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Single Dad's Wife (Fake Marriage Romance)

Page 27

by Lara Swann


  Beyond a few charities that have approached the practice, I don’t think I’ve heard much about the importance of spreading mental health awareness within Primary Care, or the difference it can make to talk about it openly with patients - and even then, those charities have usually had a much more specific focus, and far less collation of this kind of evidence.

  This is exactly the kind of thing I wanted to come here for.

  It gets me thinking in all the right ways and I start wondering immediately about what we might want to change back at the practice, based on some of the thing she’s saying. When she finishes and the questions wrap up, I even find myself approaching at the end, wanting to tell her in person how much I appreciated the talk.

  “Dr. Reynolds?” I say as I do, and she glances up from her laptop. “I don’t want to interrupt, but I just wanted to thank you for the talk. I haven’t seen many presentations on mental health here and it gave me a lot to think about.”

  She smiles. “I’m glad—Dr. Rivers, isn’t it?”

  “Ah, yes.” I say, surprised. I don’t think I’ve talked to her before.

  “I saw your presentation on what you’re doing back at your own practice yesterday—and I have to say, I could easily say the same. It sounds like a great initiative.”

  “Oh.” I smile. “Well, thank you.”

  “I was curious, though.” She tilts her head at me. “You ran out of time before I could ask—do you include mental health and disorders in the things people can approach you about in your Friday sessions? All your examples were of physical ailments.”

  “Ah, no, actually. We don’t.” I say, surprised now that I think about it. “I mean, we wouldn’t stop anyone from coming in and asking about that, of course, but we don’t specifically mention it. And those sort of disorders…I guess people don’t think to come in and ask about them, in the early stages.”

  “Yes, exactly.” Dr. Reynolds nods. “It’s something I’m trying to address. As you can probably tell, mental health awareness and attitudes is a pet topic of mine. By the time anyone is willing to admit something is wrong, they’re usually in quite a bad place - and it doesn’t help that it’s not something primary care specialists typically ask about or signpost resources for. I was interested, just because it seemed what you were doing would be the perfect environment for it. Your talk gave me some ideas of my own.”

  “I…you’re right.” I say, surprised that that’s never occurred to me before. "That would be a good environment for it.”

  I stand there slightly stunned at how obvious it seems. Why haven’t we pushed that before?

  “I think so too.” She says, her smile growing as she watches me consider it.

  “I’ll have to go back and think about how we could make that work.” I say, my mind already starting to spin through different ideas. “But yes, I’m surprised we haven’t thought of doing something like that ourselves.”

  “Well, I’m glad I could prompt the idea.” She says, then reaches into her bag. “Tell you what, I’ll give you my card too and if you want to call me up anytime to talk through different ways to make it work or different ideas you have, I’d love to.”

  “Really?” I say, taking it with surprise - and no small amount of appreciation. “That would be great. Thank you.”

  From the amount of research she clearly does, alongside her credentials working at one of the top private hospitals in Virginia, her time is obviously valuable.

  “Well, it’s not entirely selfless.” She says, a small sparkle in her eye. “I’d be very interested to hear some of the results and the reception to it if you do try it out.”

  “Yes—of course.”

  “Maybe we can even do a combined presentation at some point, once it’s been an established initiative for long enough.”

  I just barely catch myself from saying the first thing that comes to mind - what, really?! - and instead try to stutter a reply. Her credentials are so much better than mine that it’s hard to believe she’d be interested in that.

  “I—yes—that would—that would be great.”

  She just smiles. “Great. I’ll look forward to hearing from you, then.”

  I nod, still a little dumbstruck, and pocket her card carefully before turning to go.

  I barely make it out of the room and into the main section of the conference before I have to stop and breathe, buzzing with excitement and sudden adrenaline from all the possibilities that are now rushing over me.

  Yes. That was exactly why I wanted to start attending conferences so badly.

  I pull out my phone as soon as I can think straight, grinning ear-to-ear as I text Nathan.

  Me: I think I found you some new ideas.

  Nathan: Ohh? Do tell.

  I start typing, my fingers hovering over the buttons, but there’s no way I can express this feeling via text. I want to tell him everything—to share my excitement properly.

  Me: I’ll tell you all about it when I get home.

  Nathan: Haha, okay. Can’t wait to see you. I’ll have champagne and Chinese takeout waiting.

  I pause as I see that, my racing mind actually slowing for a moment as my smile taking on a very different tone and another feeling entirely rushes through me.

  Champagne and Chinese takeout.

  Just like our first evening together. It couldn’t quite be called a ‘date’ - even if getting a little too drunk that night might have been part of what started all this - but it still feels strangely meaningful, enough to tug at my feelings in all the right ways.

  Me: That sounds perfect.

  I spend the rest of the conference walking around with a stupid smile on my face - whether from my encounter with Dr. Reynolds, or Nathan’s messages, I’m not sure - and I’m pretty sure I look like an idiot, but I can’t bring myself to care. This has been more of a success than I could have imagined, and I have everything I could possibly want waiting for me back at home.

  Well, almost everything.

  But even the situation with Emma isn’t quite enough to dampen my mood - and despite how much I’ve enjoyed the weekend, I find myself racing home eagerly as soon as it ends. I hope I might get there in time to see Emma too, but Stephanie has already collected her by the time I arrive.

  And true to his word, Nathan is waiting with champagne.

  He meets me at the door with the kind of heated, passionate kiss that melts me against him immediately, dropping my bags and responding in kind, as I show him just how much I’ve missed him. He pulls back and leads me through to the kitchen just before it starts getting a little too inappropriate for being on display to the rest of the street, and I see the table lit with candles and set with a bucket of champagne, two glasses waiting for us beside it.

  “Aww, Nathan.” I say, feeling more touched than is really sensible at the gesture. I turn to him with a smile, warmth swelling within me.

  “My way of saying I’m sorry for not being there with you.” He murmurs, his gaze meeting mine as he steps up close to me, his hands rising to my face as he smiles. I can see the simple love there in his eyes, and it still manages to make my heart skip a beat sometimes. “Not that you seemed to need my help.”

  I lean forward to kiss him, and here in the house we indulge a little bit more, our bodies pressed tight against each other as we explore everything we’ve missed over the mere couple of nights we’ve been apart. Our hands run over each other and desire sparks inside me before he finally pulls back, almost reluctant.

  “If we skip straight to that.” He says, amusement in his voice. “I won’t get to hear all about it. Or enjoy the Chinese takeout that’s on the way.”

  He turns to the champagne and pours us both a glass, handing me one and raising his toward it.

  “To you. And everything you’ve accomplished this weekend.”

  I blush, almost feeling silly drinking to myself, but I raise my glass to his anyway.

  “Thank you, Nathan. For all of this.” I take a sip and give a short
sigh of appreciation. “This is good stuff.”

  “Only the best.” He says, sitting down - partly, I think, to keep his hands off me. “Now, tell me all about it.”

  As much as I want to savor this and simply enjoy him, that’s all the invitation I need - the excitement still buzzing in me and coming back twice as strong at the idea of telling him. I can’t help grinning as I recount the presentation, the comments I received afterward and some of the people I met as I joined in various talks and discussions.

  “The best part of it, though, came almost at the end.” I add, before he can start peppering me with questions about any of that, and then excitedly tell him all about the mental health talk and the conversation I had with Dr. Reynolds afterward.

  “I really think this is something we should pursue—there’s no reason why our sessions on Friday can’t be a chance for anyone to come and ask about any of those issues too.” I say, the words spilling out of me as I start explaining everything I thought about on the car journey home and all the possibilities we have.

  Eventually, he stops me with a laugh, standing up and pulling me into his arms.

  “I love you, Jessica.” He says warmly, his eyes sparkling at me.

  I frown slightly. “I love you too, Nathan, but that’s not what I was trying to say—”

  “I know. I just love your passion, and who you are, and everything about you.” He kisses me before I can object again, his mouth hot against mine and temporarily banishing all the whirling thoughts from my mind before he continues. “You’re right. I don’t know why we haven’t thought about anything like that before—except, I guess, that I’m not nearly as experienced with mental health as I am with physical health and it didn’t occur to me. But you’re much better - you’ve even done a year’s residency in it - it could be something you take the lead on, as a counterpart to some of what I offer the practice that we haven’t had before—”

  “Already trying to get me to do all the work?” I ask, eyebrow raised, but I’m almost laughing too.

  “You love it.” He grins, his mouth brushing over mine again. “And you are better suited to it.”

  I make a show of grumbling about it, but secretly I’m even more excited at that idea. I wanted something to make my own at the practice and this—this could be exactly what I was looking for. He can tell as well, damn him, if the sparkle in his eyes is anything to go by.

  I sigh gently, leaning into him and his arms come around me in a big, enveloping hug. Exactly what I missed while I was away.

  “Thank you for making me do that.” I say softly, my head against his chest. “It really was what I needed.”

  “I didn’t make you do it.”

  “Yeah. Right.” I retort, glancing up to give him a wry look.

  “You did this all yourself, Jessica.” He pulls back so he can look at me, his smile widening until it’s filled with a warmth that might just make my heart burst. “And I couldn’t be more proud of you.”

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Nathan

  O ver the next couple of weeks, Stephanie starts asking me to take Emma frequently enough that it begins to worry me. In some ways I’m grateful for how much it’s likely to boost my chances of appealing the court ruling - George’s response was more encouraging than I could have hoped for - but I feel like it’s getting too much and I’m concerned about what that might mean.

  I can’t bring myself to say ‘no’ - not when I want the extra time with her so badly and I don’t want her to be stuck with someone who doesn’t want it - but I don’t think it can be good for her, no matter how much she seems to enjoy the extra time with me.

  Stephanie refuses to talk about that though, even when I make a show of being reluctant to agree, and I think she knows I’m always going to cave if it means I get to see more of Emma. The feeling that she can walk all over me like that is infuriating, but I don’t think I’d change the weakness I have when it comes to my daughter for anything.

  It’s not until she comes by one Saturday morning with Emma in tow, without a word of warning, that I truly lose my temper.

  “Daddy!” Emma says excitedly, launching herself at me as I open the door and wrapping her arms around my legs.

  “Emma, sweetheart…” I pick her up automatically and bounce her on my hip, looking out to see Stephanie stood on my doorstep.

  She looks more tired than I expect, her arms folded across her chest and a weary expression in her eyes.

  “I need you to take Emma for me this weekend.” She says stiffly.

  “What?!” I try to moderate my tone a little bit with Emma in my arms, but the shock makes it hard. She’s never been this brazen before. “Stephanie, you can’t just—”

  “Please, Nathan. I need you to.” She sounds more desperate than I expect and it makes me pause for a moment, before my frustration surges past that.

  “This is ridiculous, Stephanie.” I start, trying to keep the anger out of my voice and hating that we’re having this conversation with Emma right here in my arms. The last thing I want is for her to think we’re arguing over her. “I’m not going to—”

  I cut off abruptly, as I see Jessica coming back from her morning run, slowing as she spots us outside the house. She approaches with a wary expression, raising an eyebrow at me, and Stephanie turns to see what I’m looking at.

  “What?” Stephanie starts in surprise. “What’s she still doing here? I would have thought…”

  “I know what you thought—and what you claimed—but you don’t always know as much as you think you do, Stephanie.” I say, keeping my answer deliberately vague for the sake of Emma.

  “Is everything okay?” Jessica asks, her concern obvious as she approaches. I mean, she can very obviously see everything isn’t okay. “Do you want me to…”

  She nods meaningfully at Emma, who still has her arms wrapped around my neck in an almost death-grip. I don’t think she’s paying nearly as much attention to the conversation as she is to being in my arms, thankfully.

  “Yes.” I say, giving her a grateful look. “Please.”

  At least that will give me the chance to say what I want to Stephanie.

  “Emma, sweetie.” I say gently, trying to rouse her from my arms. “Why don’t you go inside with Jessica, and I can have a word with your Mommy, hmm?”

  “Noo, I don’t want to!” She shakes her head emphatically, clinging tighter to me and scrunching her face up. I try not to sigh.

  “Please, sweetie. I’ll be there in just a few moments, I promise. It won’t be long at all.” I encourage her, peering to try to get her to look at me. “And you haven’t seen Jessica in a while…do you remember when you used to play with her?”

  At that, Emma looks over at Jessica, and I can see her hesitating.

  “Hey Emma.” Jessica smiles. “You know, I made some brownies just the other day. How about we go find one to share?”

  Emma looks between us again, her expression still sullen, but she starts to relax her grip on me, at least.

  “Okay.” She finally says quietly, blinking at me. She still seems a little upset, and my heart twists as I let her down to take the hand Jessica is holding out to her.

  It wasn’t that long ago the mention of brownies would have had her jumping up and down and squealing with excitement.

  The moment they’re inside, I turn back to Stephanie, the sight of what this is doing to Emma turning my anger into fierce determination. She’s still looking after Jessica, a troubled expression on her face as they disappear behind a closed door.

  She never did like being wrong.

  “You can’t keep doing this, Stephanie.” I say, my tone harsh now that Emma isn’t around to hear it. “I’m not going to stand for it anymore—”

  “Oh for fuck’s sake, Nathan.” Stephanie says, her tone strained as she looks back at me. “I just need a fucking break—can’t you understand that?!”

  I recoil, her language and the vehemence of her tone taking me by surprise—a
nd then immediately making me angry all over again. Thank god she waited until Emma had gone to say that.

  And how dare she—

  “It’s not easy, you know—looking after Emma every day, all by myself without any kind of downtime—”

  “Yes. I do know.” I say, my tone going cold as my expression hardens. “I know that all too well.”

  She has the grace to flinch slightly, but she recovers quickly.

  “At least you had your Mom here to help you.” She fires back. “I’ve got no-one. My friends—my parents—none of them live here, and thanks to your insistence in court, I can’t take Emma anywhere else.”

  “Because that would really be good for her, on top of everything else? Do you really have no idea, Stephanie? Can’t you see what this is doing to her?”

  “So take her for the weekend. Give me a break and make it a little bit easier on all of us. I would’ve thought you’d want the time with her.”

  “I do.” I grind out. “But not if it means she doesn’t know where she is or what’s going on. She needs some stability right now, not this crazy back-and-forth—punctuated by these arguments, no less.”

  “You don’t understand.” Stephanie says, the weariness coming back into her voice as she abandons the argument. “I really need this, Nathan.”

  I just stand there for a long moment, looking at her and I know the contempt is visible in my expression but god-damn it sometimes she makes it impossible to be civil, even for Emma’s sake.

  “I’ll do it this once, Stephanie, but this is the last time you pull this shit.” I say, leveling my gaze at her. I mean, Emma is already here now and I’ve pretty much already promised her that anyway. “After this, we stick to the planned visitation unless there’s a really good reason. Or we go back to court and get my visitation increased and stick to that. I sure as hell wouldn’t mind that, but I’m not having my daughter passed back and forth with no rhyme or reason to it.”

 

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