All up they were at the Rocky General for half an hour before leaving in the ambulance again for the airport and by seven a.m. they were pushing through the swing doors of the PICU. It was another hour before the patient was settled, notes were written, equipment packed away and they were ready to leave.
‘Come on,’ Nash said, catching her as she was about to get into her car. ‘I’ll buy you breakfast.’
She sighed. ‘No. Please. I’m really tired.’
Nash could see she was tired – hell, he was tired too - but he wanted this sorted. Now. ‘Yes,’ he insisted gently.
‘I can’t eat anything these days.’
Nash shrugged. ‘So I’ll eat and you can watch.’ He fished in the pocket of his Levi’s. ‘I have more gum.’
Maggie was about to say no again, get in her car and drive off but then he looked at her with those eyes and said, ‘Please, Maggie,’ and she folded like a deck of cards.
‘Fine,’ she huffed.
She followed him to a nearby café precinct and sipped on water while he tucked into a full English breakfast.
Plenty of those where he was going.
The thought of him leaving, of him being on the other side of the world eating authentic English breakfasts while she was here, with his child, loving him, was depressing as hell.
Nash placed his knife and fork on his empty plate and wiped his mouth on a napkin. His full stomach gave him fortitude to face the conversation they needed to have.
‘So...Where do we go from here?’ he asked. ‘Have you given any more thought to coming to London with me?’
Had she?
She’d thought of little else. And had she been ten years younger and a baby wasn’t involved she’d have jumped at it. Thrown caution to the wind and taken the biggest gamble of her life, hoping he would come to love her while accepting that he never might. But this wasn’t just about her any more.
She had the baby to think about.
‘I’m not going to live in London, Nash. I’m sorry, that’s just not an option.’ She wasn’t going anywhere for anything less than love.
Nash nodded slowly. It had been a long shot — she’d been so adamant the other day. He sighed heavily. ‘I understand.’
‘We’re just going to have to compromise. I know you feel it’s your duty to support the baby, right?’
Maggie held her breath, waiting for him to deny it. To hear him refute that it was a duty. To hear him say it was an act of love.
‘I’m the father,’ he said testily. ‘Of course it’s my duty to support the baby. And you, Maggie.’
Maggie felt another crack splinter the surface of her heart. ‘Well, then, we’ll work it out. Maybe for those first couple of years, while you’re overseas, you can contribute financially. As far as the baby’s concerned, they’re probably the best years to be away. It won’t be aware of you as a father figure until it’s much older.’
Nash rubbed his chin, the rough stubble pricking his palm. ‘I could try and be here for the birth.’
Maggie swallowed. Now, that would be hard. How was she supposed to keep emotional distance from him during something as intimate as giving birth to his child?
‘I could probably come back every few months.’
Maggie could see he was thinking hard about the possibilities and was relieved. She picked up her train of thought. ‘Of course,’ she agreed. ‘And these days there’s so many ways that we can keep in touch.’
‘You could visit me. Maybe? It wouldn’t be much of a picnic, dragging a baby halfway round the world, but I’d pay for you to come business class. I know you’re not keen to come to London...’
Maggie was touched by his thoughtfulness and that he was really trying to meet her halfway. She was fully aware he could have turned nasty. But she guessed that was the difference between duty and love.
It was easy to be removed when feelings weren’t involved.
‘I could probably do a holiday,’ she replied. ‘Depends on the baby, I guess. If he’s—’
‘He?’ Nash interrupted.
Maggie blushed and placed her hand across her belly. ‘Oh, sorry. I just...have a feeling.’
A son.
Maggie could be carrying his son. Nash’s gaze flicked to her hand splayed against her tummy. ‘Will you find out?’
She nodded. ‘Yes.’
He wouldn’t be here for that. Or to see her belly grow round. And he may well miss the birth. What other things would he miss out on?
First words. First steps.
‘I can send you the pictures from the ultrasound if you like. Hell we can FaceTime during it. In fact, we can FaceTime every day if you want.’ While her heart slowly broke. ‘You’ll probably see more of him than a lot of men do of their kids who live under the same roof.’
Nash considered it. Maybe she was right. It was only for the first couple of years. When he returned they could work out a better arrangement. Maybe she’d come back home with him. She might be willing to do that when he was back in the same country. There’d be nothing to stop her.
Unless...
A sudden thought sent a chill straight up his spine, needling into the base of his skull.
‘What if you meet someone else, Maggie?’ How would he handle another man being a father to his child?
Another man sharing her bed?
Maggie’s hand tightened against her stomach and she forced out a laugh. ‘That won’t happen.’
He frowned. ‘How can you be so sure?’
Because I love you, idiot! Because he’d ruined her for all men.
‘There’s no room left in here.’ She tapped her chest. ‘It’s full up with love for this little guy. Nothing’s more important than this.’ She patted her stomach. ‘No one’s ever going to take my focus off him. No one.’
Maggie wished she could wring the same commitment from Nash. The thought of all those English girls falling for his country-boy charm had her hovering between depression and jealousy. But that had been one of the perils of getting involved with a much younger man.
And she’d known it.
Nash was young and unattached — he was supposed to be out there, playing the field.
Nash blinked at the conviction in her voice. He believed her. Still, it sounded like a lonely life for her. And for a second he worried that Maggie was shutting herself off from life’s possibilities. But then, perversely, as a naked flame of jealousy scorched his veins, he didn’t care. He didn’t want to ever have to think about another man touching her like he had. To share what they’d shared.
It was horrendously selfish and he should be ashamed of himself. But he wasn’t. And he didn’t care.
The waitress brought the bill and Nash paid it as Maggie stood. ‘So? What do you think?’ she asked. ‘Do you think we’ve come to a reasonable compromise?’
Nash mulled over her question. The truth was it didn’t sit well with him. It still felt like he was shirking his responsibilities.
He doubted his parents would be impressed.
But, as she’d said, it was a compromise. He could hardly drag her to London when she didn’t want to go.
He had no doubt there was legal recourse but he knew if he forced her to do something she didn’t want to do, it could do irreparable damage to their relationship. And she was the mother of his child. It was in both their interests and particularly in the interest of his unborn son — oh, God he was doing it now — to keep things amicable.