CHAPTER NINE

OKAY. IT WAS OFFICIAL.

Emilia hated Christmas.

For some reason that ability she had honed during her life to ignore or tolerate all the hype of the season had deserted her this year in the final run up to the big day.

There was a palpable pressure to keep such negativity private but Emilia knew she wasn’t alone in feeling like a Grinch. There were so many people out there for whom the inescapable message that this was the time for families to come together and show their love for each other by bestowing gifts and sharing a fabulous feast would rub salt into wounds that could never properly heal. People who had lost a loved one at this time of year, perhaps. At worst, a child or baby, which would make this all the more agonising with small faces radiating excitement as they counted down the sleeps. There were the people who were estranged from their families for whatever reasons. And then there were those who simply didn’t have a family.

People like Emilia.

So, yeah... Christmas was something to be endured, not enjoyed for her and it seemed to be getting more intense with every passing day. It was going to be Christmas Eve tomorrow so it had to be peaking any moment now but it couldn’t come soon enough for Emilia and she was beginning to rethink her usual strategy of trying to bury herself in her work. Maybe next year she would take a month off to go to a place that didn’t celebrate Christmas. Like Vietnam, perhaps. Or Qatar. Or Outer Mongolia? That way she wouldn’t be faced with constant reminders of what she would prefer to ignore. The resuscitation areas in the ER and the operating theatres might be mercifully free of decorations or music or flashing lights but the rest of Seattle General had become more and more festive as the countdown to Christmas ramped up.

Gifts were piling up under the huge trees in the atrium, ready to be distributed to inpatients in the children’s wards. Every second person was wearing something festive like the snowman earrings a young woman at the main reception desk had on today. Yesterday, Emilia had even seen an orderly dressed in an adult-sized elf suit, for heaven’s sake. There was tinsel everywhere, like the green, ECG rhythm strip that someone had cleverly stuck along the wall of the corridor she turned into. Her own patients who were admitted to the fracture clinic to have broken bones set or progress monitored and casts applied or changed were leaving with tartan bows or sprigs of plastic mistletoe attached to their casts and the only choice of colours at present were, of course, red or green.

Children were apparently embracing the season by wearing any favourite dress-up outfits. Like the small girl Emilia could see coming towards her now, dressed in a rather spectacular pink princess outfit, complete with a miniature crown and glittery shoes.

A princess costume?

Was this a cruel twist of fate, designed to mock the brief fantasy she had indulged in on the night of the gala, that she and Dom could be together for ever? That she could actually become a real princess?

It was almost the last straw. Emilia ducked into a staff toilet and turned on the cold water at the first basin. As she cupped her hands to catch some water, she caught sight of herself in the mirror and she was shocked to see her inner turmoil reflected so clearly in the tight lines of her face and the stormy blue of her eyes. The hurt was still there but there was something darker now, as well. Anger...

She hadn’t seen or heard from Dom in a week now. Not since they’d worked together in the initial management of Simon’s fractured pelvis—the patient she was on her way to see at the moment, in fact. And, okay, she knew he had a hell of a lot going on in his own life right now but she didn’t deserve to be treated like this. Pushing her out of his life was his prerogative and had, no doubt, been inevitable in the long run but surely he could see that, for her, this would be tapping into a lot of old stuff that had had such a negative impact on her life and still had the ability to do her head in. Being pushed out of families. Changing schools. Feeling unwanted and unloved. Dreaming that life could magically become perfect with a fresh start until the dream had been shattered too many times to bother dusting it off.

The splash of cold water helped disperse the fragments of unpleasant emotions. Hurt. Anger. Sadness. By the time Emilia reached for some paper towels to pat her face dry she could see the difference in her reflection. Nobody would guess that she had any kind of struggle going on. She was the calm, skilled, professional doctor she had fought so hard to become. Which meant that at least one of her dreams had come true. Clearly the most important one, given that it was a dream she could still believe in and one that would last for the rest of her life.

The smile that appeared slowly on the face of her patient when she entered Simon’s room to check on him was enough to brighten what was left of Emilia’s day.

‘You look like you’re feeling a whole lot better, Simon.’

He nodded. ‘I even got out of bed this morning for long enough to use the chair instead of a bedpan.’

‘How was that?’ Emilia picked up the patient file clipped to the end of Jason’s bed in the post-surgical orthopaedic ward.

‘A bit rough,’ Simon admitted.

‘Did you use your pump to give yourself some more pain medication?’

‘Yeah...’

‘I know it’s not easy.’ After a quick scan of the notes and vital signs being recorded on the file, Emilia put it down and perched one hip on the end of Simon’s bed. ‘Especially at this stage of your healing, given that you’ve got quite a bit of hardware with those plates and screws that are holding your pelvis together, but it is very important that you are moving. Lying still for too long can lead to complications and we don’t want you getting pneumonia or something.’

‘I just want to get home, Doc. It’s not going to be in time for Christmas, though, is it?’

‘Afraid not,’ she agreed. ‘We can’t let you go home until you can transfer yourself independently and have wheelchair mobility or are able to use crutches without weight bearing. That might take a couple of weeks but your physical therapist will be able to monitor your progress and make that call.’

‘Is it true what the nurse told me today? That I’m lucky to be alive and that what you did in the ER for me would have saved my life? He said if someone had moved me the wrong way, I could have bled to death in no time at all.’

‘You were certainly in a bad way.’ Emilia nodded. ‘But it wasn’t just me. There was a whole team of us looking after you that day.’

Including Dom... She wouldn’t have been able to do her own job as well as she had if it hadn’t been for the way the two of them could work as a team. Aside from anything more personal, she was going to miss having him leading Seattle General’s ER trauma team.

‘Can’t believe it’s been a week.’ Simon lay back against his pillows and closed his eyes. ‘I can only remember bits of it, so it feels like it’s only been a couple of days.’

‘Mmm...’ Emilia found a smile. She had had the opposite impression in that this last week had felt far, far longer. ‘Keep up the good work, Simon, and hopefully the rest of your stay with us will feel like it’s gone just as quickly.’

The route Emilia took having left the ward took her close to the ER and the pull became too strong. But it would only be professional courtesy to let Dom know about the progress of a case that had come through his resuscitation area, wouldn’t it? Especially when he always took an interest in following patients up.

His office was empty.

‘He’s not here,’ a nurse told her, walking past to get to the staffroom.

‘Do you know when he’ll be back?’

‘No idea. He’s taken some leave. I did hear a rumour that he had some family visiting? Or a close friend of the family in hospital, perhaps? He might not be back until after Christmas if that’s true. Did you need him for something urgent?’

‘No.’ Emilia shook her head. She didn’t need Dom for anything urgent. What she needed him for was more like something impossible.

It made sense that Dom would have taken leave to be by his father’s bedside and to support his sister. She knew that Roberto was being cared for in the most private area that this large hospital could provide and Dom would be being careful to keep his business equally private—especially if things weren’t going so well in the aftermath of his father’s brain surgery?

There was no reason for Emilia to stay here but, for a long moment, she stood in the doorway, thinking back to when she’d come into this office that day without knocking first, to see Dom with his head in his hands, looking shockingly broken. That had been the start of finding out just how little she knew about him, as a man rather than simply a rival. The start of new feelings that had, almost from the beginning, included huge empathy for what his future would hold, for the breakdown of his relationship with a father he clearly loved very much and also for how hard it was going to be for him to give up his beloved career.

Where had that empathy gone? It was pretty selfish to be indulging in feeling so hurt and angry given that such major areas of her own life weren’t hanging in the balance. She wasn’t in danger of losing a parent, having to protect a sibling or contemplating the responsibility of ruling a country. Dom was probably exhausted, she thought, both emotionally and physically. He probably didn’t have anything left that would allow him to face any complication that she might be representing in his life. The best thing Emilia could do for both of them was to get out of the way but knowing that Dom might be hurting and not being able to offer any comfort was enough to bring the prickle of tears that were never going to fall.

This was by no means the first time in her life that Emilia had needed to pull herself together and to sort out a messed-up head and bruised heart and, as she prepared to make her way home on this freezing winter evening, she realised that she already knew the best first step to deal with all of this. Mind you, it could be a bit more difficult to tap into that resource at this time of year, especially after the snowfalls of the last few days.

Emilia went online in her office to check the weather forecast for tomorrow and, while it would be cold enough for any snow lying around to be in no danger of melting, the forecast was for clear skies and to be calm enough to not present too much of an obstacle with the windchill factor. She clicked onto other websites after that, checking both road conditions around Seattle and the timetable for the ferries that crossed Puget Sound to Bainbridge Island or Southport.

A few minutes later, Emilia sat back in her chair, closed her eyes and breathed out a long sigh of relief.

She still had a spot of shopping to do on her way home but she now had a plan in place to get to the one space that was almost guaranteed to offer her the peace of mind she so desperately needed.

She could do this.

He couldn’t do this any longer.

Not for today. He should have gone home long ago for a shower and some sleep but Dom had lingered by his father’s bedside this evening. Something was different and his instincts as a physician were keeping him here. Watching every monitor. And yes...there were more blips than usual in the tracing of his father’s heart rate and rhythm. Missed beats and an acceleration here and there in the rates of both heart and breathing. His father’s temperature had risen a fraction too.

Was this the beginning of the end? A sign of an infection? Or was Roberto in so much pain he was aware of it even though he was still unconscious? Whatever it was, Dom wasn’t about to leave until he figured it out. Even as one hour bled into another as the first hours of Christmas Eve approached. He was exhausted to the point of barely functioning so, when he saw it, he thought it was simply wishful thinking. A figment of his imagination.

Until he saw it again.

Along with another, unsettling, disruption of the cardiac monitor, he saw a twitch of his father’s fingers as they curled and then relaxed again. Dom was holding his breath as he raised his head to look at his father’s face where he could see the flutter of his eyelids as they opened. For the longest moment, Roberto stared at his son without any sign of recognition and then his eyes drifted shut again.

Oddio... Dom closed his eyes, dipping his head against the sudden wave of pain that was threatening to overwhelm him. Was this the worst thing that could happen? That his father would regain consciousness but be so brain-damaged he wouldn’t even recognise his own son?

He called Max, who arrived in the private room with commendable swiftness and he stayed as Max performed a thorough neurological examination. Roberto might look as if he was still in a coma but he was responsive to painful stimuli and even talking to him could create subtle differences in his vital signs like heart rate and blood pressure.

‘He’s waking up,’ Max agreed when they discussed the results. ‘He’s slipped back into unconsciousness now but it’s still very good news. His LOC is a lot lighter and he could wake up more definitively at any time. I’ll stay in the hospital and come and look in every couple of hours. Unless you’d like me to stay?’

Dom shook his head. ‘I’d like to be the first person he sees when he wakes up.’

‘Of course.’ Max shook his hand. ‘Just page me if you’re worried about anything.’

Dom dozed on and off in the comfortable armchair beside the bed for an hour. And then another. He was getting a minimal amount of rest but it wasn’t real sleep—he was still aware and alert for any changes in the soft beeping from the monitors around the bed. And the sound of his father taking an uneven breath and letting it out in a sigh.

‘...Dom? You’re here...?’

Dom’s eyes flew open as he jerked his head up to find that Roberto’s eyes were also open. This time, he could see the recognition in them and relief flooded his heart so much it felt like it might burst.

‘Papa? Are you in pain? I’ll call Max...’

‘No... Don’t go, Dom...’

‘But I must contact Giada. She’s been so worried. We’ve...’ Dom had to clear his throat. ‘We’ve been waiting a while for you to wake up, you know?’

‘What day is it, son?’

‘Christmas Eve. Very early. It’s...’ Dom checked his watch. ‘Coming up to four a.m. now.’

Roberto blinked slowly, his head sinking back into his pillow. ‘Don’t disturb her, then,’ he said softly. ‘Not yet. Don’t disturb anyone. It’s you I need to talk to, Domenico. It’s why I came here. I... I’ve been asleep too long, haven’t I?’ He was frowning now as he looked up at Dom. ‘What happened?’

‘There was a car accident the day you arrived. You broke your leg and had a head injury.’

Roberto reached out to grip Dom’s hand. ‘Giada? Was she hurt?’

‘No. She’s fine. She went back home to look after things. She’s been back to see you, of course, but she’s in Isola Verde again now. She’s been very worried and we’ve been talking every day...but...you’re going to be fine, Papa. The surgery to remove your tumour went perfectly. We were just waiting for you to wake up...’ Dom’s voice trailed into silence and he had to blink back the tears that were filling his eyes.

Neither man said anything for a minute. And then another. Dom scanned every monitor but couldn’t see anything that was alarming so there was no need to call Max in. Roberto still needed to rest but Dom wasn’t going anywhere because this time, with just a father and son, was undeniably precious. He’d be here when Roberto woke up again. And...even if his father was falling asleep again now, this was an opportunity he couldn’t miss.

‘I love you, Papa... I’m sorry I’ve never told you that before...’

Roberto’s eyes opened slowly—eyes that were exactly the same dark shade as Dom’s—and he held Dom’s gaze.

‘That’s not your fault,’ he told his son. ‘It was mine. I never said it to you, did I? I was too hard on you. You and your sister. We lost your mother too early, I think, and... I didn’t handle it well. I’m sorry, Dom. That was why I came here early. To talk to you about...’ He closed his eyes again, as if too fatigued.

‘I know,’ Dom murmured. ‘You came to tell me that it’s time I did my duty. I should have stepped up long ago and let you have the abdication you deserve. I’m ready...’

But Roberto rolled his head slowly, from one side to the other, making a negative gesture even though it was clearly painful for him.

‘No... I came to tell you that, of course, I want you to succeed me but I will respect whatever choice you make. That I will still love you...’

Dom swallowed hard. He had a choice? Was his father offering him the chance to stay here and keep his career? To be with Emilia?

‘I’ve been dreaming,’ Roberto told him. ‘So much. Of you. I understand now why your career is so important to you. Why it’s so much of who you are... I respect that passion, my son. And your gift...’

A weight was falling off Dom’s shoulders. He didn’t think his father had been dreaming, however. At some level, had he been listening to and absorbing all those late-night conversations as he lay in that coma for week after week? Did he understand things that Dom had never thought he could even explain well enough?

It was enough to feel that the distance between them had evaporated. That there was a bond here like no other and it was one that Dom couldn’t turn his back on again, no matter what he was leaving behind.

‘I understand things now, too.’ He took his father’s hand in his own and then put his other hand over the top of it as well. ‘Someone...someone very special to me...has reminded me how lucky I am to have my family. To have a place that I belong and a chance to put things right. And yes... I’ve been able to do what I wanted to do so much. To be who I wanted to be for a long time. Longer than I deserved, perhaps. But I meant what I said, Papa. I’m ready to come home. I’m ready to accept my destiny. To rule Isola Verde and make you proud.’

‘I’ve always been proud of you, Domenico. And we have a wonderful new hospital too, you know. They would be so proud to have their King as their patron.’

This time, as Roberto closed his eyes, Dom knew it was time to let him rest properly. A normal sleep, thank goodness, and not a pathological unconsciousness. He needed to call Giada and to let Max know that his father was awake and alert and there didn’t seem to be any obvious deterioration in his mental faculties. He didn’t want to disturb his father by making the calls in here, however.

‘I’m going to go and let you sleep for a while, Papa.’ Dom pushed himself to his feet, stiff and sore after sitting for so long. ‘Max will be here soon to check on you again. It won’t be long before it’s a new day and there’s going to be a lot of people who will be so happy to know that you’re awake and on the road to a real recovery.’

Roberto gave a very slow nod, this time, but he didn’t open his eyes when he spoke.

‘This special person you talk of,’ he murmured. ‘Will she come home with you and be your Queen?’

‘I...don’t think that’s possible. She’s happy here. She’s like me, Papa. She cares about her work more than anything else.’

‘Are you sure?’ There was a frown line between the King’s eyes. ‘You have to be sure, Dom. It’s hard to do it alone. Believe me... I know...’

Was he sure?

Dom was sitting at the desk in his office some time later, his head in his hands as he fought off a weariness that was going to overwhelm him anytime now. There was no point in going home because he had made arrangements for an encrypted phone call that could maintain complete secrecy to happen between the hospital and the palace in Isola Verde which was timed for seven a.m., Seattle time. He’d already texted Giada to give her the wonderful news about their father but they couldn’t go public yet. Palace officials would be gathering for the conference call because there were many decisions and plans to be made as they prepared statements about what was happening with the royal family in order to make an announcement about the succession of the throne of Isola Verde.

Rubbing at eyes that felt full of grit, Dom remembered that he’d sat like this, in this office, once before, hadn’t he? When he’d been grappling with a similar sense of being overwhelmed. When Emilia had come in and he’d known that she’d seen past the protective shield he’d always had in place—especially with regard to her.

With a heartfelt sigh, Dom put his arms on his desk and lowered his head to rest his forehead on the cushion they provided. He’d learned to catnap as an intern and knew how valuable even a few minutes’ sleep could be when he had to keep functioning for a double shift. It would only take seconds to fall into a state where his body—and mind—could gather enough new strength to keep him going.

Those few seconds were enough, however.

Enough for Dom to realise that his father had spoken wise words. It would be so hard to cope with his new future alone and he didn’t want to. And...in spite of everything Emilia had told him, he wasn’t at all sure that she really believed that she was happier facing life alone. She was too good at putting on a brave face, wasn’t she? Of hiding how she really felt?

Maybe he was wrong and the career and home Emilia had struggled to win was more important than anything else in her life but the very least she deserved was to know that someone understood and respected that. That she had choices, if she wanted them.

And that she was loved this much...