Page 14 of Single Daddy Doctor Dreamy

A knock at my door pulls me from my thoughts. Janet, one of the senior nurses, steps inside, her usual no-nonsense demeanor in full force.

“Dr. Anderson,” she says, placing a stack of reports on my desk. “You’ll want to review these before the meeting.”

“Thanks, Janet.”

She hesitates, her sharp eyes narrowing slightly. “Word of advice? Keep your focus. The board’s watching everyone closely right now.”

“Noted,” I say, keeping my tone neutral.

She leaves, and I’m alone again, the weight of her words pressing down on me. Focus. It sounds simple enough, but with Lucy occupying more and more of my thoughts, it’s anything but.

By the time I get home that evening, I’m exhausted. The boys are sprawled out on the living room floor, building some elaborate Lego masterpiece. Lucy is in the kitchen, quietly singing to herself as she stirs something on the stove. The sight of her, makes my chest tighten.

“Hey, Dad!” Miles calls, his eyes lighting up when he sees me. “We’re making a spaceship! It’s got lasers and everything!”

“Looks impressive,” I say, ruffling his hair as I walk past.

Lucy turns when I enter the kitchen, her smile bright and welcoming. “Hey. Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Smells great,” I say, leaning against the counter. For a moment, we just look at each other, the air between us thick with unspoken words. It’s a moment I’ve come to crave, and fear.

I clear my throat, breaking the spell. “I was thinking I’d take the boys out this weekend. Give you a break.”

Her smile falters, just barely, but enough for me to notice. “Oh. That… sounds nice.”

“Yeah,” I say, forcing a casual tone. “Maybe the movies, then dinner. Just some guy time.”

Turning back to the stove, she says, “Sounds like a good idea.”

But something in her voice tugs at me, a quiet note of disappointment she’s trying to hide. I tell myself I’m doing the right thing—giving her space, keeping things simple. Still, as I watch her move around the kitchen, I can’t shake the feeling that I’m making a mistake.

Saturday arrives, and the boys are buzzing with excitement. Lucy helps them get ready, her usual warmth shining through, but there’s a distance in her eyes when she looks at me. It’s subtle, almost imperceptible, but it’s there.

“Don’t let them eat too much junk,” she says, handing me Finn’s jacket.

“Got it,” I say, giving her a small smile. She returns it, but it doesn’t quite reach her eyes.

As we drive to the theater, the boys chatter nonstop, their enthusiasm infectious. I focus on them, letting their energy pull me out of my own head. For a few hours, I manage to forget about promotions, rumors, and the lingering ache of Lucy’s absence.

Dinner is equally lively, the boys’ laughter filling the restaurant as they recount the movie’s funniest moments. I watch them, my heart swelling with pride and gratitude. Thesetwo are my world, my reason for everything. And yet, as much as I cherish these moments, I can’t ignore the empty feeling without Lucy here beside us.

When we get home, the house is quiet. Lucy is curled up on the couch with a book, her hair falling in loose waves around her face. She looks up when we walk in, her smile soft but distant.

“How was it?” she asks, her voice light.

“Great,” Miles says, bounding over to her. “We saw the coolest movie, and Dad let us get popcorn AND candy!”

“Did he?” she says, raising an eyebrow at me.

“It’s the weekend,” I say with a shrug, earning a laugh from Finn.

As the boys head upstairs to get ready for bed, I linger in the living room, my eyes drawn to Lucy. She’s gone back to her book, but I can see the tension in her shoulders, the careful way she’s holding herself.

“Lucy,” I say softly.

She looks up, her expression unreadable. “Yeah?”

“Thanks. For everything you do. With the boys, with the house… with me. I don’t say it enough, but I appreciate you.”

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