Her Doctor's Christmas Proposal Read online

  But he wasn’t taking it any more than she could. ‘You know what? I’m done chasing you, Isabel. All those years ago you thrashed my heart to pieces because you didn’t trust that I would look after you, you couldn’t trust me with your secret or your love. All those wasted years we could have been together, exploring the world. Living. Being. Together. That was all I ever wanted from the moment I first saw you in that classroom. And even now, when I’ve told you again that I love you, you throw it back in my face. Well, that’s me done. If you’re not willing to take a risk and let me in then I’m gone.’ His fingers ran across her throat to the chain that held the keys to his lock. He looked at them, then shook his head. ‘I’m finished trying to fight for you, Isabel. I’m finished loving you.’

  No. Don’t go. She wanted to call to him, to cling to him. To make him stay. He had been her constant. He loved her, still. After everything, he still wanted her. All she had to do was take a step. But she was scared, terrified, so deep-down frozen that she stood there and looked at him. And said nothing.

  Don’t go. In her head, a tiny voice. Don’t go. That got louder until it was all she could hear, all she could feel. She clasped the keys on her chain into her fist and tried to swallow through the thick wedge of sadness. I love you with every beat of my heart.

  But then he swivelled in the snow, stomping long wide footprints back to the hospital entrance, to the happy smiling relatives, to the big sparkling Christmas tree and the jingle-jangle music of Christmas songs. Leaving, in his wake, her frozen body and broken heart.

  And only then, when she knew she’d truly lost him, when there was no scrap of hope left, did she crumble to the bench and let the tears fall.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  HAPPY BLOODY CHRISTMAS?

  Yeah, right. Happy bloody life. The growing pressure in Sean’s chest almost stopped his breath. He had to get away from her.

  It was like Groundhog Day. It was as if he’d gone right back to being seventeen again, only worse because, hell—he’d been forewarned and forearmed, he’d known exactly what she was like and yet he’d loved her anyway.

  Fists clenched tight against his sides, Sean walked back into the warmth of the hospital, kept on going past the cafeteria, past the labour suite, past the wards and the cleaners’ department, past the delivery bay and out to the street at the other side. Then he ran. Along deserted roads covered in a thickening layer of snow. Past closed shops, further past magnificent colleges and the cathedral and onwards to the river.

  Along the footpath he ran past laughing families out throwing snowballs, screeching kids on their new bikes struggling with too-big wheels and too-high seats. He ran past hedges of brambles asleep until spring. Past punts, empty of passengers until summer sun hit the city. Past riverside pubs that murmured with laughter and cheer that he did not feel in any cell in his body, past trees and parks and fields. He ran and then he ran some more.

  And eventually, when he no longer had the energy to put one foot in front of the other, he came to a stop.

  Goddamnit, he had no clue where he was. ‘Isabel.’ He shouted her name to the sky, to the empty field, as if she might hear him and look for him. Louder, like a lunatic, like a desperate man. ‘Isabel!’

  But he wasn’t desperate; he’d just made a fatal error in falling in love with someone who didn’t know how to do the same. He’d tried, he’d laid his heart on the line and she’d stomped on it again. He’d been so close—they’d been so close—to having it all. And she just didn’t want it.

  Then he realised he had no breath left and he was doubled over trying to fill his lungs, but all he got were icy vocal cords and a searing hacking cough. He was supposed to be on call. He was supposed to be at the hospital doing his job. Not running to get Isabel out of his system—because she was there, indelibly printed on his heart and it was all pointless. He loved her, for God’s sake—how bloody stupid. He loved her, needed her, wanted her more than ever and she couldn’t see what a wonderful gift the two of them could be together. And even though he’d known this going in, he’d fooled himself into believing it wouldn’t happen. Well, no more. He straightened up, looked at the clear blue sky, emptied of its white load, a thin weak sun. But sun nevertheless. He would go onwards, travel some more. See the world. He would put her behind him, forget Paris and Cambridge and the hope and the love. He would recover from the hurt.

  Somehow.

  He stamped his feet and began to walk back to work.

  *

  ‘How’s she doing?’ Five hours and a couple of less straightforward Christmas deliveries later and Isabel had managed to find some time to visit SCBU again. Better that than to wallow in her own troubles. He was gone from her life—she had a week to endure working on side with him, loving him. Then she’d be home in Melbourne and she could put today behind her.

  She would get through this, start her life again. In the meantime she just had to make sure she didn’t come face to face with him. The crying had eventually stopped—although she had never known that a person could sob so hard for so long. And after she’d splashed her face with water and drunk two cups of fortifying coffee she’d filled her voice with Christmas cheer and come back to her world. She couldn’t leave the hospital, but she could certainly fill her day with people so she wasn’t free to face him again alone. She could do this. She could. ‘Baby Harding? Is she okay?’

  ‘Absolutely fine.’ Dean jerked his thumb towards the incubator and gave a wry smile. ‘Mum seems to be taking her time, but she’s getting there.’

  Dressed in some over-large clothes that Isabel guessed were from the goodwill cupboard, Phoenix was sitting on a chair staring at the cot while her baby gurgled in her incubator kicking her waif-like legs in the air. Poor mite. Both of them. They needed each other and neither of them knew how to go about it. Hoping she could perhaps set them on a path, Isabel crossed the unit and bent down next to Phoenix. ‘Hey, there. You made it.’

  Phoenix shrugged. ‘I couldn’t leave her here, not on her own.’

  ‘You did good. Now you can watch over her.’ And hopefully feel a mother’s need to hold her, some time soon. ‘How are you feeling?’

  ‘A bit better.’

  Isabel nodded and gave her what she hoped was a reassuring smile. ‘That’s good, isn’t it?’

  ‘Yes. I think so. Hope said she’d speak to a social worker and get me some help.’ Phoenix looked at her hands. ‘I need it. I’m not sure I can do this on my own. It’s a big responsibility—a life. Someone else’s.’

  ‘You’ll be okay. There are people who can support you. I’ll make sure of it.’

  But Isabel felt guilt settle on her shoulders. Phoenix had no one. No family, no partner, no one to care for her. She’d thought that she’d been in a similar situation, once, but there had been people there for her if she’d asked. Isla, of course. Her parents, if she’d taken a chance. Sean.

  Not any more. The sharp stab in her stomach was startling.

  Baby Harding started to stir; her body went rigid as she prepared to bawl. ‘I think she needs some company.’ Isabel gestured towards Dean, asking if she could pick her up. He nodded and winked.

  ‘Phoenix, is it okay if I pick her up?’

  ‘Sure.’

  Isabel bent into the crib and scooped up the little one. This time she would keep her feelings out of it. This time there would be no skin to skin—at least not hers. ‘Come here, sweetie. You want a cuddle?’ She cradled the baby in her arm, trying to soothe her. Singing a soft lullaby as Phoenix watched from behind her fringe.

  ‘You see this tube?’ Isabel pointed to the nasogastric tube, managing to keep it together. But, oh, how she wished she didn’t keep having that image of Sean in her head—the one where he’d looked at her so angrily and walked away. Where he’d finally, totally, given up on her. ‘This is to help with her feeds. She hasn’t mastered the art of sucking yet, so she needs a bit of help. If you get a chance, hold her close to your breast so she can smell yo
ur milk, try popping the tip of your little finger into her mouth and see if she tries to suck. Oh, and that tube in the crib is just for oxygen, if she needs it. But, as you can hear, her lungs are in pretty good condition.’

  As bub wailed Isabel continued to chat, inching closer and closer to Phoenix… ‘She’s got your hair colouring. Look at all that dark fluff. She’s gorgeous.’

  Tears filled Phoenix’s eyes. ‘Why won’t she stop crying?’

  ‘I think she needs her mum. Maybe?’ Dragging a chair next to Phoenix, she sat, still cradling the baby, grateful to have a distraction from Sean—and a little bit of interest from Phoenix if the flicker in her eyes was anything to go by. ‘Have you chosen a name for her yet?’

  ‘I was thinking of Sarah. After my mum.’

  ‘It’s a pretty name. For a pretty girl.’

  Isabel could see Phoenix’s fingers twitching. Then the young mum sat on her hands. Maybe she did want to hold her baby, but didn’t know how to ask. Didn’t dare. Some people were like that; some people had to be guided and were slow to build their confidence, whereas others dived right in. Like me, Isabel thought; no confidence whatsoever when it came to relationships. And then she tried again to rid her mind of all thoughts of Sean.

  But it wasn’t working. She couldn’t not think of him. Her heart swelled at the memory of his face, of his promises. Then it broke all over again.

  Noticing all the staff were busy, Isabel tried her strategy to help Phoenix. ‘I don’t suppose… No. It’s okay. I’ll ask someone else…’

  ‘What?’ Phoenix sat up straight.

  ‘I need to go to the loo. I don’t suppose you’d want to take Sarah for a moment. Just for a moment, mind you. I wouldn’t ask…only everyone seems busy with feeds and those poor babies needing extra care…’

  Biting her lip, Phoenix gave a little smile. ‘I…well, I suppose I could. Try.’

  ‘Oh, thank you. You’d be doing me a huge favour.’ Very slowly she handed the baby over. ‘I thought I’d be useless at holding them when I first started doing this job, but babies are very easy… Look, just support her head here, and keep that hand under her little tush. Good. That’s great. You’re a natural, Phoenix.’

  The baby began to turn her head towards Phoenix’s breast and nuzzled in.

  ‘Oh, she knows you’re her mum, all right.’ Isabel glanced up at Phoenix’s face, trying not to place too much emphasis on this because she didn’t want to frighten her, or put pressure on her. Gentle was the way to go. But Phoenix’s eyes were glittering with tears again. ‘She’s so small.’

  ‘But you watch, she’ll soon put on weight. Now, just sit tight and I’ll be back in a mo.’

  As Isabel stood she caught a glimpse of Sean’s reflection in the entrance-door glass.

  Oh. She sucked in a breath. Wow. It was a physical pain in her heart.

  She did not want to see him. Did not. ‘I…er… I think I’ll stay a minute.’

  She could do this. She sat back down.

  Phoenix watched her. ‘Dr Delamere, are you hiding from Dr Anderson?’

  ‘No. I’m just…well, I’m just trying to…’

  ‘I know it when I see it. I’ve been doing it for the last seven months. Trouble is, it catches up with you in the end.’ The girl grinned and lifted Sarah as evidence. ‘There are some things you just can’t deny any more.’

  ‘Don’t be so clever.’ Isabel didn’t know if he’d seen her, but he hadn’t come into the room.

  And Phoenix just wouldn’t let it drop. ‘So, he’s a nice guy. Helpful. Good with his hands…’

  She would not discuss her personal life with a patient—that would be absolutely stepping over the line. ‘Yes, well, I think you need to focus on Sarah.’

  ‘She’s asleep.’ Phoenix craned her neck to watch the door.

  ‘Ah, yes…anyway…’

  Phoenix turned back and grinned again. ‘It’s okay, he’s going now.’

  Relief flooding through her, Isabel breathed out and started to relax. ‘Good. Thank you.’

  ‘But if I were you I wouldn’t run too far away from him. Sexy guy like that.’

  ‘And none of your business.’

  Phoenix raised an eyebrow. ‘Just saying…if I had a guy look at me the way he looks at you I’d be walking towards him not hiding in a wing-backed chair. You’re lucky to have someone like him looking out for you. You’re lucky to have someone, full stop.’

  So it turned out that young Phoenix was wise beyond her years—and so very alone. And in stark contrast Isabel could have had everything. He’d been there offering her a future regardless of their past but she’d pushed him away. Again.

  How lucky was she to have someone like him in her life, someone to share everything—good times and bad—to walk with her through whatever life threw their way? How very selfish to wallow in the past and not take a chance on loving someone, and having them love you right back. Just because she was scared. Scared of feeling something…but wasn’t she feeling things right now? Despair, mainly. Loss. Broken. As if she’d ripped her own heart out of her chest, because it had all been her doing after all.

  Isabel turned and watched him disappear down the corridor. Was he avoiding her too? Did he really not want to see her again?

  And it hit her with force that she couldn’t bear the thought of not having him in her life. Of not loving him for ever. Because she had, it dawned on her now; she’d loved him her whole life. And it was painful and beautiful and every colourful emotion in between. The joy of it all was that he loved her too.

  Isabel glanced at Phoenix, who was now pressing her lips against the baby’s chest and murmuring the words to a Christmas song that was playing through the speakers. This girl had been so frightened to love her daughter and now it seemed she had decided to. Just like that. She was going to do it alone and it was going to be hard, but she was taking her first steps along that road. She was brave and strong and everything Isabel could be too—if she let it all in. If she let Sean in. Miracles could happen if you let them. Isabel brushed the rogue tears from her cheeks. Maybe it was her turn for one.

  *

  But she couldn’t find him. She’d tried the labour suite, the cafeteria, the postnatal ward. She’d popped into Theatre and he wasn’t there. Which was probably a good thing because she had no idea what she was going to say to him when she caught up with him.

  She wandered along the second-floor corridor with her heart beating too fast, panic setting in, looking in every room—stopping short of calling his name. And then, there, he was calmly ambling along towards her, deep in thought, hands in pockets.

  She stopped by the chapel and waited for him to see her, watching his reaction as he slowly came to a halt in front of her. She tried to read his face—but it was a mask. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who could hide their feelings. ‘Isabel. Hello.’

  ‘Sean.’ She didn’t know how to begin. What to say.

  But he spoke first. ‘Phoenix seems to be doing okay.’

  So he was keeping it professional. ‘Yes. Yes, she’s getting there. As am I.’

  His forehead crinkled as he frowned. ‘Sorry, I don’t understand.’

  ‘I wanted to tell you that I do love you. That being with you in Paris was the happiest I’ve ever been in my life.’

  He gave a sharp nod. ‘Good to know. Now, I need to go—’

  ‘Wait. Please. Don’t go, Sean.’

  ‘Is there any point to this?’

  ‘Yes. Yes, Sean…’ Pressing her palms against his chest, she made him stand still—because this was her only chance to say how she felt. Out loud to him. This was the only chance and she was going to grab it—and him and their love, whatever it took. ‘I was so scared, so very scared to love you—but it happened anyway. In fact, I don’t think I ever stopped loving you all these years. But I didn’t know how to let you in. I’ve spent so long pushing people away, not letting myself feel anything, in case I got hurt… I’m sorry. It’s taken some time
for me to realise, but I know now that I don’t want to live my life without you.’

  He shook his head and confirmed all hope was gone. He took her hands in his and she thought he was going to drop them, but he spoke, his voice weary. ‘I’m tired, Isabel.’

  ‘It’s Izzy.’ She squeezed her eyes closed to press back the tears, but this time she just couldn’t hold them back. Because she was his Izzy. ‘To you.’

  ‘I’m tired, Izzy.’

  She opened her eyes, because he’d used her pet name. A flicker of hope bloomed bright in her chest. ‘Of me?’

  ‘Of having to fight for you, of having to believe for two people. I’m tired of trying to be that person, the one you trust, the one you choose. And then you not choosing me anyway. I’m over that. I need a life for me. I can’t do this any more.’

  Her hands stilled against his heart. It was there, solid and strong. He’d been so strong for them both. ‘I trust you.’

  ‘Do you, really? Because I haven’t seen any sign of that.’ He looked as if he didn’t believe her, didn’t want to. ‘Since when?’

  ‘Since for ever.’

  ‘But I need to see it, you needed to show me instead of bottling everything up inside. I love you, but I won’t go through that again. I don’t want to.’

  So she’d pushed him to the edge and he’d stepped right over. ‘I see. So there’s no chance…?’

  There’s a small chance, she thought, because he was still holding her hands.

  She gripped his tightly and peered up into his dark eyes that shone with light. ‘I know I’ve been a Delamere disaster to live with, but you’ve got to understand, I love you with all my heart—and I always will. You, me and Joshua—we were a family, even if just for such a short time, and somewhere along the line I stuffed that up. Big time. I lost you and I don’t ever want to lose you again, because that would be too much to bear. You remember those dreams we used to have when we were younger? Those happy, silly dreams that we had a lifetime ahead of us, all the things we could do together? Conquer the world and have fun in the process? I know I lost that—it’s taken me all these years to find that again—and you’ve reawakened it. I know we can do great things, we can be great together. Look at how we helped Teo and Marina…’