Healing the Single Dad's Heart

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Healing the Single Dad's Heart Page 9

by Scarlet Wilson


  Talking about work was easy. She knew she’d been tense this last week. Turning every corner in her workplace—her safe place—and wondering if she might see the man who’d told her she wasn’t good enough was unnerving.

  She’d no wish or desire to speak to Reuben again. But she’d heard he’d asked after her. How much could she realistically avoid him?

  She stared at the paperwork in front of her, trying not to focus on Joe’s strong hands as his fingers curved around the pen. What was wrong with her?

  Concentrate.

  Her brain was going places it shouldn’t.

  It had only been a hug, and she’d do well to remember that.

  She held in a sigh and stared back at the protocol in front of her. For the first time in her life, she was tempted to mix work with pleasure. No matter how hard she tried, it seemed the logical part of her brain could only hear the pitter-patter of her heart.

  This had disaster stamped all over it. Having Reuben around reminded her just how far apart her world was from Joe’s.

  What was that children’s story—The Prince and the Pauper? That was how far apart they felt to her. No matter what his eyes had told her in that hug earlier. If he knew the truth about her, and her poor background, he would start to look at her differently, more coolly.

  She remembered how that felt. How belittling. How sad it had made her.

  And even though her brain told her all this, she could tell that her heart wasn’t listening.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  THE TELEVISION CREW was like a virus. They seemed to spread everywhere, particularly into parts of the hospital they’d been explicitly told they weren’t allowed.

  On the other hand, the surgeries that Reuben had performed over the last few weeks were proving to be a miracle for some of the patients.

  He didn’t just do the showbiz plastic surgery. He’d performed a skin graft on a child who’d had her face scarred by boiling water. The early results were good. He’d also performed surgery on a woman with contracture of her fingers. For the first time in years she was virtually pain-free and had a hand she could actually use. He’d reset a woman’s nose and fixed her shattered cheekbone after she’d been attacked by her ex-husband and had thought she’d be disfigured for life. Even from the sidelines, Lien’s heart had tugged as the woman had seen her reflection once the bruising had subsided and had then flung her arms around Reuben in complete gratitude.

  These were the moments for which Lien had become a doctor and, a long time ago, Reuben had made her believe this was also his reason for being a surgeon.

  The cynical part of her knew that when the moment had been captured by the film crew, Reuben had achieved the best publicity he could possibly hope for. It wasn’t a mistake. There was obviously another reason for all this, but so far Lien had managed to avoid him completely and now her curious brain wanted to know what he was really up to.

  She and Khiem had been discussing two other potential patients for Reuben. One was a maternity patient who’d had an emergency section in an outlying village and had been left with a persistently leaking wound. They’d spent the last few weeks treating her underlying infection with IV antibiotics, and were hopeful that Reuben could use his skills on the scar and they could finally get the wound to heal.

  The second was a child with a congenital condition who required facial surgery to assist his breathing. The surgeries were vastly different—but already the TV team were asking for permission regarding filming and publicity. It made Lien feel distinctly uncomfortable, but there was nothing she could do about it. Reuben was offering his time and services free, the hospital was picking up the aftercare. In any other set of circumstances these patients would never get the opportunity for surgery.

  She’d just finished a ward round and was writing up a treatment regime for a TB patient when she sensed someone walk into the room behind her.

  She hadn’t even turned before every cell in her body froze. The confidence of the footsteps followed by the waft of familiar cologne was all it took.

  ‘Why, there she is, the mystery doctor!’ Reuben exclaimed.

  She kept working. ‘I’m busy,’ was her brisk reply.

  ‘Aren’t we all?’ He swept over to her with a swish of the white coat he persisted in wearing.

  ‘What do you want, Reuben?’ she sighed, still refusing to look up.

  ‘Why, Lien? What’s wrong? Anyone would think you weren’t pleased to see me.’

  ‘Anyone would be right.’

  His hand closed over hers, and she was so shocked it took a second for her to snatch it away.

  ‘Lien, why be like this? We were such good friends.’ She couldn’t quite work out if he was being deliberately sarcastic or if he really was so wrapped up in himself he couldn’t see further than the end of his own nose.

  ‘What are you doing here, Reuben?’

  Now she did look up. He pretended to look hurt. ‘Why do you think I’m here? I want to give a little back to the people of Hanoi.’

  ‘And yet it’s taken you six years to realise that is your calling.’ The sarcastic words shot out before she had a chance to soften and rephrase them. She mentally cursed herself. It didn’t matter how she felt about him, she still wanted him to do the surgeries on the two other patients.

  It was so weird, staring into the face again of the man she’d thought she might have loved. It had been so long. His light brown skin had a strange sheen, his hair much darker than before. In fact, it looked a bit odd around his hairline. Years ago, Reuben’s hair had been a bit thinner and he’d been paranoid about it. Had he had a hair transplant?

  He’d always been good looking, but his face seemed different. Maybe he’d had some work done. She couldn’t quite tell. The skin on his forehead and around his eyes was unusually smooth. Maybe some Botox? One thing was for certain, he’d had every single one of his teeth veneered. They’d been reasonably straight before, but now they were sparkling white and uniformly sized.

  She laughed out loud. ‘You look quite different.’

  ‘I’m in the business,’ he said quickly. ‘When people come to see a plastic surgeon, they expect perfection. I try my best.’

  ‘There was nothing wrong with the way you looked before,’ she said quietly, and a little sadly.

  His green eyes met hers. Even they looked different—a bit more startling. Was he wearing green contacts?

  She sighed. How could she ever have thought they were on the same wavelength? She had no problem with anyone trying to improve their appearance if they chose to. But Reuben seemed to be trying to achieve an unrealistic perfection. That couldn’t be healthy.

  He waved his hand. ‘Anyway...’ his eyes swept up and down her body ‘...pleased to see you haven’t let yourself go.’

  She blinked, temporarily incensed at the entirely unprofessional comment. Her body was rigid and she struggled to keep her voice steady. ‘Well, obviously my whole life depends on your approval of how I look, Reuben.’

  One of his eyebrows cocked. She was surprised the Botox allowed it. They hadn’t seen in each other in a long time and her obvious indifferent attitude to him wasn’t sitting well.

  She really didn’t care. She was holding back—really she was. If she truly engaged her brain and her mouth he would doubtless walk out of here and never come back.

  She took a breath. ‘Tell the truth. What’s going on—why are you really here?’

  He leaned against the worktop, moving slightly closer to her. He seemed to be under the illusion that she might welcome this.

  ‘You know me, I’m just being civic-minded.’

  She finished her chart. ‘You’re right. I do know you. At least, I do now. So, spill, Reuben. What gives?’

  He looked down towards his handmade shoes for a second. ‘I might need a little help.’

  ‘Help with what?


  He straightened his back. ‘It seems I might have some bad publicity heading my way. My publicist said that I should—’

  ‘Your what?’ She couldn’t help but interrupt. She’d heard everything now.

  ‘My publicist. She said that I should look a bit more civic-minded. It seems that some of the activity at the clinic has been examined. It was granted a licence on the grounds it would also see some local patients for free, but it’s been so busy there just hasn’t been time.’

  She smiled. ‘Ah, now we’re getting to the real news.’

  He lifted his hand to run his fingers through his hair, but they kind of got stuck.

  ‘She asked me about my past, and if I knew anyone, and if there was some place I could think of to see some local patients.’ He shrugged awkwardly. ‘And your name came up.’

  It was like a cold breeze sweeping over her skin. ‘What do you mean, my name came up?’

  He couldn’t look her in the eye. ‘Well, when she asked me if I knew anyone...’

  ‘What, I was the one person who came from the worst district in Hanoi that you knew—the token person from the slum?’ She couldn’t stop the rage that surged through her veins.

  The eyebrow remained raised. He seemed surprised by the passion behind her words. ‘I know that you are familiar with the area, with the people—and their health needs.’ He looked as if he was trying to find the right words, but there was an inherent smugness in how he sounded. He waved his hand dismissively. ‘We know the stats. The people.’ He glanced at her. ‘The most deprived populations have the worst health.’

  She put a hand to her chest. ‘You mean my people?’

  The words just came out. She hated the fact that her stomach almost curled in embarrassment or that she could feel tears prickling at the sides of her eyes.

  ‘Well...yes,’ he said simply.

  She tried to push all her emotional and irrational thoughts to the back of her mind. She had to be professional. This was her workplace.

  His hand swept past her again. ‘I’m not all bad, Lien. You just think I am.’ He put his hand to his chest and stepped a little closer, letting her inhale his cloying aftershave. ‘I’m me. And you’re you. We can’t change that. But...’ he took a deep breath ‘...I would rather fulfil the terms of my licence here than anywhere else.’ His eyes rested on the stack of patient files on the desk. ‘That tiny part of me that wanted to do well as a doctor? It is still there.’ He shrugged. ‘It just got lost in the hype. I know you have more patients for me. People I can help, who would never get these surgeries otherwise. People like you, Lien. I can be here once a week for the next four months. Will you let me help them, or should I go somewhere else?’

  She hated him. She hated him for being so factual, and reasonable, but continuing to throw in subtle digs about their different backgrounds.

  * * *

  It was quite extraordinary. When she’d started dating Reuben at university, he’d been a little pompous perhaps, but he had at least tried to fit in with all the other students. It had only been as they’d got further along in their studies that his entitled persona had appeared.

  For a time Lien hadn’t told anyone where she was from. Maybe she had felt a bit ashamed at the time—fitting in had been hard enough. It had been clear that most of the students who had been studying medicine came from well-to-do families. No one had known about her scholarship, and for that she’d been glad.

  She’d been so focused on her studies that when Reuben had started to show an interest in her, and invite her on dates, she’d been quietly flattered.

  After a few months of his endless attention she’d started to believe it was real. He’d invited her to his home and she’d been dazzled. When he’d asked about her family she’d made excuses.

  It shamed her now to think about it, but she’d felt pressurised to fit in. She’d got along with the rest of her colleagues. Duc, Khiem and Hoa’s son, had also been in her class. He’d been great, and he’d seemed to understand that she was trying to keep things quiet about her background. He’d never judged, or commented. Just kept gracefully silent. For that, she’d been eternally grateful.

  Two years along it had been inevitable things would come to a head.

  She’d noticed that Rueben had started to attend more and more events within his mother’s elite circle—where Lien had felt distinctly uncomfortable. One night they’d been socialising with colleagues and he’d made some comments about those born in the ‘wrong places’, and she’d asked him to define exactly where he meant.

  He named a few districts with a gesture of his hand—one of those districts had been hers. She hadn’t waited. She’d exploded then and there, asking him what exactly was wrong with people from that district and not waiting for his answer before she’d told him that was where she had been born, and where her parents still lived.

  The table had been shocked into stunned silence.

  She’d realised what she’d done by the looks on some faces, but she hadn’t been sorry. When she’d grabbed her bag to leave, Duc had joined her, along with a few other colleagues.

  Two hours later she’d received a text from Reuben saying it might be better to break up. Even though she couldn’t have agreed more, it hadn’t stopped angry tears from spilling down her cheeks. The next day she’d discovered he’d transferred out of some of her classes.

  She hadn’t needed any more messages. He’d been embarrassed by her, and she’d been furious with him. She’d avoided him ever since.

  He gave her an amiable smile. ‘How about we look at these files together? You can fill me in on some of these patients.’ He gestured towards the chairs.

  Lien pressed her lips together. She should do this. She should do this for her patients. They had to come first, no matter how much she didn’t want to be in his company. That was her problem—not theirs.

  Once a week for the next four months wasn’t actually enough. But it was more than he’d originally promised and it was a start. For now, she’d take it.

  As she sat stiffly in the chair next to him, he gave her another half-smile. ‘Oh, don’t think I haven’t noticed. The other doctor, the Scot...is there something going on between you two?’

  Her breath caught somewhere in her throat. She wasn’t quite sure how to answer that question—she was caught totally off guard. But his words made old memories and feelings flood to the surface.

  Feelings of how inadequate Reuben had made her feel. Would she feel that way around Joe too?

  ‘Nothing’s going on,’ she said quickly. ‘We’re colleagues. I’ve been showing him around, helping him get settled in. That’s all.’

  Reuben gave her a knowing nod. It was clear from his expression he wasn’t buying anything she was saying. ‘Okay,’ he replied simply as he pushed the first set of case notes towards her. ‘Let’s start here.’

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  TWO WEEKS LATER, Joe and Lien headed to Uông Bí hospital to provide some holiday cover.

  The car journey only took a few hours, with them mainly entertained by Regan singing at the top of his voice to the selection of songs he’d picked for the trip.

  As they passed lush green hills with gorgeous scenery, Joe let out a sigh. ‘This place is more like Scotland than I ever imagined possible.’ He smiled and turned his head towards Lien, who was concentrating on the road ahead. ‘I think it would surprise you. You should come and see it sometime.’

  There was an odd silence for a few seconds. One that he wanted to fill. ‘Ever thought about coming to Scotland to work for a while? You tried Dublin, didn’t you? I bet we can be more hospitable. You should give us a try.’

  Her jaw tightened, as did her hands on the steering wheel. ‘I’ve done my travelling,’ she said. ‘I’m happy just to stay here now.’

  Joe leaned towards her, his enthusiasm catching fire as he sta
rted to imagine showing Lien around the sights back home. ‘You would love it. There are a few islands with cottage hospitals that you might like, or you could come and work in Glasgow with me. There are always positions for doctors.’ He shot her another sideways glance. ‘And we have plenty of space. You could stay with me and Regan.’

  She shook her head as she drove. ‘Nice offer, but I’m happy here. I don’t want to work anywhere else. This is where my heart is.’

  She said the words with an edge of determination. His stomach flipped. Where her heart was. Did that mean there wasn’t room for anything else?

  The thought was probably ridiculous, but as the seed grew in his mind he became even more enthusiastic about Lien coming to Scotland. He was sure she could love it just as much as he loved Vietnam. With Regan due to start school in a few months, he had to return. Was it possible he might be able to persuade Lien to join them?

  ‘Glasgow and Hanoi aren’t that different.’ He gestured towards Regan in the back seat. ‘Our life here isn’t that different.’

  Lien looked surprised. ‘You’re on a totally different continent, treating people with conditions you’ve never came across before, and speak a totally different language. How on earth can you find anything the same?’

  He stared ahead and shrugged casually. He understood her points, but still felt the same. ‘Patients are patients, no matter where in the world you treat them. They have the same expectations of you—that you treat them competently, and fairly, without judging them. For me, the hours are more or less the same, I have somewhere for Regan that I trust, and I’m getting to do the job that I love. The same as you.’ He gave her a smile. ‘We’re not that different, you know.’

  Her eyebrows shot upwards. ‘We’re a world apart, Joe. You just don’t see it yet,’ she added with a hint of sadness in her voice.

 

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