LOUISE!
Daniel didn’t say it, just stared at the opening door and the woman walking into his room, his face tightening in disbelief as she paused in the doorway. He tried to convince himself that he must surely be hallucinating as he held back the name that was on the tip of his tongue, had been on the tip of his tongue for ages now. He was terrified of making even more of a fool of himself in front of his colleagues, of calling out her name only to watch his Louise morph into one of the regular nurses on the ward. So instead he blinked a few times, tried to convince himself that it wasn’t her—that surely it was the drugs or pain or anaesthetic causing his mind to play tricks.
It couldn’t be her!
He didn’t want it be Louise, not because he didn’t want to see her—hell, she was the reason he was here in Australia after all! He just didn’t want her to see him like this. Daniel dragged in a deep breath and forced himself to slam the window shut on memories that were starting to breeze in. Lying in a hospital bed, unwell and disorientated, and completely out of control.
It couldn’t be her, Daniel told himself again, because his Louise’s hair was shorter, her body slimmer, more girlish. This was a woman—all woman, he noted as she walked slowly towards him, a softer, more curvaceous version of Louise, her familiar, fresh scent dusting his nostrils, mocking him, reminding him again of the relationship he’d so abruptly discarded, those gorgeous, chocolate brown eyes he had known so well staring once again into his. As her voice reached his ears, finally he succumbed—it really was her.
‘Louise.’ For what had seemed the longest time as she had walked in to the room, he had said nothing, just stared at her as if he was seeing a ghost. Louise was magnanimous enough to acknowledge to herself what a huge shock this must be for him. He was struggling to sit up now, a muscular arm grabbing the bar that hung above the bed, his face grimacing in pain at the sudden movement. Even in the darkened room she could see the lean muscular lines of his body as his untied gown fell off his shoulders.
‘God, I thought I was seeing things for a minute. What are you doing here?’
‘Working.’ She gave a tight smile. ‘But given I’m the one who’s from Australia, shouldn’t I be asking that question of you?’
‘I thought you lived out in the country…’ He was in obvious pain and if it had been anyone else, without hesitation she’d have moved to help, would have told him to sit forward as she shifted the pillows scattered behind him into a supportive cushion, but she was frozen to the spot in the middle of the room.
‘I did,’ Louise responded stiffly, but something inside her gave in then, the nurse in her so ingrained that she made her way over, flicked on the overhead light, straightened his pillows, pulled his gown back up over his shoulders then retied the ribbons at the back. Somehow she managed not to touch him or acknowledge the grateful nod as he rested back. ‘What did you want?’ When he didn’t answer, she elaborated. ‘You buzzed—is there anything I can help you with?’
‘Forget that.’ He let out a stunned, incredulous half-laugh. ‘I haven’t seen you in over a year. Surely—’
‘Surely what?’ Her eyes challenged him to continue. ‘Surely there must be something to talk about? Surely we have some catching up to do?’
‘Louise?’ His voice was groggy, his pupils constricted from the undoubtedly generous amount of opiates he’d been given post-operatively, and for a sliver of time she actually felt sorry for him. The poor guy had had two rounds of surgery after all, and to wake up to the vengeful face of one’s ex wasn’t exactly the ideal scenario. But her sympathy lasted about two seconds. Remembering what he’d put her through, the agony of the past few months, Louise was hard pushed to keep a malicious smile off her face as she thought of his injury—in the hell of a lonely pregnancy and birth it was one she’d dreamt of inflicting herself!
‘How’s your pain?’
‘Not too bad,’ Daniel said, but from his gritted teeth she knew he was lying. ‘I can’t believe this—I mean, you being here!’
‘On a scale of one to ten,’ Louise said, completely ignoring his personal comments and keeping things entirely professional, ‘how would you rate your pain?’
‘Louise,’ Daniel interrupted, ‘can we talk about us?’
‘Us!’ It was Louise now giving a shocked laugh as she shook her head. ‘I’ll ask again—on a scale of one to ten, how would you rate your pain?’
‘Five,’ Daniel said. ‘And no, I don’t want anything else for pain. Louise…’
She didn’t let him finish. Her only thought was to get out of the room and somehow attempt to process the fact in her shocked brain that Daniel was here, and it wasn’t going to be a fleeting meeting either—he was the consultant of the ward she was working on! She had to get away, had to work out how on earth she was supposed to deal with it.
‘I’m busy with another patient now.’ She attempted brisk and efficient but it came out rather too harshly and Louise corrected herself—reminding herself that even if it was Daniel, today he was a patient—that today, at least, he deserved her respect and care. ‘What did you buzz for?’
‘I wanted to find out how long it would be till my discharge meds are ready. I’m really keen to get home.’
Which was understandable, but from the slightly grey tinge to his face and the fact he was still on high-dose analgesics, Louise doubted he’d be going home any time that day. Still, she’d leave it for someone else to break that news to him, she decided. Right now, all she wanted was out.
‘I can’t answer that for you, Daniel. Elaine’s the nurse in charge and she’s the one allocated to look after you, but she’s busy with another patient right now. As soon as she’s done, I’ll let her know you were asking.’ Managing the briefest of smiles, she turned to go, but the drugs he was on must have weakened his usual staunch reserve because she hadn’t even reached the door before he called out to her.
‘That’s it? You’re just going to walk out like that? You’ve nothing else to say?’
She had nothing else to say—nothing that could be said, without breaking down anyway—twelve months of hell ripping through her as with the briefest shake of her head Louise walked out of his room, scarcely able to comprehend the appalling coincidence that had bought Daniel Ashwood back into her life.
‘What did Danny want?’ Elaine practically pounced on her as she walked out of the room—not that Louise noticed, her mind spinning at the shocking confrontation, stunned, appalled, terrified not just that he was here but that, despite all that had happened, despite all the dirty water under their bridge, somehow she still wanted him.
‘Louise,’ Elaine insisted. ‘What did Danny want?’
‘He wants to know when his discharge meds will be ready.’ Running a dry tongue over her pale lips, Louise forced herself to act normally. ‘I think he wants to go home.’
‘Well, he’s not going anywhere. The surgeons want him to stay for another twenty-four hours—I’d better go and break the news. Are you OK?’
‘I’m
