they were used for and what their interactions were, and she didn’t want to look stupid. Tampons, just in case, a packet of painkillers and emergency chocolate...
Ah! The water bottle.
She struggled to open the lid, almost burning her palm as it came unscrewed, and then she took a giant swallow.
That’s so much better.
Putting the lid back on, she stashed it in her bag and checked her appearance once more. She wanted to make a good impression on Dr Wilson. Show him that she meant business and that she was here to learn and get the most from her placement—even if this department did scare the hell out of her.
She sat there trying to steel herself, knowing that if she could just get through this first day, then the next day would be easier. And the one after that. And then she’d get into the flow. Perhaps see that this place wasn’t as scary as she believed it to be. She would get past this placement and look back at her time on it and laugh that she’d been so scared in the first place!
It was ridiculous, the state of her nerves! Allowing herself so get so worked up.
It’s stupid. It’s—
‘Ellie?’
She heard incredulity in a man’s voice and turned to see who’d recognised her, expecting it to be a case of mistaken identity. But it wasn’t. Not at all.
Shocked, she got to her feet. ‘Logan?’ Ellie couldn’t believe her eyes. Old, painful memories whizzed by at the speed of light. Was it really him?
Her brain scrambled to try and work out how long it had been since they’d last seen each other, but her mind couldn’t compute and the numbers remained unreachable. Was she overjoyed? Yes. Was she apprehensive? Oh, yes. It had been years. Years since she had last seen him and he’d broken her heart by telling her that he thought it best if they were just friends.
Did I ever really get over you? No.
He’d devastated her that day. Had ended all her dreams of the future back then. But perhaps that had simply served to begin making her who she was today. Stronger. More independent. Perhaps she should thank him for that first strike against her heart? It had made her ready for all the others.
Physically, he looked different. Changed from the gangly youth of their teens into a broader, more solid-looking man. Wider at the shoulders, with a squareness of jaw that was now more pronounced. The years had been good to him and he’d clearly thrived without her.
Would he look at her and think the same? Probably not. She wasn’t the entrepreneur she’d always said she’d be. She wasn’t at the top of some corporate ladder, wearing a power suit and waving a platinum card. She’d gone back to the beginning. Was a student again. She was on the bottom rung of the career ladder when she’d always aspired to be at the top.
She noticed he wore a name badge clipped to his belt—a sign that he worked in this hospital, identifying him as a member of staff. A doctor, of course. He’d left her behind to become one. His father was an oncologist, his mother had been... She struggled for the memory. Oh, yes. An obstetrician. When Logan had left her to pursue his dream of medical school she hadn’t known what speciality he wanted to pursue. She hoped it wasn’t this one.
‘What are you doing here?’ she asked, hoping he was just passing through. Maybe he was dropping off some notes for a patient and then he would be gone again. Hopefully to work in the department that was furthest from this one. Gerontology, perhaps?
‘I saw the name in the diary, but I didn’t think it would be you.’
In the diary? Why was he looking in the department’s diary? Surely that was private to Dr Wilson and his staff?
A sense of dread began to filter its way into her body, but she didn’t want it to show on her face. She looked up and down the corridor, past the black and white artistic photographs of babies, past the noticeboard filled with old notices that should probably have been taken down years ago. Looking—hoping—to see Dr Wilson appear.
Perhaps if she concentrated really hard she could magic him up?
But the corridor remained resolutely empty and she turned back to face Logan, her cheeks hot, smiling politely. ‘I’m here for Dr Wilson.’
Logan nodded. ‘You’re the new medical student?’
Her smile was almost a rictus, and she couldn’t stand there talking to him any longer because it hurt too much already and... Oh, Logan!
‘Yes. I am. So, if you could just excuse me? I need to let Dr Wilson know that I’m here. I don’t want him to think that I’m late.’
And if I say his name often enough it might summon him.
She pushed past him, glad to find that, yes, indeed her legs were still working, and were even remarkably co-ordinated.
But as she passed him their shoulders brushed, and she inhaled a pleasurable scent of soap and sandalwood, and it was like being catapulted back to when she was eighteen years old and in his bedroom, sitting cross-legged on his bed, laughing at him because he was trying on different kinds of body spray for their date night. And then she’d got up from the bed and pulled him close to inhale the scent of his skin...
‘Dr Wilson isn’t here.’
His voice stopped her in her tracks and she closed her eyes in despair. Heart pounding hard against her ribs, she turned back to look at him. ‘No? But he’s meant to be meeting me. He’s my mentor.’
Logan looked uncomfortable. ‘He’s not. His wife...she died this weekend.’
Oh.
That was dreadful news. Terrible! What was she to do? She’d have to ring her university. Tell them she needed to be assigned another mentor.
Shocked, she began to rummage in her bag.
‘What are you doing?’
‘I need to phone my tutor so they can assign me to someone else.’
Where was the damned phone? It had been there just a minute ago, when she’d dug inside to find her water. It must have gone all the way to the bottom and—
‘They already have.’
She looked up at him, frowning. ‘Who?’
But she already knew the answer just by looking at his face. A face that looked both guilty and apprehensive. A face that she had once kissed all over in bright red lipstick whilst he slept and then taken a picture of to give him as a card on Valentine’s Day. A face that she had once caressed just to see how it went from smooth to bristly around his mouth.
‘It’s me. I’m your new mentor.’
Her heart sank.
Ellie Jones.
It felt strange, standing there just looking at her again. As if time meant nothing—as if all those years without her had been compressed into a microsecond of time. Her hair was a little longer, but still that dark so-black-it-was-almost-blue colour. Her eyes looked wary. Tired. As if she’d seen enough bad things in the world, thank you very much. Or perhaps it was just the way she was looking at him?
He was very much aware that he had broken her heart once, ruined her expectations of life and let her down. So perhaps she was suspicious as to how he could be the best mentor for her? He hadn’t meant to break her heart. He thought he’d done the right thing for them both and she couldn’t possibly know just how much their break-up had affected him.
But he was determined, here and now, to be the best mentor she could possibly have. As far as he was concerned the past was in the past, and though he’d hurt her once he would never do so again! He was going to push her hard during this placement, so that when she left she would realise that he had tried to make up to her for his failure in the past.
It was the least he could do. If she wanted to be a doctor, then he’d make her one. The best doctor she could be.
But can I stand to see her walk away from me again?
She’d never mentioned wanting to be a doctor before. He would have remembered something like that. Hadn’t she wanted to run her own business? What had changed in her life to make her pursue this path? Because it wasn’t easy. Not by a long shot. But if this was what she wanted then he would give it to her.
‘I’ll show you where you can put your things.’
She nodded, uncertain, clearly still hesitant.
Perhaps he ought to clear the air? State his intentions?
He turned. ‘Look, Ellie, I know this isn’t an ideal situation for us both, but I’m going to make sure you get the best education whilst you’re on this unit with me, okay? You’re here to learn and I’m here to teach. That’s all it’s going to be. All right?’
He hoped he could remain true to his word without letting in those pesky emotions he knew were still running so close to the surface.
Rooted to the ground, she simply stared up at him. That’s all it’s going to be? What else did he think was going to happen? That she was going to fall in love with him all over again? Or that it had already happened?
He had to be crazy if he thought that. She didn’t need him stating the facts of the case as if she were some simpering spinster who thought there might be a chance of romance in the air simply because they’d been in love before.
It got her hackles up.
He’d walked her to a locker, where she’d left her things, taking only a notebook and pen with her that she could slide into her trouser pocket if she needed her hands free to perform or assist with a procedure. And now she was almost running to keep up with him.
‘What’s the number one reason babies end up in the NICU?’
Logan was giving her a lightning tour of the unit, asking questions as he went, not giving her any time to linger or think too much. So be it. Fine. She was here to learn. She’d show him how much it meant to her.
‘Prematurity.’
‘And the number one condition we see?’
She hesitated and he stopped to stare at her, waiting for a suitable answer. Had his eyes always been so blue? So intense? It was hypnotic to be under his gaze once again.
‘Newborn jaundice?’
He considered her answer but his gaze was still scanning her face, as if he was familiarising himself with her features. ‘Tell me about jaundice. What causes it in a newborn?’
She didn’t know if it was different for newborns, but when she’d been on a general surgery ward there had been a patient there who had had jaundice.
‘Er...high levels of bilirubin?’
‘Are you asking me or telling me?’
‘Telling you.’
He nodded. ‘Good. In this place, more than any other in the hospital with maybe the exception of Paediatrics, we have to be clear and firm about our diagnoses when discussing our patients with their parents. They don’t want to hear hesitation. They don’t want to hear doubt. They need to hear confidence and assuredness. Yes?’
She nodded.
‘Okay, so what’s bilirubin?’
She rifled through the files in her brain, trying to find the most efficient way of delivering an answer that sounded assured. ‘A by-product of the breakdown of red blood cells.’
He began walking and again she followed fast on his heels, admiring the waistcoat that tightly encircled his middle, his flat stomach, his broad shoulders...
‘And how would we notice it?’
‘Yellowing of the skin—usually hands and feet. Eyes. Er...dark urine.’
‘And what causes it in babies, specifically?’ Now he stopped at a door that led into another room filled with incubators. Behind him she saw a row of them, one or two nurses and a few stressed-looking parents.
‘The...er...liver isn’t fully developed in a neonate, so it isn’t as effective at removing the bilirubin from the blood.’
He nodded. ‘Good. You’ve been reading up for this placement?’
She let out a breath. ‘As much as I could along with...you know...doing assignments and things.’
‘Stay on top of it. It’s essential.’
‘I will.’
She was a little annoyed that he was being this way—telling her what to do, being standoffish and abrupt—but she didn’t want to say anything because he was now her mentor and, quite frankly, she’d had worse. But because of their personal history it niggled that he was the one telling her what to do.
‘There are two babies in this next bay with jaundice, both being treated with fibre optic phototherapy. We have blankets that are laced with fibre optic cables, which shine directly onto the babies’ backs. What contra-indications should we be aware of?’
She didn’t know. There’d not been anything about that in the text she’d read earlier. ‘Um...’
He answered for her. ‘Temperature needs to be checked, and we must also make sure they don’t get dehydrated.’
Of course! It was obvious now that she thought about it, and she felt like kicking herself for not knowing the answer in front of him. Her cheeks flushed red, but he didn’t see because he was pushing the door open and showing her where she could wash her hands.
‘Right—over here we have Bailey Newport and his mum, Sam.’
Ellie gave a nervous smile to the mum.
‘Bailey is one of a set of triplets, born prematurely at thirty-two weeks. Sam had an emergency C-section, due to the threat of pre-eclampsia, but we only had one free cot, so her husband Tom is with the other two babies at St Richard’s. We’re hoping to get the family together as quickly as we can, but right now it’s impossible to do so.’
Sam gave them a patient smile. ‘It’s difficult, but we take it in turns to be with each baby as much as we can. I’m expressing, but...’
Her voice trailed away as she looked down at her son and Ellie felt as if someone had punched her in the gut. Her baby was small. Thin, scrawny limbs, his body covered, it seemed, by wires and tubes. His tiny little hands scrunched up tight.
Witnessing hurt and pain like this would be the most difficult part of this placement, and she had to grit her teeth really hard and concentrate on her breathing so that she didn’t let it overwhelm her.
‘Bailey’s taking his mum’s milk well. He’s one of the babies we have using the phototherapy, but his bilirubin levels are coming down nicely and we hope we can wean him off that soon.’
‘That’s good. Have you been able to hold him yet?’ she asked Sam. She knew that was what any new mother wanted more than anything.
‘Just the once. Everyone’s so busy...we sometimes don’t get the chance to.’
Logan looked at her directly. ‘Perhaps you’d like to help Sam hold Bailey right now?’
‘Really? I’d love to.’
‘Okay, let’s wash our hands first.’
‘Ooh! Me too!’ Sam beamed.
As Sam did that Logan stood on the opposite side of the incubator from Ellie and they looked at each other over the top of it. His hot gaze was full of questions and uncertainty and she wondered what he was thinking? Was he glad that she was here? As his student? Or was he troubled by it? He seemed to be looking at her as if he was really struggling with it.
She didn’t think she would fall in love with him again. She wasn’t after falling in love with anyone—not after what had happened between her and Daniel. But he could at least look at her fondly, as if he remembered the times they’d shared. As if she was his friend. He seemed to be looking at a space just off to her left now. As if he couldn’t quite meet her gaze directly.
When Sam had washed her hands, she and Logan did the same and then he showed her how to open up the incubator, so that Bailey and all his tubes and wires could be safely transferred over to Mum and nothing would be caught, or twisted, or blocked.
She nodded and stood by his side, aware of his closeness, listening to his sensible instructions and trying not to think too much about how close they had been and how this was going to be the first baby she’d held since Samuel.
He’d been bigger than Bailey. Full-term, almost. Bailey seemed tiny in comparison and she didn’t want to hurt him.
When the moment came she picked him up reverently, as if he was a precious Crown Jewel she was transferring to a safe, holding her breath until the transfer was done and she’d smilingly laid him in his mother’s embrace.
Sam’s face lit up with joy. ‘Hello, little man. It’s Mummy.’ She glanced up with happiness, her eyes welling with tears as she looked to Ellie and Logan with gratitude. ‘Thank you so much!’
Ellie could have stood there all day, feeling all the feelings, just watching this mother with her precious son, experiencing that moment. There was nothing else like it. Such a powerful image...a mother holding her child.
She’d had a similar moment herself, only hers had not been tinged with joy but with grief.
Feeling her own tears well up, she hurriedly blinked them away, wiping her eyes just in case.
Logan saw Ellie try to hide her tears and he was rocked to his core, fighting the urge to hold her. To comfort her. The Ellie he’d known had never been so emotional or sentimental. She’d been determined and strong, batting away the troubles of life with a confident smile on her face and a you can’t hurt me shield.
It was something he’d always admired about her—especially when her father had become sick and needed that heart transplant. He’d marvelled at her stoic attitude, amazed at her strength as her father’s health had continued to dwindle until the call eventually came to say that there was a heart for him.
Back then he would have crumbled under such similar circumstances, but thankfully his parents had been blessed with fine health. Something they were taking full advantage of now, in their retirement years, travelling the globe. The last he’d heard from them they’d been in Bali and had sent him a postcard of the beach there.
Perhaps it was this place? The NICU? It was a stressful environment for anyone to be in. No one wanted their family to need to come here. No one wanted to see babies covered in wires and needing machines to breathe for them, or tubes to feed them. He had to fight the feeling to reach out and wrap his arms around her and soothe her upset.
Trying to remember his own first day on the NICU, Logan thought back to his own emotions and feelings and recalled how apprehensive he’d been, how fragile the babies had seemed, how complicated it had all looked. Had he wanted to cry? No, but...
Then there’d been the day that Rachel was born. And he’d had to come here. Not as a doctor, but as a parent...
Perhaps instead of soothing Ellie, he ought to be toughening her up?
‘Ellie, could I have a quick word outside?’
He turned to leave, squirting his hands with antiseptic gel as he did so, rubbing the alcohol cleanser into his skin and waiting for her to join him. His heart was thudding, and he knew he’d sounded stern, but he hadn’t been able to help it. Her being here had thrown him into turmoil.
Ellie closed the door quietly behind her and looked at him questioningly.
‘I know this is a difficult place to be,’ he said, searching for the right words, not wanting to come across as harsh. ‘But it’s best for everyone if the medical staff—doctors, nurses and assistants—maintain some kind of emotional distance.’
‘Yes, you’re right.’
He almost didn’t hear her whispered reply, so determined was he to make sure that she understood. ‘You can’t get attached in here. You can care—just not too much. Or a job like this could destroy you. Do you understand?’
She frowned. ‘Is that how you do it? By being emotionally distant?’
Was she referring to now? Or to the past? He couldn’t quite tell. One way it would seem like a genuine enquiry, the other like a slight. A comment on an inherent fault in his being. But he refused to apologise for either.
‘It’s the only way to survive. So why don’t you take a moment to regroup and then join me in Bay Two? There’s a case of gastroschisis I think you should see.’
He watched her go, wondering. Had he been too sharp? Too terse? He didn’t want to be. Having her back with him like this was...wonderful.
It reminded him of how much he’d missed her.
Ellie stared at her reflection in the mirror, angry at herself for allowing her weakness to escape. She wanted to blame Logan, but she couldn’t. She’d wanted him to treat her like any other medical student and he was. He was simply doing his job, and if she’d got emotional in any other ward her mentor would have advised her to maintain her distance there, too.
No. This was her own damned fault. Her own damned emotions. She slammed her hand against the sink in frustration, shaking her head, keeping eye contact with herself as she gave herself a really good telling-off.
Get a grip! You’re stronger than this. Do you want Logan, of all people, to think of you as incapable?
Nothing had ever been able to bring her down like this. Nothing!
Until Samuel. And then something had changed within her. The floodgates of emotion had opened and it seemed that now every little thing could bring her to tears. Films, books... Emotional adverts—especially all those Christmas ones that told a little story. Or the ones begging for money for starving children, or children with no clean water to drink. Something about their faces... The sorrowful music... The silent tears that spoke of a pain that couldn’t be heard. She felt it all like daggers in her heart, making her feel useless and hopeless. Weak and pathetic.
Her mum had told her she would change when she became a mum herself and she’d been right.
Ellie grabbed a couple of paper towels and dabbed at her face until it was dry. Then she took a couple of deep breaths to steady herself. To calm down. She couldn’t afford a moment like this again.
‘Right, then, Ellie. You can do this, all right?’ she said aloud, and out of nowhere came a memory of something she’d read about standing in the ‘power pose’. Wide-legged stance, hands on hips, shoulders back, chin raised. Like a superhero. How it could instil belief and confidence.
So she did that for a moment, because it was easier than having to do some kind of haka, which would have been noisier and slightly more embarrassing.
Her reflection smiled back at her.
The power pose was working.
Accepting his place at medical school had been a double-edged sword for Logan. His unconditional offer from Edinburgh had been fantastic, but it had also been difficult. Becoming a doctor was all he’d ever wanted to do. His parents were doctors, and he’d known he’d wanted to do that all his life.
He just hadn’t expected that when it happened he’d have to leave behind the woman he loved.
She’d been sitting on his bed, flicking through a magazine, completely unaware that he had momentous news to share.
‘I checked UCAS today.’
She’d looked up, dropped the magazine. Sat up straight. ‘And?’
‘I got an unconditional offer.’
Her face had lit up and she’d screamed with delight, bouncing on his bed as if it was a trampoline before jumping off and throwing her arms around him. ‘That’s amazing!’
He’d held her tightly, inhaling the scent of her hair, trying to take in every detail about her. Knowing he had to tell her the next part. The difficult part.
‘It’s Edinburgh.’
He’d felt her freeze in his arms.
She’d pulled back to look at him, confused. ‘Edinburgh? I thought you applied to colleges here in London?’
‘I did. But Edinburgh’s the one to offer me a place. Remember we went up there on the train with Mum and Dad for that interview day?’
‘But I thought that you said it was too far away?’
‘I did, but...’ And then he’d felt a small surge of anger that he was having to defend this. ‘We can still see each other. It just won’t be as often as we’d like.’
‘No. It won’t be.’
He’d looked away. Not happy to see the look of hurt on her face. He didn’t enjoy seeing her sad. ‘We can make it work,’ he’d offered, hoping that they could.
They were so young to have fallen in love, and they were being thrown by this, and he hadn’t been sure what the best course of action would be to stop her from hurting.
After he’d left—after he’d spent his first term away—he’d felt their separation more keenly. When he’d spoken to her on the phone he’d been able to hear the pain in her voice. How much she’d missed him...how much he’d missed her.
But what could he have done about it? He’d been so busy! Inundated by assignments, lectures and placements, he’d known there was no chance of him travelling all the way back to London, and no way she could come up to him either, because he needed to work.
He’d hated listening to her cry as they said goodbye each time. He’d wanted to do something to ease her pain, to try and make it easier for her, but the distance between them had made it hard. Each phone call they’d shared had been another stab wound. He hadn’t been able to wrap his arms around her. He hadn’t been able to kiss her or stroke her hair the way he usually would when she was upset.
He’d begun to think about setting her free. About whether he was being cruel to continue with the relationship, knowing that she’d be waiting for him for years. Ellie had dreams of her own. How could she follow them if she was waiting for him? He hadn’t wanted to lose her. He hadn’t wanted to walk away. What if she met someone else? But he had felt it might be the kindest thing—even if it hurt them both in the short term.
He’d called her on the phone. ‘We need to talk.’
A heavy silence. ‘About what?’
‘About us,’ he’d said, quietly. ‘I don’t think this is working. I’ve thought about this long and hard, Ellie, and I think it’s best if we...’
‘If we what?’ Her voice had sounded timid.
‘If we just stay friends.’ It had broken his own heart to say it. To cut the cord. To let her go. But he had done it for her. So she could have a life.
‘Why?’
‘It’s impossible, what we’re doing. You’re just waiting for me, Ellie, and that’s wrong. You’re waiting for me to finish med school. And even after that I’ll have to work, and being a junior doctor is long hours and overtime, day and night shifts all rolled into one. We’d hardly see each other. And then I’d be working hard to get into a specialism, so you’d have to wait for me to finish that. I can’t leave you hanging on like this—it’s not fair.’
Each word had been like a scar on his heart. He’d loved Ellie so much! But he’d had to do it.
He couldn’t expect her to wait for him. They were going to be apart for five years! And they were both so young, with so much ahead of them. It had been wrong of him to think that they could do this.
Ellie had cried down the phone, begging and pleading with him to change his mind, and although it pained him to let her go, he’d known it was the right thing for her.
When the call had finally been over, he’d put his head in his hands and just felt exhausted. He’d loved Ellie—he really had. But she needed to live her life, too. Not waste it. And he’d wanted her to be happy. Short-term pain for long-term gain, and if at the end of five years he returned home and the spark was still there then maybe they could revisit what they both wanted.
That was what he’d genuinely thought.
But five years later he’d already met Jo. And she’d been a junior doctor, like him, and she’d understood the life and was going through the same thing, and they’d just clicked, and...
And now Ellie was back and he was in turmoil. His emotions were all over the place at just seeing her.
She still had that long, wavy black hair. It concealed her face now, as she concentrated on getting a butterfly needle into the crook of the baby’s arm.
‘Adjust the angle. A little lower. That’s it.’
The needle slid into position and she attached the vacutainers to get the required blood samples.
She had steady hands. That was good. And she’d found the vein first time, which was sometimes hard to do on babies because they were so small.
He watched her finish off and cover the needle entry point with a small wad of cotton wool that she taped into position. ‘Okay, get those sent off to Pathology as soon as you’ve filled in the patient details.’
Ellie gave him a brief smile and he watched her walk away to the desk. Why couldn’t he stop staring at her? Just having her there was remarkable, but he found himself wanting to be closer. To touch her. Make sure that she was real.
He’d made the right decision in leaving her years ago—he knew he had. There’d been no other choice.
That was years ago. Nothing you can do about it now except give her the best education you can.
She looked up, caught his eye, and he gave her a brief smile. Fate had thrown them back together again, and if that wasn’t some sort of sign that this was a chance for him to make amends then he didn’t know what was.
He’d set her free once. Now he would do so again. But this time when she left in a few weeks she would thank him.
