Page 66 of Prognosis So Done

‘I don’t care,’ he said.

Harriet was lost for words. She couldn’t move on with her life until she and Gill were divorced. His little trick just delayed the process a little more. ‘Gill —’

‘Shh!’ he interrupted noisily. ‘Be quiet. I have things to

say.’

Harriet blinked at his forcefulness, her foggy brain slow to object before he was off again.

‘This last day has been hell. My grandfather...Nimuk... Peter...Gillian...you.’

Yes. As far as last days went, this one had really sucked.

‘But when I was inside you and there was so much blood and

I thought I was going to lose you...’ His voice broke for a moment and he cleared it to continue. ‘That was the absolute rock bottom for me. I knew in amongst all the blood was my baby. Our baby. And this paternal instinct came out of nowhere and I was so sad. I saw you with Nimuk and with Gillian and I knew. I just knew that my destiny was to have a baby with you.’

Harriet stared at him, grappling to assimilate this new information.

‘All the years of denial,’ he continued, ‘and arguing just paled into insignificance. Losing our baby was the one thing that made me realise that I wanted to have a baby more than anything. And not any baby, Harry. Your baby. Our baby.’

What?No... It was too much to take in. Harriet felt suddenly like he was speaking to her in a foreign language and yet still, her heart jumped at his words despite everything that had gone before.

‘No,’ she said.

‘Yes.’ He nodded. ‘You told me yesterday that I had to want a baby so badly that it hurt to breathe. That my arms ached at the thought of not having one. You said I had to want one with every fibre of my being. Every cell. And I do, Harry. With every cell in my body I want a baby.’

Harriet blinked back tears at the passionate words. But still she rejected them. ‘No, Gill. Even if I believe what you just said, what about your job? Your career? I won’t subject my child to a part-time father.’

‘I don’t want to be a part-time father, Harry. I want to be a hands-on, completely doting father.’

Harriet brutally clamped down on the part of her that was foolishly rejoicing. ‘No. You don’t.’

He gave a half laugh. ‘Yes. I do.’

‘Gill...’

Harriet sighed, letting out the breath she had been

holding, one that had expanded as her crazy mind had run off with the possibilities Gill had filled it with.

‘Look...you lost a child tonight.’ Her voice was strong because despite how much her throat hurt, she knew what she said next would be vitally important. ‘You had a big scare. But you’re a brilliant surgeon and sooner or later you’ll get itchy feet and want to be amongst it all. And you should be. This is what you do best. You’d end up hating me, Gill. I don’t want to be married to a man who resents me.’

He shook his head. ‘Harriet...no. Sure, I love my work. But not to the exclusion of everything else. I’ve been neglecting my family. Henri’s heart attack made me realise that while I’ve been gallivanting around the world, I’ve barely had time for family. My parents, my grandfather, they’re not young any more. I can go into administration. Vic has been trying to lure me into MedSurg management for years.’

Victoria Johnston, the Australasian director of MedSurg, had

been wooing Gill for a long time. She had seen him as the perfect candidate to manage the different surgical programmes. She’d wanted someone with grass-roots experience, who could troubleshoot and see the bigger picture prior to sending teams in at ground level.

Harriet was horrified. ‘A desk job? No, Gill. No. You’d hate it!’

‘Actually, I wouldn’t,’ he said with conviction, like he’d already thought about the possibilities. ‘It’d be a challenge.’

Harriet shook her head, a rush of tears threatening again. She wanted him to want a baby, but not like this. ‘What about surgery, Gill?’

‘What about it?’

‘Won’t you miss it?’

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