Page 104 of Accidental Doctor Daddy

“Right,” I answered, voice low. “I’m…proud of what we accomplished.” I’d built this company from scratch, forging prototypes in a small lab, stepping away from my family to push my inventions forward. Now, I was handing it over like a used car, albeit a very profitable one.

Financially speaking. But as much as I loved this company, it took me away from what mattered most.

Though, I suppose that’s not the way to look at things. I took me away from them. Not a company, not the hospital. I did that. I let things get out of control.

No more.

The lawyers passed a stack of documents around. “We just need your signature on these forms to formalize the share transfer,” one said, pushing a pen toward me. “You’ll receive the final deposit by close of business.”

I nodded, glancing at the top page. The sum was staggering—enough for multiple lifetimes of comfort for me and every person I knew. I should have been ecstatic.Instead, my chest felt tight.I scribbled my name where indicated and repeated the gesture about half a dozen times until each slip of paper bore my final consent. The CFO’s eyes gleamed like he’d just closed the deal of his life. Maybe he had.

“Well,” the CEO said, rising with a broad grin. “That’s that. A new chapter for the company—and you. We’ll uphold your legacy, Dom, I promise.”

That was the deal we’d struck, one that guaranteed the company’s participation in several charities and university hospitals to bring medical technology to those who might not otherwise have access. It was my only stipulation for the buyout.

Polite claps followed our handshake. The rest of them stood, offering handshakes of their own. There was even a pat on my back. “Retiring so young, huh?” one board member teased lightly. “You’ll have to find a new hobby.”

“Young?” Hadn’t been called that in a while. “I’m almost fifty.”

“Retirement is quite an accomplishment at your age.”

“Yes,” I agreed quietly, returning his handshake. “I suppose so.” It didn’t feel like one, though. It felt like shedding an old skin. Uncomfortable, but necessary.

“We’ll handle press releases in the coming days,” the CFO added, guiding me to the door. “If you have any statements, let us know. Otherwise, enjoy your well-deserved rest.”

“Thanks,” I said, forcing a tight smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He pressed the elevator button for me, still beaming as if I should be celebrating. The doors opened, and I stepped inside. Before they slid shut, I caught a final glimpse of the CFO and CEO exchanging triumphant grins.They got what they wanted.The final chunk of my soul sold off for a fortune I wasn’t sure I even wanted.

Outside, I paused on the sidewalk. The Chicago wind nipped at my jacket even as spring was coming to a close. I was done here, but I had nowhere to go. My hotel was a mile away. My flight back to…well, I didn’t have one. This was a one-way flight, because I had no plans, no direction.

Once upon a time, I’d have killed for this moment: a huge windfall, no responsibilities. Now, all I felt was an ache for what I’d lost. Ella and the twins.

I’d tried to locate them, once. Hired a private detective to poke around, see if she’d actually gone to a Michelin-starred place, like Seth said. But it felt wrong—like I was invading her privacy. So I called it off before the detective did more than confirm Ella had left Manhattan. That was all I really knew.

I am officially retired.What do I do now?

I’d never realized how disorienting “freedom” could feel until the moment I stepped out of that boardroom. I walked for blocks, hands stuffed in my pockets, head bowed against the breeze. Skyscrapers towered above, the sun reflecting off steel and glass. Part of me admired the city’s mix of modern sparkle and old-world grit. Another part just felt numb. Untethered.

At some point, my stomach growled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten since a hurried breakfast. I glanced around, spotting a row of shops and cafes. One had a sign boastingOpen Kitchen—Fresh Cuisine.I cut across the street, letting the idea of a quick lunch distract me from the swirling emptiness in my chest.

Inside, the warmth of the restaurant enveloped me, along with the tang of spices and seared meats. My mouth watered from the scent alone. A hostess greeted me, and I followed her to a small table near the half-circle bar that let diners watch the chefs at work. The chatter of customers blended with the clink of utensils, the occasional hiss of a grill.

“Here you go,” she said, handing me a menu. “Your server will be right over.”

“Thanks,” I mumbled, shrugging off my coat. Scanning the menu, I frowned when a dish named Halekulani Chicken jumped out at me. My pulse gave an uncomfortable flutter at the association.Halekulani,that damned tropical drink that had changed my life. Was the universe mocking me? Still, something compelled me to order it, maybe a masochistic attempt to conjure her presence.

Back in Manhattan, I thought I’d seen her twice. Once in a boutique that she’d never have been caught dead in, and once at the bodega near Leonardo’s place. The bodega sighting went badly. My private detective had already told me that she’d left Manhattan, yet I couldn’t stop following that woman through the shop to make sure it wasn’t her. When she finally turned around, I realized she wasn’t Ella just in time for her to mace me right in the face.

I didn’t blame her. I was a strange man following her around a bodega. When I explained she looked so similar to the mother of my children and how she’d left me and taken our kids without warning, the woman bought me a black and white cookie to make up for macing me. It was a good cookie, but not that good.

A server slid up with a polite smile, took my order, and then vanished. I leaned back, glancing at the open kitchen. Several line cooks moved in a coordinated dance of plating and garnishing.Efficient,I noted absently, but it was a shadow of how mesmerizing it had been watching Ella. My heart twisted again, just as it did every time I thought of her or our girls.

The server brought water. I stared into it, half in a daze.Retired at fifty, alone, with nowhere to go.My phone felt heavier by the second, the detective’s card inside the case. If I called him now, he’d pick up the search where we left off. But that was the opposite of giving Ella space. And if she discovered I’d hired someone to track her? She’d never forgive me.

When the server returned with the Halekulani chicken, the sweet citrus aroma strangled me with nostalgia. I forced a bite, waiting for anger or sadness to subside. Instead, numbness blanketed me. At least I was feeding my body, even if my soul felt starved.

Then, about halfway through the meal, I saw movement at the edge of the open kitchen. A figure slid into view from behind a stack of boxes, briefly hidden by a large rack of pastries. My pulse spiked.

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