Susanne Hampton - Mending The Single Dad's Heart

‘Please can you go and check? I need to know what’s happening. I’m freaking out here. She’s gotta be okay.’

Jessica reluctantly agreed. She wasn’t even officially on staff yet so not keen to overstep protocols further than she already had but she knew Cody’s anxious state was escalating by the minute with the curtain obscuring his view and it wouldn’t end well if he raced over there. The young man was physically fine and the other nurses had returned to monitor his observations so she headed over to enquire about the status of his partner—the mother of his unborn child.

With each step she took, she prayed fate would not change the course of their young lives.

She quietly and tentatively parted the curtain and peered inside the bay to see the back of the doctor undertaking an ultrasound examination of the young woman. He had been informed of her pregnancy and was obviously prioritising the baby. It all seemed calm so she didn’t feel the need to interrupt.

‘The baby is fine; there’s a strong heartbeat and no obvious signs of distress, Ginny,’ she heard him say. ‘I’m sorry you can’t see the screen that I am looking at right now. I can share those images later with you. But for the time being we need to keep you flat until we can properly assess the damage to your neck and back. I believe it is muscular as you do not have any of the symptoms I would expect to see with a spinal injury. I need to send you for an MRI—it’s not an X-ray so it’s perfectly safe for your baby and it will allow us to assess any neck, spinal or ankle injuries. You and your baby are both paramount to anything we do.’

Jessica agreed with his treatment plan and she thought he had a lovely bedside manner and comforting voice. Deep, masculine but still warm. It sounded familiar but she knew that couldn’t be the case. She didn’t know anyone in town.

She raised her hand to close the curtain and caught sight of his profile and all but gasped. Her heart took a leap as she recognised him. She did know him. But the last time she’d seen him he wasn’t wearing a white consultant’s coat. Instead he was wearing the wet imprint of her carry-on luggage on his shoe.

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