Chapter 19: Accidental Doctor Daddy: Chapter 19

I hadn’t realized how suffocating a New York winter could be until I spent the end of it locked inside with two premature newborns.

I loved my daughters, but the four walls were closing in.

So when I woke to a sunny sky and fifty degrees outside, I nearly cheered.

“All right, girls,” I announced, glancing between the two bassinets. “We’re going out for a day on the town, and I don’t care if the city crumbles. We are going to have some fun in the sun.”

Marissa stared me down like she didn’t believe me. Summer cooed, which I took as approval.

No one tells you that half of new-mom panic is trying to decode baby signals. Hungry, tired, wet—same noises, same faces. At least now, I knew Marissa liked to scream and Summer babbled like she was born to be a talk show host.

I wrestled them into jackets, which they hated with every fiber of their tiny beings, and by the time I finished packing the stroller and diaper bag, I was sweating like I’d prepped for Everest.

But the second we stepped outside, it was worth it.

Sunlight kissed my face, warm and bright after months of gray. “Welcome to the world, ladies,” I whispered, pushing them down the sidewalk. “By five, you’ll own this city.”

Chicago felt like a distant idea lately. Maybe I’d feel differently once I was back at work with space to think, but right now, my only mission was fresh air for the girls and caffeine for me.

The neighborhood was pure lower Manhattan—bustling, a little cramped, but charming in its chaos. I aimed for the small park up ahead, flanked by a corner café with outdoor seating. The perfect combo: sunlight, people-watching, and maybe a minute to breathe.

I snagged a table just outside the café door, parking the stroller so the twins had a clear view of me. My feet were killing me, but freedom tasted better than pain. When the server stopped by, I ordered a decaf cappuccino with a grin that probably read as unhinged. She didn’t question it.

Sunlight warmed my face, the breeze teasing loose strands of hair, and for the first time in weeks, I felt human again.

I let my gaze drift to the park across the street, where a dad boosted his daughter onto a jungle gym, both of them laughing under the clear sky.

The sight tugged at something inside me.

Dom.

Watching scenes like that used to gut me—equal parts awe and jealousy for the little girl inside me who never knew her father. Therapy helped, but some wounds don’t close; they just fade from angry red to faint scars you pretend aren’t there.

But seeing Dom with Summer? That had done something. The way his entire face softened, like she was his entire world. Or the breath he’d caught when leaning over Marissa’s bassinet, his awe plain as day. He was hooked—no question.

Part of me melted just thinking about it. My heart flipping like I was sixteen again.

And yet, another part of me stayed locked tight, colder. The part that whispered the truth I couldn’t outrun.

He’s Leo’s father, Ella.

For the millionth time, I wondered if I was just delaying the inevitable.

No matter how sweet the moment, that reality loomed. And every second I stayed silent, the harder it became to tell him the truth.

My cappuccino arrived, and I took a glorious first sip. Heaven. Well, about as heavenly as life got these days, considering my existence revolved around diapers and a dash of existential dread.

As I swirled the coffee in my cup, my phone buzzed. Carrie’s name flashed across the screen. I answered as fast as I could without spilling my cup of bliss. “Hey!”

“Hey, Mama,” Carrie teased, her voice crackling with warmth. “How are my favorite twins? And how are you?”

I watched Marissa’s tiny foot kick at the blanket while Summer seemed to be dozing off. “We’re good. I’m risking a walk in the sunshine.”

Carrie let out a soft laugh. “That’s what I like to hear. So, listen, I hate to be a workaholic tyrant, but I wanted to check in about your return. You mentioned maybe coming back by the end of the month?”

I’d known this conversation was coming. Carrie had been unbelievably kind with my leave—especially given the drama of my preterm labor. The preterm aspect threw things into chaos at the restaurant, I was sure of that. “Yeah,” I said, fiddling with my coffee sleeve. “End of the month should still be fine, if I can find a nanny.”

She hesitated, concern bleeding through the line. “I can give you more time if you need it. Suivante will survive, I promise.”

For a split second, I considered taking her up on it. But the restaurant was like oxygen to me—I missed the kitchen, the rush of prepping for service, the dance of plates and staff. And I didn’t want to exploit Carrie’s generosity. “No, it’s okay. I can’t hide forever, right? Besides, I need to feel like me again. I miss me.”

“We miss you, too. Hell, even in our visits, I haven’t heard you swear once. What’s up with that? You’re not turning all perfect mom on me, are you?”

I snorted a laugh and part of my cappuccino. After blotting and making sure I didn’t waste a drop of my life-affirming coffee, I realized she was right. I’d been almost G-rated lately. Weird. “Oh fuck no. Can’t really say why. Tired, I guess.”

“If you say so,” she teased. “But if I see you in makeup or high heels⁠—”

“Then my body was taken over by aliens and you should run and save yourself.”

Carrie laughed that way that I missed. “Will do. Just keep me posted on the nanny thing, okay?”

“You got it.” I set my phone down, heart thudding.

A nanny.

The word alone made me queasy. The idea of leaving my babies—my tiny preemies—in someone else’s care felt like handing my soul to a stranger.

But what other choice did I have? Dom had his own chaos, and I wasn’t about to rely on him full-time, especially not when we were…what were we, exactly?

I sipped my coffee again, letting out a breath. We’re nothing. We shared a past night of passion, a shocking revelation, and a pair of newborns.

And a hell of a lot of unanswered questions.

Yet, my hormones apparently decided to stage a rebellion, because just thinking about Dom’s dark eyes and that slow, devastating smile made me want to slam my cappuccino and sprint across town to see him.

The twins dozed, their tiny cheeks glowing pink in the sunlight. So peaceful. So perfect. So mine. And his.

That truth jabbed at me—sharper than I expected. I’d carried them, birthed them, but Dom? He was already hooked. Already ready to fight for them. And as much as I’d planned to do this alone, part of me liked that he wanted in. More than liked it.

But then the darker thought crept in. What happens when he finds out who you are to Leo?

I shoved it aside. Not today. One storm at a time.

I sipped the last of my coffee, sighed, and packed up. The twins were starting to stir—tiny fists wriggling free of their blankets.

“Alright, ladies,” I murmured, tucking them in tighter. “Sun time’s over. Let’s make it home before you launch a rebellion.”

I cast one last look at the dad in the park—the way he scooped up his giggling toddler like it was the easiest thing in the world. A pang of longing hit, but I rolled my shoulders back. My path wasn’t easy. It never had been.

But it was mine.

And if Dom wanted to walk it with me? Maybe—just maybe—I’d let him try. Once I survived going back to work. Once I figured out how to protect my girls. Once I decided what the hell to do with this ticking-time-bomb of a secret burning a hole in my chest.