told himself silently not to rise to the bait. It was an old argument and there were no winners.
‘Well, you’ll just have to keep trying. Because she can’t come back here,’ Stephanie warned. ‘She’s your daughter, too, and it’s your turn to look after her.’
‘Yeah.’ Nate knew that asking his ex for help had been a long shot. Given that Stephanie had spent the last ten years hating him for letting her down, of course she wouldn’t make this easy for him now. And he knew that most of the fault was his. He hadn’t been there enough when Stephanie had been struggling with a demanding toddler, and he hadn’t supported her as much as he should have... It wasn’t surprising that she’d walked out and taken the baby halfway across the country with her.
Maybe he should’ve sucked it up and gone after her. Or at least moved closer so that access to their daughter wasn’t so difficult. Even though he had a sneaking suspicion that Stephanie would’ve moved again if he’d done that.
In the end they’d compromised, with Nate doing his best to support his daughter and ex-wife financially by working hard and rising as fast as he could through the ranks. He’d called Caitlin twice a week, trying to speak to her before her bedtime even when he was at work, and then as soon as video calling became available he’d used that—though Steph had made pointed comments about him being the ‘fun parent’ buying their daughter expensive technology. But without that he would’ve been limited to the odd weekend and visits in the school holidays. He hadn’t bought the tablet to score points or rub in the fact that he was making good money—he’d simply wanted to see his daughter as much as he could, even though they lived so far apart.
‘Thanks anyway,’ he said, hoping that Stephanie would take it for the anodyne and polite comment it was rather than assume that he was being sarcastic and combative, and ended the call.
Being a new single dad to a teen was the most frustrating, awkward thing he’d ever done in his life.
But he’d have to find a way to make this work. For all their sakes.
NATE HAD DARK shadows under his eyes, Erin noticed. And, although he was being completely professional with their patients, she could see the suppressed misery in his eyes.
I shouldn’t bring my baggage to work.
His words from the previous day echoed in her head. Right at that moment, it looked to her as if he was fighting a losing battle. Clearly whatever was bothering him had stopped him getting a decent night’s sleep.
OK, so he’d rebuffed her yesterday when she’d offered to listen. But that didn’t mean she should give up on him. Erin knew what it was like to be in a bad place—and she’d been lucky enough to have her best friend’s mother to bat her corner when she’d really needed it. Maybe Nate didn’t have someone in his life like Rachel. So maybe, just maybe, she could help.
Which would be a kind of payback. Something to help lessen the guilt that would never go away.
At the end of their rounds, she said, ‘Can we have a quick word?’
He looked confused, but shrugged. ‘Sure. What can I do for you?’
‘Shall we talk over lunch?’ she suggested. ‘My shout.’
He frowned, suspicion creeping in to his expression. ‘Is this anything to do with the sensory garden?’
‘Absolutely not. No strings,’ she promised. ‘A sandwich and coffee in the staff canteen. And no haranguing you about my pet project. Just something I wanted to run by you.’
‘OK. See you in my office at, what, half-past twelve?’ he suggested. ‘Though obviously that depends on our patients. One of them might need some extra time.’
She liked the fact that even though he was clearly struggling to deal with his personal life, he was still putting his patients first. ‘That’d be great. I’ll come and collect you.’
Erin spent the rest of the morning in clinic, and to her relief everything ran on time. Nate’s pre-surgery consultations had clearly also gone well, because he was sitting at his desk in his office when she turned up at half-past twelve.
‘I’ll just save my file,’ he said, and tapped a few buttons on his computer keyboard while she waited.
In the staff canteen, she bought them both a sandwich and coffee, plus a blueberry muffin, and directed him to find them a quiet table in the corner.
‘Cake?’ he asked when she turned up at their table.
‘Absolutely. Cake makes everything better,’ she said.
‘So what can I do for you?’ he asked, looking slightly wary.
‘Yesterday, you said that you didn’t know me.’
He winced. ‘Sorry. That was rude. I didn’t mean it to sound as mean as that.’
‘I’m not trying to make you feel bad about what you said,’ she said. ‘What I mean is that we all go through times when we can’t see the wood for the trees, and sometimes it helps to talk to someone who’s completely not connected with the situation—someone who might have a completely different viewpoint.’
He didn’t look convinced.
‘So I guess I’m repeating my offer from yesterday,’ she finished.
‘That’s very kind of you, but—’ he began.
‘Don’t say no,’ she broke in. ‘Just eat your lunch and think about it.’
‘Why are you being so kind?’ he asked. ‘Because you don’t know me, either.’
‘I don’t have any weird ulterior motive,’ she said. ‘It’s kind of payback. You know—what goes around, comes around. In the past, I was in a tough situation when I really needed to talk to someone. I was lucky, because someone was there for me. So now it’s my turn to be that person for someone else.’
‘As in me?’ He looked thoughtful. ‘Got you.’
Though she noticed that he still looked worried. And she could guess why. ‘For the record,’ she said gently, ‘I’m not a gossip. Whatever you say to me will go nowhere else. And right now I think you really do need to talk to someone, because you look like hell.’
He smiled, then. ‘And you tell it like it is.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s the easiest way. So just eat your cake and think about it, yes?’
* * *
Nate knew that he really didn’t deserve this. But, oh, it was so tempting to take up Erin’s offer. If nothing else, she might help him to see things from Caitlin’s point of view so he could understand what was going on in his daughter’s head. Since Caitlin had come to live with him, he’d never felt more alone.
He believed Erin when she said she wasn’t a gossip. He’d
