Page 50 of Accidental Doctor Daddy

I didn’t want to be here. Not in this quiet apartment. Not alone.

I wanted to be across town, where two tiny daughters were probably stirring for their first milk, and where Ella—tired but resilient—was starting her day.

But I wasn’t there. I was here, alone, because…well…Ella and I hadn't agreed on anything.

My career was also important. The hospital administrator job was hanging in front of me like bait, and any sign of distraction would give Bowan the edge.

Still, as I stepped into the shower and cranked the water hot enough to sting, the images followed me. Ella’s tired smile. Marissa’s tight grip on my pinky. Summer’s soft breathing against my chest.

I clenched my jaw and let the heat bite into my skin.

Focus. Handle today.

The rest could wait.

By the time I stepped out, the mirror was nothing but fog. I swiped it clear with one hand and stared myself down. The silver at my temples had been there for years, a sharp contrast to the dark strands still holding on. My body was still solid—broad shoulders, a chest that could handle a fight or a full shift on my feet. But the eyes staring back at me?

They’d seen a lot. Done a lot.

And now, they were asking the same question I couldn’t shake.

Am I really ready to be a dad again?

The wind clawed at my tie as I crossed the parking lot. Inside, the hospital hit me like muscle memory—fluorescent lights, antiseptic air, controlled chaos.

“Morning, Dr. Mortoli.” A nurse handed me a chart as I scanned the triage board. Gunshot wound. Stroke. Panic attack. Business as usual.

I dove in, head down, moving from bay to bay, treating, diagnosing, keeping everything professional. But every quiet second, my mind drifted to that apartment across town. To two newborns and the woman fighting through the fog alone.

By noon, hunger slammed into me. I ducked into the lounge, unwrapped a protein bar, but appetite wasn’t in the cards. Not today.

Because no matter how hard I tried to lock it away, the memory of Ella was right there.

The kiss.

Soft, hesitant at first. Then deeper. Real. The way her breath had caught, the way her fingers had curled into my shirt. It wasn’t just heat. It was need. Hunger. The same as mine.

The taste of her was still on my lips, distracting me every damn second.

I was in the middle of unwrapping the bar when a nurse flagged me down. “Dr. Mortoli, we need you in bay four.”

I sighed and tossed the bar onto the counter, hurrying to bay four, where a post-op patient was having complications.

Even now, as I scanned the vitals, my mind wandered back to the weight of Ella against me. The way she’d trembled, like part of her still wanted me—despite the walls she kept building.

And just like that, I was wrecked all over again.

I needed to get my head on straight. I had work to do, patients depending on me, and a rival waiting to eat me alive.

But all I could think about was going back to that apartment. Back to her.

My mind lagged a fraction of a second behind. That fraction was all it took.

“Dr. Mortoli, you there?” a voice asked.

I blinked back to reality. “Hmm? What?”

“Wrong dosage.” A nurse smiled as he reminded me.

---