to account for your mood.’
‘It’s not very twenty-first century to ask a woman—’
‘I don’t care.’
‘Yes, Leo,’ Lizzie duly said. ‘I have raging PMS, of course that’s what’s wrong.’ She pulled her hands away and opened the door. ‘I’ll see you at work.’ She heard the lift and guessing it could well be Ethan she headed for the stairs, but Leo halted her.
‘You’re not, are you?’
And she looked at him, a man who, no doubt, could not think of anything worse.
‘No, Leo. I’m not pregnant. Your carefree days aren’t over.’
She loathed the breath he let out and the relief in his eyes at her answer and ran down the stairs as if someone was chasing her.
Something was.
Lizzie stepped onto the street and the tears she’d been holding back tumbled out there and then. So much for dressing for the commuters. There was a mad woman sobbing as she walked, because, of all the stupid things to go and do, she was head over heels in love with him.
Real love.
A few weeks in and despite her best efforts not to she was thinking stupid things—like a life with Leo, and babies and having that heart to herself. And it was stupid, it was mad, and she’d waited this long because she wanted Mr Right.
She’d just never known Mr Right would also be Mr Completely Wrong and Never Want to be Tied Down.
It wasn’t his fault.
Leo was who he was.
She just happened to love him.
IT WAS A bad day at the office.
Leo and Ethan were bunkered down in Leo’s office for most of the day but the tension from behind the door seemed to seep out and attach itself to everyone.
Rafael looked almost grey as he dashed back between theatre cases to check on a child who had a post-operative fever. Lizzie was trying to calm the mother down more than the baby when a grim-faced Rafael pulled her aside.
‘I asked you to tell her to take the baby over to the Lighthouse for me to examine him.’
‘I know that,’ Lizzie said, ‘but she thought I said we would see him here and then, if needed, transfer him to hospital. It was a simple miscommunication.’
Lizzie could see he was holding onto his temper—a simple miscommunication, with Rafael’s heavy operating list, was something he simply did not need. On top of that he had a wife in America and a very sick baby of his own to worry about.
‘Will you give him his first dose of antibiotic and arrange for him to be admitted?’ Rafael asked.
‘Of course,’ Lizzie said. ‘Rafael …’ She wanted to ask how things were but Leo had said not to and she saw too the warning in Rafael’s eyes for Lizzie not to go there so she changed what she was about to say. ‘I am sorry for the mix-up.’
His anger dimmed then and he gave a small nod of thanks for her about turn and gave a wry smile and Lizzie saw a glimpse of the real Rafael—gorgeous, passionate, and terribly Italian. He apologised for his non-outburst with his smile and his eyes. ‘That’s not a problem—it was a simple miscommunication.’
It was more of the same all day. Ethan left looking boot-faced and then Leo headed over to Kate’s, where he had surgery scheduled into the evening, but he did stop by her office to say goodbye.
‘I don’t know what happened this morning.’
Lizzie looked up at him.
‘I think …’ He just looked at her and she looked back at him—a man who didn’t hang around waiting for the rows to start, a man who saved work for work, not relationships.
‘Maybe it’s better not to think sometimes,’ Lizzie said.
Leo nodded.
He didn’t want to think about that morning’s row, he didn’t want to acknowledge they’d lain in his bed together but apart last night, bristling with rancour—like some miserable married couple who saved sex for birthdays and anniversaries.
It was just one night, he reasoned.
Couples rowed sometimes.
He just didn’t want to be half of that couple that rowed sometimes.
‘That function I have to attend on Saturday,’ Leo said. ‘Lexi’s pushing for a response …’
‘I told you.’ Lizzie looked up at him. ‘I’m seeing my parents this weekend.’
Leo just looked at her. ‘These things are bad enough at the best of times,’ he attempted, ‘without having to go alone.’ He was trying to keep his voice even, what the hell was the point of having a plus one if she couldn’t even attend? What the hell was the point in committing to a relationship if she was never around?
And Lizzie looked at him. Why should she drop her visit to her parents for a man who was going to drop her any time soon?
It was unsustainable.
The both knew it.
‘Come over tonight,’ Leo said, but she shook her head. ‘Come over,’ Leo repeated. ‘You know that we need to talk.’
‘Talk, then.’
‘We can’t here.’
She blew out a breath and nodded. They had to work together after all so they had to end it, and neatly.
Nicely.
Lizzie did consider just heading home, maybe they should write today off as a bad one, yet she knew it was more than that.
Cracks were appearing and Leo wasn’t one for papering over them, whereas she had the sudden image of her rushing around with a trowel in a frantic attempt to repair them before everything was broken.
It had to be over, Lizzie knew that.
How, though?
How did you end something so wonderful just because you knew it couldn’t last?
Wait till it’s horrible, wait till the rows start?
They were almost there.
Lizzie took the lift up to his flat and as she stepped out she blinked as she saw a huge bunch of roses and chocolates there and was reminded just how very nice Leo could be—that in the middle of a very long day he had taken the time to think of her.
Of them.
