ROMAN GLANCED THROUGH the café window, his throat constricted with fear. The place was busy with lunchtime diners, but, attuned to Sadie as he was, he spotted her easily at a table near the back, sitting with a woman who was obviously her identical twin, a buggy between them, facing away so there was no sign of Milly.
He watched Sadie chat to her sister for a few minutes, her stare falling to her phone often. She was clearly waiting for him, apprehensive that he might change his mind about meeting his daughter.
Compassion for Sadie surged through his chest. This situation wasn’t easy for either of them. Not only had she felt forced to keep her secret, when their baby must have brought her so much joy, given her fertility issues, but she was also giving him time, because she knew about his past and understood how he must be feeling...torn.
Entranced and curious, fearful and desolate all at once.
Drawn to meet his daughter, as he’d been almost from the first instant he’d known of her existence, Roman entered the café. The minute Sadie had put the idea of today’s introduction in his head, he’d struggled to think about anything else. Meeting Milly would of course jeopardise the emotional status quo he’d inhabited since he’d lost Karolina and Miko. But it was too late.
He couldn’t pretend that his baby didn’t exist, and he could no longer stay away. He needed to see her, just once. Then he could make sense of his conflicted thoughts, make a plan, move forward from the numb void he’d inhabited these past few days.
Roman ordered tea he likely wouldn’t be able to drink and headed for Sadie’s table.
The two women looked up.
‘Grace, this is Roman Ježek,’ Sadie said, her voice wary but her eyes alight with a spark of excitement he’d come to depend upon whenever their eyes met. ‘Grace is my sister, obviously. The one I told you about,’ she added for Roman.
‘Hello,’ Roman said, smiling at the woman, so much like Sadie, who cared for their daughter while her parents worked.
‘Nice to meet you.’ Grace stood, nudging the buggy in Sadie’s direction and reaching for her bag. ‘I’ll leave you two alone. I...um...need to make a phone call.’
Grace discreetly melted away.
Roman stared at the hood of the buggy, the feeling that he’d forgotten to do something vital clawing at his insides. Pressure built in his head. He’d imagined this moment a million times since Sadie had informed him of his daughter’s existence, but now that it was here, now that he was about to see his baby in the flesh, he feared his legs would buckle.
‘Why don’t you sit down?’ Sadie suggested, attuned somehow to his inner turmoil.
Roman folded himself robotically into the chair, feeling brittle, as one false move would shatter him into a million mismatched shards.
Sadie reached across the table and took his hand. He clung tight.
‘Do you want to see her?’ Sadie asked, her smile soft with sympathy and understanding.
‘Yes,’ he said, a catch to his voice that threatened to reveal the cascade of conflicted emotions pouring through him.
Fear because he’d spent the past four long years shoring up his emotions to protect himself from further pain, and might not be able to open himself up once more. Longing to see his child so intense, he had to curl his hands into fists to stop himself from whirling the buggy around. And guilt. Not only because, as broken as he was, he couldn’t be the kind of father that his baby deserved, but also because welcoming a new baby into his heart felt like a betrayal of Miko, somehow.
As if in knowing his daughter, he might forget his son.
‘She fell asleep after I fed her,’ Sadie explained as she wheeled the buggy to face him so the baby came into view.
Time stopped.
She slept with her fists curled beside her face, her delicate eyelashes crescents on her cherubic cheeks.
Ever since Sadie had told him about Milly, Roman had been terrified to make another human connection, one he knew from tragic experience would have the power to tear him apart emotionally. Except fate had other ideas, taking out of his hands his decision to never again put himself in such a vulnerable position as loving another human being. The universe had given them Milly.
‘Isn’t she beautiful?’ Sadie said, her eyes on the baby, her expression brimming with maternal love that flooded his body with relief.
He remembered Karolina looking at Miko that way.
Roman nodded, mutely, unable to take his burning eyes off his tiny daughter, who looked just like Miko at the same age—same wispy soft dark hair, same cute little nose, same dimpled chin.
‘She looks like her brother,’ he choked out, his chest lanced with fresh grief as he recalled his beloved son at Milly’s age. Miko would have been ten now, a perfect big brother, a fun and responsible role model. ‘But she also looks like you.’
When he met Sadie’s stare, gratitude and confusion fighting for control of his pulse, there were tears in her beautiful eyes. He cupped her cheek, wiping one away with his thumb.
He needed to stop touching Sadie, his feelings for her only complicating an already fraught situation. But touching her made him feel better, reminded him of their growing emotional connection before the baby bombshell. Reminded him that, even in pain as they’d both been the night they met, their connection had produced something unique and magical.
‘I’m sorry, Roman,’ she said, blinking. ‘If this is too much, that’s fine, honestly. I can’t imagine what you must be feeling, but I do understand how hard this is for you.’
Roman swallowed, touched by Sadie’s maturity and empathy. She could have reacted so differently.
‘But I want you to know that, for me...’ she put her hand on her chest, over her heart ‘... Milly is everything. She’s a miracle I never thought I would have the chance to experience. She’s deeply, deeply loved and always will be.’
She was letting him know that he was free of parental responsibility, if he wanted to continue his rolling-stone lifestyle. Except her impassioned assurances left him restless once more. He still didn’t know what he wanted, but none of the scenarios he’d imagined these past few days felt right.
‘I want to provide for Milly, financially,’ he said, clearing his tight throat. He’d reached that decision almost immediately, his sense of responsibility the one certainty that came easily and painlessly.
Sadie frowned, as if the idea had never once occurred to her. ‘That isn’t necessary. As you know, I have a secure job, so she will want for nothing.’
Roman compressed his mouth, picking up on Sadie’s slightly defensive tone of voice. ‘It’s necessary to me to share the responsibility. We made her together, after all.’
Walking away without providing for the daughter they’d made had never once crossed his mind.
‘Okay...’ Sadie nodded warily. ‘If you want.’
There was that nebulous word again, want.
‘Life isn’t always about having what you want, is it?’ he said, glancing at the baby. They both understood that. But financial support was the one practical thing he could do immediately, without ripping open the scabs on his battle-scarred heart.
Roman turned over his phone, keeping an eye on the time. The screen lit up and Sadie saw the background image.
‘Is that Miko?’ she asked, her curiosity natural after the things they’d shared.
Roman nodded, despite the stab of pain he always experienced on seeing his favourite photo of Karolina and Miko, unlocking his phone and passing it over.
‘Karolina had just tickled Miko when I captured that shot,’ he said, watching Sadie stare at the phone, her eyes wide, a soft smile playing on her lips. Of course he was biased, but his son’s laughter and joy would surely make anyone smile.
‘He looked like a mini version of you,’ she whispered in awe, ‘but with his mother’s fair hair.’
‘It was dark when he was a baby, just like Milly.’ Roman glanced once more at his sleeping daughter, emotions slamming into him.
Could he do this again? Be the kind of father this tiny innocent girl deserved? What if he tried and failed, let her down the way he’d failed Miko? But could he seriously walk away from his daughter, when he was already in love with her, just knowing that she existed?
Sadie handed back the phone and he checked the time with a wince.
‘I need to go. I’m due in clinic.’
‘Of course. Will you...be okay?’
Roman nodded automatically, still too awed by the turn of events and overwhelmed by his conflicted feelings to describe himself as okay. Would he ever be okay again now that there was Milly? Parenthood brought responsibility. Fears for a child’s safety and well-being.
He pocketed his phone, the image of Miko’s smile fresh in his mind. Of course the joys of being a parent, the uncontrollable love, outweighed the fears and doubts tenfold.
‘I’ll call you,’ he said, standing and resting his hand on Sadie’s shoulder. ‘I know we need to talk, but I’m on call tonight.’
He wished he could offer some sort of reassurance beyond financial aid.
Sadie nodded, squeezed his fingers. ‘When you’re ready, I’ll be here.’
The trouble was, his greatest fear of all was, that he might never be ready to be the kind of father that Milly deserved. He’d been there once before and a big part of him believed that he’d somehow failed his son, Miko.
He was a doctor, the boy’s father. He should have been there for him in his moment of greatest need. It was irrational, but that didn’t make it less visceral or devastating. Until he’d reconciled that part of his grief, until he had some clarity on the correct course, he wouldn’t fail anyone else.
The following evening, Sadie was about to leave the emergency department after admitting her final patient of the day, a seven-year-old with suspected appendicitis, when an A and E nurse called her to assess a newly arrived emergency.
‘Nine-month-old with possible foreign body ingestion in Resus,’ the nurse said, handing Sadie the ambulance summary.
Sadie hurried into the resuscitation room, where the most serious cases presenting to the emergency department were assessed. Choking was one of the hazards designed to terrify all parents, so Sadie’s heart went out to the concerned pair as she introduced herself.
Sam, the baby, was grizzling and drooling, a distinct high-pitched sound, known as stridor, coming from his throat on every inhaled breath.
‘I think there may be an object stuck in Sam’s throat,’ she explained after taking a brief history from the parents, who hadn’t seen the baby swallow anything.
Sadie reached for her stethoscope and listened to the boy’s lungs and looked inside his mouth.
‘It could be lodged either at the top of his trachea or his oesophagus, the tube to his stomach.’ She kept her voice even, while urgency pounded through her blood.
‘Most swallowed objects pass through the gut without intervention,’ she continued, ‘but I don’t think this one is going to pass on its own. It’s stuck there, and is affecting Sam’s breathing. So I’m going to run some tests.’
While the worried parents tried to soothe Sam, Sadie ordered an urgent chest X-ray and paged the on-call surgical registrar. If the object wasn’t removed quickly, it could cause tissue damage and, in return, scarring, leaving baby Sam with lifelong complications.
‘I’m going to ask my surgical colleagues to take a look at Sam,’ she explained to the parents, her mind turning to Milly, who was only a few months younger than this baby. ‘It may be that he requires a small procedure under sedation to look into the throat and remove whatever is lodged there.’
Sam’s parents appeared understandably horrified. Sadie left them with the ED nurse, who was trying with infinite patience to encourage Sam to wear an oxygen nasal cannula.
She was examining the chest X-ray when Roman walked in.
‘What have we got?’ he asked, shooting her that smile that shot her pulse through the roof.
He paused beside her, peering over her shoulder at the screen, the hint of his cologne tickling her senses. Unfair memories bombarded her: the scent of his skin, the delirious passion of his kisses, the feel of his body moving inside hers.
Her entire body reacted with goosebumps; she was so pleased to see him.
‘Ah, foreign object?’ he said, as if completely unmoved by Sadie’s proximity, whereas she was engulfed in flames at his casual closeness. ‘Some sort of plastic block, I’d guess.’
‘That’s what I was thinking,’ she agreed, leaning away for self-preservation. ‘Shouldn’t you have left by now? You were on call last night.’
She noted the fatigue around his eyes, the dishevelled mop of his hair, his crumpled scrubs. Was he hiding out from his personal life at work? He’d once admitted workaholic tendencies. But what did that mean for Milly and their...situation? Perhaps he hadn’t given it any thought.
‘I was about to head out,’ he said, ‘but my registrar is busy, so I said I’d come down and see what’s going on.’ He pinned her with his eye contact. ‘Thanks for caring.’
‘Any time,’ Sadie said, flustered because there seemed to be a new resolve about him tonight, and it was crazy sexy.
‘Come on. Let’s sort out this baby.’ Without further discussion, he ducked through the curtains where Sam and his parents sat, with Sadie on his heels.
The baby really didn’t want to wear the nasal oxygen cannula, constantly grabbing at his face to pull it away. He took one look at Roman, the newest arrival in a long line of scary strangers, and burst into pitiful tears.
Taking the slight in his stride, Roman introduced himself to Sam’s concerned parents. ‘My name is Dr Ježek. Dr Barnes has correctly identified a foreign object stuck in Sam’s throat.’
Without missing a beat, he handed a fractious Sam his phone and the baby instantly calmed, distracted by the lit-up screen.
Sadie sighed with longing. He was so good at his job. He was such a natural with kids and on the parents’ wavelength. For what must have been the thousandth time since they’d reconnected, she imagined what kind of father he would make to their baby girl, if only he could overcome his grief.
But he might never be ready for more and she would have to be okay with that.
‘We need to get whatever it is out before it can cause any damage, okay?’ Roman asked with the kind of calm assurance that was instantly soothing.
The parents nodded in unison.
Glancing at Sadie to include her in the process, he went on. ‘We’ll just give Sam a light sedation. Through here.’ He indicated the butterfly IV Sadie had already inserted into the baby’s arm. ‘Dr Barnes and I will then place an endoscope, a small telescope-like tube, into Sam’s throat and, fingers crossed, we can grab hold of whatever it is and pull it out. Any questions?’
The couple shook their heads, appearing awed and relieved by Roman’s command of the situation.
Sadie exhaled, trying to settle the admiring flutter in her chest. The way he referenced Sadie, including her in the decision-making process, put them once more on the same team.
While Roman asked Sam’s dad to sign the consent for the procedure, Sadie injected the IV with a mild dose of sedative.
‘You’re welcome to stay with Sam if you want,’ Sadie said to the grown-ups as the baby lolled drowsily in his father’s arms, ‘but he’ll be asleep and won’t really know if you’re here. You might find the procedure distressing to watch, so if you prefer to wait in the family room, one of us will come and get you as soon as it’s over.’
Agreeing, they laid Sam on the bed, where the nurse adjusted his nasal oxygen cannula and attached a pulse oximeter to monitor his blood oxygen saturations.
With the parents departed, Roman stepped close and cast Sadie a discreet look. ‘Any psychosocial concerns?’ he asked, pulling on gloves and preparing the endoscope.
It was a sad fact of the job, but paediatricians and those working with children had to constantly be aware of neglect or non-accidental injury in the children they treated.
Sadie shook her head. ‘He has an older brother,’ she said, donning her own gloves. ‘Sam most likely got hold of a stray toy left on the floor.’
For a moment they stared at each other, silently communicating understanding and compassion because they too were parents. Or perhaps that was just in Sadie’s head. Wishful thinking.
‘Okay. Let’s do this,’ he said, lightly touching Sadie’s arm and directing her to stand at his side so they could both see the screen where the digital images from the endoscope would be displayed.
With a mouthpiece inserted, Roman passed the flexible tube into Sam’s throat, while Sadie closely monitored the baby’s breathing.
‘There it is,’ Roman said, indicating the image on the screen, relief in the glance he flicked Sadie. ‘Just at the top of the oesophagus.’
‘You’re right. It is a plastic block.’
‘Right, let’s test my fishing skills,’ Roman said, extending the tiny forceps at the end of the endoscope to grasp hold of the piece of plastic.
It took several attempts, but when Roman managed to snare the object, Sadie exhaled in relief.
‘I know,’ he said, flicking her a conspiratorial smile that made her feel as if she’d known him for years, not weeks. ‘For a minute there I thought I might need to take this little guy to Theatre. No one wants that.’
With the object retrieved and the endoscope withdrawn, Roman peeled off his gloves and addressed one of the nurses. ‘Can you please let Mum and Dad know that everything went smoothly? We’ll just admit Sam for observation tonight.’
He looked down at the peacefully sleeping baby, who was breathing easy now that the obstruction had been removed.
Sadie watched in wonder as Roman reached out and gently stroked the baby’s head, murmuring something in Czech.
Sadie froze, mesmerised by the telling gesture. Roman might be a busy surgeon, a breed known for their arrogance, but he truly cared about his patients and their families.
He looked up and their eyes locked.
Sadie’s heartbeat whooshed in her ears. He was so competent and compelling. So intelligent and supportive. Every time they worked together she felt their connection growing stronger. At the hospital, they trusted each other and there was a big part of Sadie that craved the same connection in their personal lives, where nothing was certain.
He eyed her sheepishly. ‘What?’ he asked, tossing his balled-up gloves in the nearby bin.
‘Nothing,’ Sadie said, fighting the urge to fling herself into his arms and tell him how wonderful he was, beg him to want her with the same all-encompassing desire.
‘Are you heading home now?’ he asked as they finished up the paperwork on Sam’s admission. ‘I hoped we could talk.’
His stare carried that vulnerability she wanted to soothe away.
‘Yes. I’m done for the day.’ Nervous tension coiled in Sadie’s belly as they left the emergency department side by side. She didn’t want to talk. She wanted to quiet all the doubts in her head with the mind-numbing passion they shared.
‘You won’t be surprised to hear that I’ve been thinking,’ he started, holding open a door for Sadie to pass through as they headed for the staff locker rooms. ‘And I’ve decided that I need to try and be a part of Milly’s life.’
Sadie’s step faltered, her heart leaping in her chest as if she’d just walked into a brick wall. ‘Roman, you don’t have to rush into any decisions. There’s absolutely no pressure from my end.’
It was only yesterday that he’d met Milly in person. Why had he changed his mind so quickly when, in the café, he’d been so hesitant and cautious?
‘I know there’s no pressure from you,’ he said, scanning his security pass to unlock the doors to the changing rooms, ‘but this comes from in here.’ He pressed his balled-up hand to the centre of his chest, his voice impassioned.
The doors closed behind them, he stepped close and gripped her arms above the elbows. ‘I see babies every day at work, even in passing around the hospital, and all I can do is think about my baby, Milly.’
His stare searched Sadie’s, imploring. ‘I’m walking around feeling like something’s not right, as if I’ve left the oven on at home or forgotten to take my passport to the airport, or I’m missing a surgical clamp in Theatre and the patient is already back on the ward.’
Sadie swallowed, empathy an ache in her chest. ‘I can understand that.’
Of course she could. If the situation were reversed, if she had a daughter she’d never met, she wouldn’t be able to stay away for one day. But their situations were different. For Roman, Milly’s existence also represented painful reminders.
Except his sudden change of heart left fear trickling through her veins.
‘Take Sam, for example,’ he rushed on. ‘Back there, I couldn’t stop imagining how I’d feel if it was Milly who needed an operation or emergency treatment. You must sometimes feel that too?’
She nodded, mutely, because she’d been thinking exactly that. But Roman had been through the worst thing any parent could experience. He might never be ready to be fully open. She didn’t want hasty promises she’d struggle to trust.
As if reading her mind, he continued. ‘I’m still not making any big promises,’ he said with heart-rending sincerity, ‘but the past few days have shown me that I need to meet my daughter properly, to try and get to know her, and somehow make up for the time I’ve already missed.’
As if he sensed the chills of doubt that crept up Sadie’s spine, he reached for her hand, his touch adding to her confusion. ‘What do you think?’
Sadie swallowed the lump of fear in her throat. How could she deny him anything when she agreed? When she felt closer to him with each passing day? When Milly deserved a father?
Except she’d been so wrong about Mark that she still struggled to trust her instincts.
She hated future-gazing and she didn’t want to start now. But surely if they were careful, if she could keep a lid on her desires for him, they could take things slowly and apply the same trust to their personal lives as they practised at work.
Desperately trying to ignore the flicker of excitement in his eyes, she brought her hands up and gripped his arms. ‘I think we should take things slowly.’
She would never keep Roman from his daughter, but this about-face left her...unsettled. ‘After all, you’re going to Ireland in a couple of weeks.’
A small frown pinched his brows.
But it was a good reminder for them both to proceed with caution. No matter how close she felt towards him, he was still leaving London. Trusting him with the most precious thing in her world, Milly, meant trusting her instincts and taking a giant leap of faith, something that had gone badly for her in the past.
‘Of course, I want you and Milly to know each other,’ Sadie said, taking that leap for her daughter’s sake. And for Roman. ‘So if you’re sure you’re ready...’
Tugging her into his arms, Roman kissed the top of her head. ‘Thank you. I agree; we’ll take it one day at a time.’
Sadie nodded against his chest as he continued to hold her, turned on by his touch, conflicted by his gratitude and restraint. Her head felt full of cotton wool, the longing for it to work warring with her maternal protective urges for her darling baby.
And something darker—the demands of her own tangled needs.
But with so much else going on, that would have to be the last thing on her mind.
‘That being said—’ he pulled back, his stare vulnerable ‘—how would you feel about an outing tomorrow, just the three of us? Perhaps we could take Milly to the zoo?’
He looked so hopeful, so exposed, Sadie nodded, her smile feeble. ‘That sounds nice.’
His delighted expression burned Sadie’s eyes. How could she deny him when she’d always hoped that he’d want to be a part of Milly’s life? But how would she spend time with him away from work and keep him at arm’s length, emotionally and physically, so she could follow her own edict and take things one day at a time?