The Doctor's Lost-and-Found Bride (12 page)

‘Stay put. Visiting someone in hospital is tiring—not so much physically, but it drains you.’ He handed her a mug of camomile tea. ‘Caffeine’s going to make you twitchy and disturb your rest. This might help.’

He’d sweetened it with a spoonful of honey to make it palatable, and Marina’s eyelids prickled with tears. This was a whole new side to Max: caring, reliable, thoughtful. Just as he was with his patients and his staff. A grown-up version of the man she’d fallen in love with—a man who could still be spontaneous, but had a serious and responsible side.

The man she was still in love with, if she were honest with herself. She’d been angry with him, hurt and furious, but underneath it all she’d never really stopped loving him.

And she was beginning to think that he felt the same way.

On Thursday, Nathan’s condition deteriorated, and when Marina met her sister on the unit Rosie was in tears.

‘He didn’t need those tubes yesterday.’

Marina knew that the nursing team would have explained everything to Rosie, but she guessed that her sister
had been so shocked by the sight of the baby and the extra tubes that she was panicking. Gently, she talked her through the equipment. ‘It’s not hurting him; it’s there to help the nurses look after him. He’s probably a bit tired; this is helping him rest, so he gets stronger.’

‘But it’s all my fault.’ Tears ran unchecked down Rosie’s face. ‘If I’d rested properly, this wouldn’t have happened and he would’ve been fine.’

Marina put her arms round her sister. ‘This is your hormones kicking in,
cara
—it’s the baby blues talking. You’ve had a rough time, what with being on bed rest and away from Neil and Phoebe for weeks, having an emergency section under a general anaesthetic, and now Nathan being in here. And
none
of this is your fault. It’s just one of these things that nobody could predict—and Nathan’s going to be fine. He might get a bit worse before he gets better, but all the nurses here are really experienced and they’ll know exactly what to do.’

Marina spent the rest of the day with Rosie, reassuring her, and was grateful to go home to Max’s support.

‘You know as well as I do that all conditions like this get worse before they get better, whether it’s a premmie with RDS, a baby with bronchiolitis or a toddler with pneumonia,’ Max said.

She nodded. ‘That’s what I told Rosie. But it’s so hard to see him like that, Max. It makes me feel so helpless—I’m a doctor and I can’t do a thing to make things better.’

‘You’re an emergency doctor, not a neonatal specialist,’ he said. ‘And you’re the one who picked up Rosie’s pre-eclampsia in the first place. If it wasn’t for you, there might be a much darker scenario.’

She couldn’t even bear to think about that.

‘It’s going to be fine.’ He wrapped his arms round her. ‘I’m here, and I’m not going away. But I do think you need something to take your mind off things.’

She tensed for a moment, wondering just what he had in mind.

But then he released her, walked over to her games console and slid a disk in. ‘Prepare,’ he said, ‘to be thoroughly beaten and forced to admit that I’m better at ski-jumping than you are…’

He did manage to take her mind off her worries. He even made her smile. But as he prepared to go her smile faded.

‘Try not to worry,’ he said gently. ‘I know it’s hard, but Nathan’s in the best place, and so is Rosie.’

‘I know. I just can’t…’ She dragged in a breath. ‘Max, can I ask you something?’

‘Sure.’

‘Would you…would you stay with me tonight? I’m not trying to make a move on you or anything. I just don’t want to be on my own right now.’

She’d actually asked him for something—which meant she was letting him close. He’d give her the moon and stars if it were in his power, if she only knew it. Staying with her, holding her while she slept, was easy to promise and easy to do. Max wrapped his arms around her. ‘Of course I’ll stay.’

‘I can’t even offer you a T-shirt or anything.’

Because his frame—even though he was thinner than he’d been four years ago, as she’d pointed out—was so much larger than hers.

He rested his cheek against her hair and smiled. ‘I think I can just about cope. Pink doesn’t really suit me, anyway.’

To his relief, it made her laugh. Only a tiny laugh, but it was a start. Being with her was helping push her fears away—and it made him feel ten feet tall. Because he was making a difference. To the woman he loved.

‘Come on, honey. Let’s go and get some sleep. Do you have a spare toothbrush?’

‘No, but you’re welcome to borrow mine.’

She suggested that he should have the bathroom first. She was wearing a nightshirt when she climbed into bed beside him. She could’ve been skin to skin with him, Max thought, and he would have resisted temptation. Because he knew that right now she needed cuddles rather than sex. And he was going to give her exactly what she asked for. Exactly what she needed.

‘Roll over,’ he said softly, and curled his body spoon-style round hers. He drew her back against him, holding her close. She’d trusted him enough to show him her vulnerable side, and it aroused every single protective fibre in his being. ‘Sleep, now,’ he said. ‘I’m here. And everything’s going to be just fine.’

T
HE
next morning, Max woke with Marina in his arms. Although he knew he really ought to get up, he couldn’t resist staying where he was a little longer. Waking up with her like this, on just an ordinary day…Even though the quality of the light filtering through the curtains told him that it was raining, it felt as if the day was full of sunshine simply because he was with her.

The woman he loved more than words could say.

Not that now was the right time to tell her.

Eventually, she stirred in his arms and her eyelids fluttered.

‘Morning, sleepyhead,’ he said softly.

She opened her eyes, instantly awake. She’d always been a morning person, he remembered. ‘How long have you been awake?’ she asked.

‘Long enough.’ He stroked her face. ‘I have to go, honey. I need to drive home before the rush hour starts and get changed for work.’

‘And I need to pick up Phoebe.’ She brushed a kiss across his mouth. ‘Thanks, Max. For staying with me, last night—I really appreciate it. And I’m sorry I was so needy.’

If he wasn’t careful, she’d pull away from him again, turn all self-contained: and he wanted to avoid that. ‘Hey.
I was the one who drove over here, all panicky and convinced something was wrong.’

‘You didn’t panic at all.’ She smiled wryly. ‘Nothing fazes you, Max.’

Oh, yes, it did. Losing their baby and then losing Marina had thrown him completely. And he’d tried to outpace the pain by burying himself in work. The second he’d stopped running—when he’d been immobilised in a hospital bed—he’d discovered that his demons had grown to twice the size. And he still hadn’t quite conquered them.

‘You’d be surprised,’ he said. ‘But we both have to get going. I’ll see you tonight, honey.’ He kissed her lightly and climbed out of bed.

‘Can I make you breakfast?’

He shook his head. ‘No time.’ But maybe tomorrow.
If
she asked him to stay tonight…

Max was grabbing a sandwich at his desk during his lunch break, catching up on paperwork, when his mobile phone rang. He glanced at the screen, half-intending to ignore it, until he saw Marina’s name on the caller display.

‘Marina? Is everything all right?’ he asked.

‘It’s fine,’ she reassured him.

It was only then that he realised that he’d been holding his breath, fearing the worst.

‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you. Nathan’s doing a bit better today, so I wondered if you’d like to come and see him this evening.’

‘Are you sure Rosie won’t mind?’ Since Nathan had been in SCBU, Max had stayed out of the way and concentrated on supporting Marina, not wanting to push in, and feeling that he didn’t have the right to be part of her family any more.

‘Actually, Rosie suggested it.’

‘I’d love to.’

Did this mean that she didn’t want to see him tonight, though? That she didn’t want him to cook for her, the way he had been doing—that she’d ask him to return her keys?

He made an effort to concentrate on his patients rather than his fears, and after his shift he made his way down to SCBU. He identified himself over the intercom, and Marina came to the door to let him in.

‘I haven’t brought anything for the baby or Rosie,’ he said, giving her a worried look. ‘I know soft toys aren’t suitable for here, and—’

She pressed the tip of her forefinger against his lips. ‘Don’t worry about it. A visit’s enough.’

It had been a while since he’d last been in a special-care unit, and he’d forgotten quite how high the temperature was set. And how noisy the unit was, with monitors going off every few minutes.

He hugged Rosie. ‘Congratulations. Sorry I haven’t brought you anything.’

She smiled at him. ‘Don’t be daft! I didn’t expect anything—I’m happy just to have you here. You spent so much time with me before he was born, I wanted to introduce you to my son.’

‘He’s beautiful.’ Max stood awkwardly by the incubator, not sure what to do. Funny; in a life or death situation, he knew exactly what to do, knew what to look out for, knew how to direct others. But here he was completely out of his depth. ‘I didn’t realise how small he’d be.’ He grimaced as soon as the words came out. ‘Sorry. What a stupid thing to say.’

‘He is small.’ Rosie patted his shoulder. ‘Though he’s
not the smallest baby in here. He’s feeding well and he’s put on a couple of ounces.’

‘That’s great.’

As if sensing that he didn’t have a clue what to do next, Marina said softly, ‘Try putting your finger against his palm.’

‘Is that…?’

‘It’s
fine
,’ Rosie reassured him. ‘Try it.’

He did so. And he wasn’t prepared for the emotion that welled up as the baby’s tiny fist closed around his index finger: the longing. The way his heart seemed to turn inside out. The way all his protective instincts reared up and made him want to fight dragons to protect this little boy.

This was what it could’ve been like for Marina and him: the first precious moments of seeing their baby, touching the soft, soft skin, seeing those blue eyes open in wonder…

Of course, he’d seen babies before. He had treated them, sometimes in the most appalling conditions. But it wasn’t the same as seeing a baby who was close to you. The baby who, if he’d still been married to Marina, would’ve been his nephew: a blood relative of the love of his life.

He really hadn’t been prepared for this surge of emotion.

Just for a moment, Max was completely unguarded. And Marina could see how overwhelmed he was; she was shocked that someone so tiny and helpless could reduce him to utter mush. She could see the emotion flickering across his face: wonder, awe—and was that wistfulness?

Would he have looked like that the first time he’d laid eyes on their baby?

‘He’s beautiful,’ Max said again, his voice slightly cracked.

‘I can’t wait to take him home.’ Rosie bit her lip. ‘I’m
allowed to go home tomorrow, but Nathan needs to be here for at least another couple of weeks.’

‘At least you can spend time here with him, and you’re not going to be stuck on bed rest,’ Max reminded her.

‘That’s true. And I can’t wait to be home with Neil and Phoebe—even though I want to be here, too.’

Almost as if on cue, Neil walked in, carrying Phoebe.

‘We’ll go and wait outside—give you some room,’ Marina said. ‘Phoebe, when you’ve had a cuddle with Mummy, would you like to come and have supper with me before you go back to Grandma and Granddad’s?’

Phoebe looked at Max, then at Marina; she nodded shyly and buried her head in her father’s chest.

Max hugged Rosie goodbye and shook Neil’s hand.

‘Come and get me when you’re ready,’ Marina said. ‘I’ll be in the café.’

As she left the unit with Max, she asked, ‘Would you like to have supper with us tonight? I’m going to make Phoebe’s favourite—spaghetti Bolognese and garlic bread.’ When he didn’t reply immediately, she said, ‘Don’t feel you have to—we’ve taken up too much of your time already this week.’

‘No, I’d like to—as long as you think Phoebe won’t mind being around a stranger.’

‘She might be shy with you at first, but if you’re any good at building towers out of bricks that she can knock down she’ll be fine.’

‘I take it you have bricks?’

‘I have a
great
toy box. Bricks, those little tray-type jigsaws, dinosaurs and a train set.’

He blinked. ‘Phoebe’s a girl.’

‘She likes dinosaurs and trains as well as princessy stuff,’ Marina explained with a grin. ‘Let me get you a coffee.’

They’d just finished their drinks when Neil brought Phoebe in to the café. ‘I’ve got her pushchair so she can have a nap on the way back to yours,’ he said.

‘And I’ve got a seat in the back of my car, so I’ll drop her off at Mum and Dad’s,’ Marina said.

‘You,’ Neil said, ‘are just brilliant. Thanks so much. Without you, these last few weeks…’

‘And Max,’ Marina said. ‘He’s been brilliant, too.’

‘I know. Thanks for helping.’ He shook Max’s hand, then hugged Marina. ‘See you later.’ He strapped Phoebe into the pushchair and kissed her goodbye. ‘Daddy’ll be home ready for bath time, poppet.’

Back at her house, Marina dug out the toy box. ‘Phoebe, Max will make you a tower while I cook the spaghetti, OK?’

Phoebe looked slightly wary and clutched at Marina’s knee.

‘What’s her favourite colour?’ Max mouthed.

‘Red,’ she mouthed back.

He smiled. ‘Shall we start with a red brick, Phoebe? Except, I need you to show me the right one.’

‘Red bick,’ Phoebe said. She rummaged for a red brick and handed it to him.

‘Brilliant. What colour shall we have next?’ Max asked.

‘Lellow.’ She found a yellow brick and produced it triumphantly, balancing it on top of the brick Max had laid.

‘Shall we count them as we put them up?’ Max asked. ‘One, two…’

Marina smiled, half-wishing she could stay to watch them, but then Max might feel uncomfortable and stop. ‘I’ll give you a yell when everything’s ready.’

Cooking pasta while Max was playing with her niece felt odd, almost as if she had the chance to see what might
have been. How their life should have been: simple domestic comforts wrapped in deep, deep love. She could hear squeaks of delight from the living room, the sound of tumbling bricks, and then suddenly Max’s baritone rendition of a nursery song, punctuated with claps and giggles from Phoebe.

They’d both missed out, she thought. Phoebe on an uncle, and Max…Max on an awful lot more.

Phoebe insisted on sitting next to Max at the table. It meant that he ended up being splashed with spaghetti sauce, but he didn’t seem to mind at all. And at the end of the meal he was the one who washed Phoebe’s face and hands.

He was a natural.

What an amazing father he would have made.

‘Do you want to come with me to drop Phoebe off?’ she asked after they’d eaten.

‘Better not. Things to do,’ he said.

In other words, she thought, he was avoiding her parents. And she could guess why, too: in case they held the divorce against him, which of course they didn’t. The Petrellis were nothing like the Fentons.

‘But I’m off duty tomorrow. We could take Phoebe out, if you like—maybe to the Aquarium?’ he suggested. ‘Then Neil and Rosie don’t have to worry while they sort out the paperwork before Rosie leaves the hospital.’

‘But she’s only two—how can we take her on the Tube?’

‘I’ll carry her. That pushchair’s lightweight and easy to put up and take down, isn’t it?’

‘Yes.’

‘Then, you handle that and I’ll carry Phoebe.’ He smiled. ‘It’ll be fun.’

A whole day with Max, doing parent-type things. In
some ways, it would hurt; in others, maybe it would help to heal. To heal him as well as her, she thought. ‘I’ll call Rosie from Mum’s and check it’s OK with her.’

‘Great. Unless I hear otherwise, I’ll meet you here at ten.’

At precisely ten the next morning, Marina answered her front door, with Phoebe settled on one hip. The little girl stretched out her arms and gave a beaming smile. ‘Max!’

‘Hello, princess,’ he said easily, and took her from Marina. ‘We’re going to see the fish. Do you like fish?’

‘P’etty fish,’ Phoebe said, still beaming.

‘I think that’s a yes,’ Marina said. ‘I’ve got her bag and her pushchair.’

Dealing with the Tube was as easy as Max had suggested, and Phoebe loved the Aquarium. She was entranced by the seahorses, and was wide-eyed in the tunnel where she could see the sharks. Max carried her on his shoulders all the way round the exhibition, pointing things out to her and getting her to count the fish and name the colours.

Again, Marina thought what a fabulous father he would’ve made.

If only.

Eventually, Phoebe’s eyelids started to close; Max gently strapped her back into the pushchair, and found them a space in a café on the South Bank.

‘What should I get for Phoebe?’ he asked. ‘Juice and a sandwich?’

‘No need. I’ve got a packed lunch in my bag for her,’ Marina said.

‘But it’s a warm day. Won’t it all be a bit icky?’

‘Ice packs,’ Marina explained with a grin.

He grinned back. ‘Duh. I forget how efficient you Petrelli women are. OK. Cappuccino and a panini?’

He’d remembered her favourite snack. ‘Yes, please.’

He made sure that Phoebe’s pushchair was parked safely in the shade, then went to fetch coffee and toasted sandwiches for himself and Marina. He greeted her with a kiss when he returned with a tray, and touched Phoebe’s cheek gently with the back of his fingers. ‘Bless her. I think the sharks really tired her out.’

‘She usually has a short nap about now. I’d say we’ve got about another half-hour before she wakes up,’ Marina said.

‘Half an hour for just you and me.’ He smiled, easing himself onto the bench next to her. ‘She looks so cute when she’s asleep, doesn’t she? Mind you, I know someone else who looks cute.’ He moved closer and whispered in her ear, ‘Especially when she’s asleep.’

Marina couldn’t help laughing. ‘Max, that’s so cheesy!’

‘Hey. I didn’t claim to be perfect. But I still think you’re cute.’ He kissed her again. ‘And, because you’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever met, you can have first pick of the paninis. Brie and bacon, or chicken.’

‘As they’ve been cut in half, how about a piece of each?’ she suggested.

He stole a kiss. ‘That’s one of the things I love about you—you’re so practical.’

A woman carrying a tray and clearly looking for a spare table smiled at them. ‘Your little girl’s gorgeous,’ she said, indicating the sleeping toddler. ‘Such beautiful hair. She looks just like her mum.’

‘Yes, she does,’ Max said without missing a beat. ‘Thank you.’

His gaze met Marina’s, and she knew they were both thinking of what might have been.

‘Easier not to explain,’ he said when the woman had moved away.

True. And she and Max were acting like parents—as if Phoebe were their own child rather than her niece—so it was an easy mistake for a stranger to make.

‘When I first saw you with Phoebe,’ he said, as he if he were reading her thoughts, ‘I thought she was your daughter, because she looks so much like you. I saw the way you greeted Neil. And I thought you were a family.’