Baby on Board

Night Shift

I'm a great doctor. I'm a better surgeon, but I'm a great doctor. Being how I am, or how I was, people were always shocked whenever they found out that I work with kids. Not that I work with children; I work with babies in the NICU/PICU department of Great Ormond Street Hospital, a job that I absolutely love, even if I have to take the graveyard shift every few days. 

Today, I'd swapped shifts with Yasmina so that she could go home to her sickly daughter. I was glad of the distraction because I'd really rather be here tonight than back at my houseboat. I heard Martha talking to Lottie on the phone this morning, something about coming over and teaching Martha to cook shortbread biscuits, and I knew then that I could not be around for that. 

I'd been actively avoiding Lottie since Saturday. That kiss had spun me out and I didn't know what it meant. It could have been because she was trying to shut me up when I was ranting at her for taking Martha shopping after her airport arrest, but part of me thinks that there was some other motivation behind it. No one kisses like that unless it means something but I wasn't all that good at figuring Charlotte Delaney out. If I were, I would know exactly where I stood with her. I don't, though, and I find that it bugs me more than it really should. 

What does it mean when the woman carrying your child suddenly pounces on you even though she's made it more than clear that nothing will ever happen between us? 

Pregnancy hormones. I bet that'll be the excuse she gives me. Because God forbid I actually get a straightforward answer from her on the matter. She skates around everything and I don't know where I stand anymore. I want to be part of Lottie's life beyond simply being the father of her child and coming from me, that's a big deal. Honestly, it's a bigger deal than winning the lottery. 

Before Lottie, I was content to sleep around. Alyssa had fucked me up enough that I would never allow any woman to come that close to repeating what she had done to me. Keep them at arm's length, on the periphery, where they don't hold any power over you and you'll never get hurt again. At least, that's what I thought I should be doing. All it took was one night and my whole outlook on it changed. I'd allowed someone to break down that barrier I'd put up; I'd allowed someone to get close to me and dare I say it, but I liked being with Lottie. She made everything seem better, if only for a moment. Still, she ran from me. The only person that could ever fix me and she was running from me, breaking me that little bit more. 

That's why I need whatever happens between us happen on her terms. If I pushed, I'd be giving more of myself away to her and I don't have much of me left to lose. My heart was still fragile, prone to breaking under even the slightest pressure. 

God, I sound like such a girl right now.

"I didn't know you were working tonight," my colleague, Dr. Benjamin Copeland, said as he entered the staff workroom and pulled up a chair next to me. He scanned the paperwork that was on the desk- the paperwork I've been staring at for hours- and frowned when he noticed a sonogram picture. "Gastroschisis? God, that sucks. When's the baby due?"

"Early August but we're going to induce," I explain. Leaning back in my chair, I shuffle the documents together and place it at the top of my work pile. "It's not just the intestines outside of the abdominal wall, but the stomach and liver, too. It's going to take a few attempts before we can get the little man home."

Ben frowns. "I have a percutaneous pulmonary valve replacement if you fancy that instead?" When I don't respond, Ben laughs and starts to help me get my things together. My night shift was almost over and I was dying to go home to my bed but I had just a few more things to do. Handing me a stack of work, Ben's hands move to the baby name book that I'd been flicking through earlier. "Is this yours?"