Page 90 of Dr. Single Dad

Freedom. The word loops around my brain. I feel it all over my body, like I’ve shrugged off ten tons of weight and I’m floating. I have a sense of calm that I don’t remember ever feeling before. And it’s not about the money. Obviously, it makes life a lot easier.

It’s about the resolution.

The past is now all firmly in the past. I no longer feel like a victim of history. I’m not my parents’ daughter. I’m not my uncle’s victim. I’m just me.

As I type out a message on the family group chat, all I can think about is Dax and how happy he’d be for me in this moment.

I’mfreeto have the exact future I want, even if I don’t know precisely what it looks like yet. But suddenly, the storm in my mind settles, and at least part of the answer I’ve been searching for is crystal clear.

THIRTY-SIX

Dax

I open the front door of the Holford Road house that I’m still struggling to call home to find Zach and Ellie on my doorstep, holding up a bottle of champagne.

“Surprise!” Ellie says, beaming at me.

“Congrats, mate. You finally grew up and bought a house.”

“Oh yes, that’s the key signifier for me growing up—my real estate choices.” I smooth my hands over Guinevere’s back, sleeping peacefully in the baby carrier strapped to my chest.

“Oh and the baby thing?—”

“Surprise!”

I nearly jump ten feet in the air as Mum and Dad appear at the door.

“Your father still can’t park a car,” Mum says.

I stand clear of the door while everyone files in. I’ve not had any visitors here yet. My family barely ever visited my place in Marylebone, which was too small to accommodate even a fraction of the Cove clan. That’s not a problem anymore.

“You’ve got a pool I hear?” Dad asks. “Let’s have a look.”

“You want a tour before coffee?” I ask.

Everyone gives a resounding yes and so we head to the basement.

“The nanny has her room down here. It gives her some privacy.” The new nanny is very…competent. Guinevere doesn’t seem to have any complaints. Neither do I. She knows what she’s doing and I leave her to it. When she’s working, I’m working; when I come home, I want time on my own with Guinevere.

Daddy-daughter time.

Coming home is my favorite part of the day. I still love my work. I still believe the research I’m doing will change lives. Only now, I’m a little more aware of the importance of my own life and how Guinevere is the most important part of it.

“I haven’t met her yet,” Mum says. “Is she nice?”

“Perfectly,” I reply.

“And what about Eira?” she asks. “Where’s she?”

The hushed silence makes me think everyone wants the answer to that question.

“Eira is…living with a friend in Finchley.”

My mum’s eyebrows rise as if she’s expecting me to elaborate.

I don’t. Because I don’t know if she’s coming back. I don’t know if she’s still figuring out what she wants or who she is. All I can do is wait. That’s what I said I would do, and I’m a man of my word.

“Shall we go and open that champagne?” I ask, turning and heading out of the pool room.

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