TWO DAYS LATER, a distracted Sadie headed to the paediatric multidisciplinary meeting, or MDM: a once-weekly team discussion where professionals from different specialities reviewed patients’ diagnoses, care and treatment options.
As she sneaked quietly into the room where the MDM was already under way her heart raced at the possibility that Roman might be there. She hadn’t seen him since that fateful night they’d kissed and she’d told him about Milly. Guilt for the way it had eventually unfolded had stopped her from reaching out to him; he obviously needed space to think.
The room was in darkness while a radiologist explained the MRI scan findings displayed on a large projector screen. Sadie took a seat near the back and scanned the occupied seats for a glimpse of Roman.
He sat in the front row, next to the two paediatric oncologists, his handsome profile highlighted by the glow from the screen. Her heart rate accelerated with longing; they’d been growing so close. Now everything was uncertain.
Sadie sat still, trying not to draw attention to herself.
Part of her had been relieved by his absence on the ward these past two days. If he’d appeared while Sadie was there, she might have had to face his understandable hurt that she’d kept her news a secret, or, worse, witness again his pain and confusion. It had been hard enough to watch the first time around, when all that lovely desire following their kiss had been slashed and shredded by guilt.
Who could blame him for his hesitance to embrace Milly? Sadie had given him a lot to process and he was still grieving for his family. But the impatience to know where she and Milly stood, one way or another, was a constant itch under her skin.
In allowing him space to work through the knowledge that he was once more a father, Sadie had essentially been shut out, forced to ponder the future and fill in the blanks, to contemplate the dreaded what ifs.
What if, because of his past loss, he was incapable of loving Milly? What if he was too broken to even welcome their baby into his life? What if, when he left London, she never saw him again and their darling and innocent daughter grew up never knowing her intelligent and caring father?
While she would understand his reasons, his rejection of their precious daughter would still be devastating.
Sadie had never considered herself a coward, but right now, she wasn’t certain which was worse: knowing those answers or her current state of ignorance.
Sick to her stomach with fear and longing, Sadie startled as the room lights came on while, around her, the case discussion continued.
‘So we’re looking at a stage two nephroblastoma,’ Roman said, his deep and confident voice jangling Sadie’s nerves. ‘Would you want to give neoadjuvant chemo in this case?’ he asked the medical oncologist at his side. ‘Or is everyone happy for me to go in and operate?’
How could he sound so...normal, when Sadie felt as though she’d been sleep-walking through her life?
With his question hanging in the air, he cast his eyes around the room for corroboration from the assembled team.
His stare landed on Sadie.
She froze, her breath catching in her throat as their eyes locked for a split second before he turned away to resume the discussion.
Sadie swallowed, her mouth dry. How could she still want him so violently when they had monumental issues to discuss and try to overcome? How could she crave his touch, his kiss, the way he’d opened up to her emotionally, when he’d so obviously withdrawn to lick his wounds?
Fear was her constant companion. Fear that she’d hurt Roman, irreparably. That she’d ruined any chance of them being a parenting team. That he’d want nothing to do with her, or beloved Milly.
With a treatment plan in place for Roman’s nephroblastoma patient, the discussion continued to other cases on the list. Sadie tried her best to focus on the clinical deliberation taking place, but her gaze returned to the back of Roman’s head, time and again, as if willing him to be okay, willing him to let her back in.
As the meeting wrapped up, Sadie stood and made a beeline for the exit, her stomach on the floor with defeat. How could she have forgotten her own resolve to live for the moment? She and Milly were fine as they were. They’d be fine whatever Roman decided. Milly’s happiness and stability were all that truly mattered.
‘Dr Barnes, a word, please.’ Roman’s voice halted her in her tracks.
Sadie paused, ducking into in a doorway to avoid the flow of foot traffic leaving the MDM, her nerves now completely shredded.
Today, Roman was wearing a navy-blue suit, as if deliberately taunting her with his out-of-reach hotness. Her stare caressed the crisp tailoring moulded to his broad shoulders and trim waist. The shirt and tie gave him a sophisticated look that almost buckled Sadie’s knees. It wasn’t fair that he looked so good.
Swallowing the lump of lust and trepidation in her throat, she searched his stare for some clue of how he was feeling on the inside, spying fatigue around his eyes.
‘Thanks for waiting,’ he said, his body stiff with formality, as if they were complete strangers. ‘How are you?’
He slung his hands in his trouser pockets and Sadie withered a little, desperate for his touch, desperate to know things between them would be okay, desperate for the emotional closeness they’d shared when he’d been comfortable enough in her to confide his deepest pain.
She genuinely cared that he might be suffering.
‘I’m fine, Dr Ježek. How are you?’ Sadie stepped deeper into the alcove, aware that the MDM room was still emptying of their colleagues, not the optimal venue for a private conversation.
How could they act so...distant when they’d made a Valentine’s Day baby together? The last time they’d worked together, they’d all but ripped off each other’s clothes and had sex on the desk. No matter what else was going on between them, for Sadie, the attraction was as strong as ever.
Except she had no idea how he was feeling.
Glancing over his shoulder to ensure they were alone, Roman stepped closer. Catching her totally unawares, he reached for her hand. ‘Listen, I wanted to apologise.’
His voice was low, husky with emotion.
‘Please, you haven’t done anything wrong. There’s no need to apologise.’ Excited and confused by his touch, Sadie used all her strength to slip her hand from his.
There was no point indulging her attraction when their connection was now so fragile. Emotionally, things between them seemed to have gone a few steps backwards. Now that he was close, she saw the turmoil in his eyes, the dark smudges beneath as if he hadn’t been sleeping.
Her news had clearly left him tormented.
The lump returned to her throat, her heart aching for this honourable but wounded man, her spirit crushed for darling, innocent Milly.
‘There is,’ he said, his stare stony as if he was holding his emotions in check. ‘Last time we spoke I was...overwhelmed. I reacted badly.’
He held her stare, his hand reaching for hers again before he thought better of it and dropped his arm to his side. ‘I came across as accusing, and that wasn’t my intention.’
‘I understood. It was a shock for you.’ Compassion rose up in Sadie like a surging wave. Of course he’d be overwhelmed. She’d had nine months to come to terms with the fact that they’d made a baby.
She couldn’t be angry with him; it might be easier if she could.
‘I feel horribly guilty about that night, if it’s any consolation. Kissing you at work,’ she whispered, ‘and then dropping that bombshell...’
She should have found a way to tell him sooner, somewhere private.
His stare softened, the ghost of his playful smile tugging his lips. ‘There’s no need to feel guilty.’ A shrug, a sparkle in his eyes. ‘And I too must hold my hand up and take responsibility for the kiss.’ He glanced at her mouth, sending sparks along her nerves. ‘Not my finest decision, so, again, I apologise.’
Flames engulfed Sadie’s body, even as she agonised over his meaning. Did he regret kissing her? Or just regret kissing her at work? But what did it matter when they had bigger issues to resolve, when he seemed a million miles away?
Peering over his shoulder, confirming that they were still alone, Sadie braved another question. ‘I don’t want to rush you—I’ve been giving you breathing space—but have you had any thoughts on what you want to do?’
She held her breath, watched doubt flit over his expression, her stomach swooping with disappointment. She could absolutely raise Milly alone. But she wanted Milly and Roman to have a relationship, as long as it was a mutually positive thing.
He sighed, glancing up at the ceiling, as if the weight of the world rested on his shoulders, telling Sadie everything she needed to know.
‘I’ve had too many thoughts to count.’ He faced her, his stare sincere. ‘This news has brought up a lot of feelings I thought I’d already dealt with. I’m questioning everything. I wish I could give you answers, but you might need to give me a little more time. Is that okay?’
Sadie swallowed, crushed anew for unsuspecting Milly and heartsore for broken Roman. ‘Of course. I respect your honesty and I understand.’
It was true. He’d been through so much loss. Given his circumstances, it would be hard for Sadie to trust less considered or profuse reactions. If he couldn’t commit to knowing his daughter, it might be better for them never to meet.
‘I’m grateful, actually,’ she said, ‘that you aren’t rushing to make promises that you might not be ready to keep.’
Except she couldn’t help the tiny flicker of hope that one day he would embrace their beautiful daughter into his life.
Sensing her disappointment, he reached for her hand once more, his gaze pleading, tearing her heart to shreds. ‘I wish it were just simple joy that I was feeling. Ordinarily, that’s what your news would deserve. It’s what I long to feel.’
Sadie nodded, too choked to speak, too comforted by his touch. She wished she could throw her arms around him.
‘But I’m all over the place, Sadie. My grief has resurfaced. I don’t know which way is up. And until I’ve worked through some of these feelings, it wouldn’t be fair to you or to Milly to rush into anything.’
Sadie blinked up at him, her eyes smarting as she dragged in a deep breath for courage. He was so wonderful, so different from her ex. ‘You’re right, and I appreciate that, believe me.’
Roman’s cautious but honest response was way better than the kind of grand declaration Mark would have made but then failed to deliver upon. This way, Sadie was no worse off for having told Roman about Milly, her and the baby’s day-to-day routine unchanged.
Except waiting, seeing him at work, wanting him despite it all, was its own brand of torture.
‘Where is she now?’ he asked on a whisper, his stare stormy with repressed emotions. ‘What happens to Milly while you’re at work?’
Even while he processed the life-changing news while also dealing with renewed grief, he was thinking about the daughter they’d made.
Her heart lurched, reaching for him. ‘She’s at home, with my sister. Grace is a trained nanny. There’s no one I trust more.’
She wanted him to know that his daughter was safe and cared for, even if he wasn’t, and might never be, ready to be her father.
He nodded, appeased, but his jaw clenched as if he was holding back further questions.
‘Would you like to see a picture of her?’ Sadie asked, emboldened by the fact that he clearly cared, but braced for his answer. ‘It’s okay if you want to say no.’
She didn’t want to rush him, but he was hurting, not indifferent.
How awful that, for Roman, Sadie’s miracle gift, her precious adored baby, brought such heart-rending conflict of emotion. On the one hand, he was understandably curious and on the other, overwhelmed by grief and doubt.
He nodded, visibly swallowing as if he couldn’t trust himself to speak.
Her stomach twisting with apprehension, Sadie took her phone from her pocket and brought up a recent baby photo: Milly asleep like an angel, her tiny fingers curled into a chubby fist.
Roman took the device, his hand trembling and his stare haunted.
She’d never seen him uncertain of anything.
His eyes scoured the image, one hand covering his mouth as if to hold in a primal sound. Of anguish or joy or both, Sadie couldn’t tell.
‘You can’t see from that photo,’ she said, her own voice scratchy with empathy and grief for her dreams for Milly, ‘but she has your eyes. As soon as she was born, she looked up at me and I recognised them.’
‘Just like Miko,’ he whispered, his tortured stare glued to the phone.
Sadie’s pulse pounded in her temples, hope blooming; surely his reaction to the sight of his daughter was promising?
Just then, Sadie’s phone rang, its piercing trill breaking the moment of strange and stilted intimacy.
Roman handed the device back and scrubbed a hand over his haggard face.
Sadie spoke to the nurse from Sunshine Ward, glancing Roman’s way with concern when she heard the news.
‘It’s Josh,’ she said, work temporarily resetting her priorities. ‘He’s gone off. Saturations dropping. Tachypnoea. Cyanosis. I need to go.’
Milly and Roman’s relationship would have to wait.
‘I’ll come with you.’
They started running, side by side, making it to the ward within minutes. When they arrived at his bedside, Josh was breathing rapidly, his lips blue despite the oxygen mask covering his nose and mouth.
Sadie placed her stethoscope in her ears and listened to the boy’s chest while Roman checked the latest chest X-ray and blood test results and spoke to Josh’s nurse.
‘Reduced breath sounds on the right,’ Sadie informed Roman, who placed his hand on the boy’s chest, before listening for breath sounds with his own stethoscope.
‘He has subcutaneous emphysema,’ he said, inviting Sadie to palpate Josh’s chest, their eyes meeting in the kind of silent communication that had become second nature.
Pneumothorax was a complication of pneumonia, and in Josh’s case it seemed that the air was leaking, not only into his chest cavity, causing a partial collapse of the lung, but it was also leaking into the skin and subcutaneous tissues over his ribs.
Was Roman, like her, thinking about Miko? But for a cruel twist of fate, Roman’s son could have ended up in Josh’s position, surviving the car crash, hospitalised with complications. But, of course, Roman’s son was likely never far from his thoughts. He was probably acutely aware of the parallels.
‘Let’s wheel Josh into the treatment room,’ Roman said, telling Sadie that he intended to stick around and help out. ‘We need a portable chest X-ray asap, please,’ he added to Sammy, who’d appeared to assess the commotion.
The treatment for pneumothorax was a chest drain. Sadie had done the urgent procedure many times. While Josh’s parents were called for their verbal consent, the radiographer arrived to take the chest X-ray that would confirm their diagnosis.
Working with their hunch, Roman and Sadie prepared the equipment they’d need in order to insert a chest drain to alleviate Josh’s symptoms.
‘You insert the drain, I’ll assist,’ Roman said, his concern for their patient evident.
‘Thank you,’ Sadie said, grateful for his ongoing professional support. They stared at each other for a second, as if aware of the other’s thoughts.
They might not have the future all figured out—that was how Sadie preferred it—but when it came to their work, they could set their personal issues aside. At the hospital, they had the one thing that mattered: trust.
Roman flashed her a sad but reassuring smile and handed her some gloves.
The digital X-ray confirmed their diagnosis of pneumothorax. While Roman administered a light intravenous sedative to keep Josh calm through the minimally invasive procedure, Sadie swabbed Josh’s skin and injected local anaesthetic between his ribs.
Sadie glanced at Roman for the all-clear to proceed.
‘Slow and steady,’ he said, giving her a nod of encouragement that she lapped up. He was senior, a surgeon. He could have easily commandeered the situation and taken over the procedure or walked off the ward and left her to it. But by staying to assist, he’d shown Sadie that he trusted her to care for their patient.
She couldn’t ask for more.
With the procedure complete, the chest drain sited to suck escaped air from the chest cavity so the lung could reinflate, Roman and Sadie left a sleepy Josh to the care of his nurse and his parents.
‘You did well,’ Roman said as they washed their hands before heading to the ward office where Sadie would type up the incident in Josh’s hospital notes.
‘Thanks for your help—I’ve never done it with a surgeon before.’ Realising what she’d said, she covered her face in her hands. ‘Sorry. That came out wrong.’
But her faux pas had broken the earlier tension.
Roman grinned, the playful flare of heat lingering in his eyes. ‘Don’t worry, I know what you meant.’
And just like that, many of the doubts that had plagued her these past few days evaporated. At the hospital, they made a good team. Surely with patience and caution and the honesty they’d always shared, they’d get through this. Yes, he needed time to come to terms with the news of Milly’s existence, but maybe he also needed...encouragement.
Closing the office door, she stepped close, resting her hand on his arm. They couldn’t seem to stop touching each other.
‘I’ve been thinking,’ she said, ‘and there’s absolutely no pressure either way, because I meant what I said about giving you space, but...would you like to meet her? Milly, I mean?’
Tension tugged at the corners of his mouth.
‘My sister brings her to the café across the road most lunchtimes,’ Sadie rushed on, ‘so I can feed her while I grab a sandwich. You’d be very welcome to join us. But if you think it’s too soon or a bad idea, that’s okay. I just thought...you know...with us being here and her being right across the street... Actually, I don’t know what I thought. You’re right; it’s overwhelming...’
Catching her off guard, Roman rested the tip of his index finger on her top lip, silencing her. ‘Please, no more nervous chatter.’
His hesitant smile turned indulgent in that way that told her he found her amusing. ‘I get the idea of what you’re saying.’
The burn of his finger against her lips turned her insides to jelly.
‘What time will you be there?’ he asked non-committally, his hand falling to his side, so Sadie missed his touch all over again.
‘One p.m., emergencies notwithstanding of course.’
‘I won’t make any promises,’ he said, reaching for the door handle at his back.
‘Okay,’ Sadie whispered, both grateful that he wouldn’t let her down and disappointed that Milly might go another day without meeting her kind and compassionate father.
Before he left the room, he cast her one final glance, laced with confusion, haunted by pain.
Sadie exhaled her held breath, her hand resting over her pounding heart. His concession was a small step in the right direction, one with which she could live. Now she just needed to set aside the way he made her feel every time they touched, which, despite everything else going on, seemed to be something of an addiction.