Pregnant By The Single Dad Doc. Louisa Heaton

covering her intestines, and she knew that after the surgery she would remain in NICU for several weeks. The intestines had been floating in amniotic fluid for months, so they would be swollen and not working very well. The baby would only be discharged once she was taking feeds well, putting on weight and excreting normally.

      The surgery today was to insert the last remaining part of the intestines, remove the silo pouch and repair the defect that had caused the gastroschisis in the first place.

      She was just putting her clothes into a locker when one of the nurses entered.

      ‘Hi, it’s Ellie, right? Clare. Very pleased to meet you.’ Clare shook her hand. ‘Is this your first surgery?’

      ‘My first on this placement.’

      ‘You’ve done some before? That’s good. So I don’t have to worry about you fainting, then?’

      Ellie smiled. ‘No.’

      ‘Dr Riley is a good surgeon. He’ll teach you a lot.’

      ‘He already has.’

      There must have been something in her tone, because Clare cocked her head to one side.

      ‘Do you know each other?’

      ‘From years ago. We knew each other when we were young.’

      ‘Oh. Right. What was he like back then? Still handsome?’

      Ellie tried not to smile, but couldn’t help it. ‘Oh, yes.’

      ‘I knew it. I bet every girl in school was after him.’

      ‘I only met him at college, doing A levels.’

      ‘The wild years, huh?’ Clare stripped out of her clothes and got into a set of scrubs. ‘Before he settled down?’

      Ellie looked at Clare. He’d ‘settled down’? What did that mean? Was he married? Living with someone? For some strange reason the knowledge was disappointing. Almost upsetting. But what had she expected? That he was still single? She guessed she might have assumed he’d be with someone, but as she hadn’t known for sure it hadn’t hurt. But now...? Now that she was being told for definite...? Well, that was an entirely different beast.

      She didn’t want to appear to Clare as if she didn’t know, so she went along with it. ‘Yeah.’

      ‘It’s kind of sweet how he goes to eat lunch with Rachel when he can.’

       Rachel. She’s called Rachel.

      Ellie slowly wrapped up her hair and placed it inside a surgical cap carefully, taking her time as she allowed this new nugget of knowledge to seep into her brain.

       Rachel.

       He meets her for lunch as often as he can.

       That’s kind of romantic. They must love each other very much.

      And she felt jealous. A sudden wave of jealousy hit her smack in the solar plexus, making her feel almost dizzy and faint with the strength of it. Jealous that he had someone to love. Jealous that he had someone he could wrap his arms around and hold. Jealous that someone else now held the heart she herself had once thought was hers.

      ‘Yes. It’s very sweet,’ she said, thinking it was anything but.

      * * *

      He could feel her watching him. Those wide blue eyes were watching his every move from over her surgical face mask. He felt tempted to look up and see, but after his lunch with Rachel and her questions about breaking someone’s heart he felt guilty about doing so. He knew exactly how he’d broken Ellie’s.

      Luckily there was an operation to concentrate on: getting the last of Baby Darcy’s intestines back into her body and the hole in her abdominal wall repaired. This would hopefully be her final surgery and would get rid of the horrible silo bag that she’d had attached to her since birth.

      ‘How was Rachel?’ she asked.

      His hands paused. How the hell did she know about Rachel? He hadn’t told her a thing. Had she spotted him at lunchtime with his daughter? Or was this just a case of the damned hospital grapevine at work? Probably the latter. However, he still felt irritated by it. That he hadn’t been the one to tell her. And this was hardly the place to be bringing up something so damned personal!

      ‘I’m not sure that’s what we need to be concentrating on right now, Miss Jones.’

      There and then he knew there was a change in the atmosphere in the operating room. Knew that those around him were all looking at him with questioning glances. Because normally he was happy to talk about his daughter and her progress. He was proud of Rachel.

      He met her gaze. ‘I’m sorry—that was rude of me. Rachel was very well, thank you.’

      The tension eased somewhat and he continued with his work, even though he still felt bad. And he’d called her Miss Jones. Talk about creating an issue when there didn’t need to be one! Now she’d probably spend the rest of the day calling him Dr Riley rather than Logan. He needed to change that. And quickly.

      ‘Can you see what I’m doing here, Ellie? More light, please,’ he instructed the theatre technician, standing to one side.

      Ellie moved forward to see better.

      ‘What are the complications of a silo—do you know?’

      ‘Er...infection and fascial dehiscence.’

      ‘Good. You’ve been reading up.’ He looked up at her and smiled. ‘On your lunch break?’

      He was pleased to see her eyes crease at the corners, indicating a smile back.

      She nodded. ‘Best time to cram.’

      ‘Removing the silo now... What are we looking for?’

      ‘We’re checking that the bowel looks healthy.’

      ‘Yes. I’m going to stretch the defect now, to reduce this final section of bowel.’ He carefully placed his fingers inside the defect, checking all around, before pushing the last of the bowel inside. ‘Ellie would you like to irrigate the bowel and abdomen?’

      She nodded quickly and he could tell that she was grateful to do something towards the surgery.

      He organised the skin for closure, starting opposite the umbilicus, sealing off small bleeds with the cautery and separating the fascia, explaining what he was doing and why.

      ‘I’m creating a purse string suture. Irrigate the wound again, please.’ Good. She was doing well. Her hands were steady and sure. No hesitation. ‘Now I’ll make a new umbilicus.’ He created another purse string on the outer skin.

      ‘It’s so quick,’ she said, glancing up at the clock. ‘Barely twenty-five minutes.’

      ‘And Baby remained stable throughout, which is the best thing,’ he said, stepping away from the table and pulling off his gloves. ‘How did you find that, Ellie?’

      She pulled off her surgical mask as they went into the scrub room and her face was a mask of awe and wonder. ‘Amazing! You made it look easy.’

      He basked in her praise. ‘You might be doing it yourself one day.’

      Ellie nodded. ‘Maybe.’

      ‘Have you decided on a specialism yet?’

      ‘I’m not sure. I’d like to do transplants—I know that.’

      That was a good choice—though he was a little disappointed she didn’t want to choose his speciality. ‘General surgery? That’s good.’

      ‘You sound like you don’t approve.’

      ‘I do. Is that because of your dad?’ Her father had had a heart transplant; he remembered that.