Page 91 of Accidental Doctor Daddy

Even if that wasn’t entirely accurate, it was how my nerves interpreted everything. It seemed like every time I glanced around, I caught someone exchanging glances or cutting off a sentence mid-conversation when I walked by. I felt like high school, except now, they had a reason to gossip about me. Maybe I was just paranoid. But I couldn’t shake the queasy sense that everything I did was under scrutiny.

At the heart of it, though, my biggest worry was Leo. I had no direct knowledge of how he was handling any of this—Dom refused to spill details about their blowout, but the few things he let slip told me it wasn’t good. Leo had stormed out, shut Dom down, and apparently avoided even his sister, Gina.

It was easy to figure out that my involvement made it worse. It’d be one thing if Dom had gone through the steps of accidentally starting a new family with someone else. I was sure that would upset Leo and Gina enough on its own. But adding me into the mix was pouring bleach into the wound. I could almost feel Leo’s anger on the horizon, pressing in, even though we hadn’t spoken in over a year.

If that wasn’t enough to gnaw at my conscience, there was also Gina to consider. I’d never met her—only heard Dom talk about how brilliant she was, how proud he was of her interior design success. Part of me yearned to meet her, to prove I wasn’t some manipulative vixen who hopped from son to father.

But another part was terrified she’d despise me on principle. She and Leo were siblings.Of course, she’d take her brother’s side,right? In her place, I probably would. The thought haunted me, leaving a sour pit in my stomach.

I tried to bury the anxiety by focusing on work at Suivante, but that brought its own brand of misery. Carrie, once my steadfast boss and friend, had become increasingly chummy with Winner, the “temp” who acted more permanent by the day.

I’d look up from my station to see Carrie and Winner laughing over some new labeling system, or reorganizing a shelf side by side, or discussing menu ideas with enthusiastic nods. Meanwhile, I’d stand off to the side, feeling like an outsider in the very kitchen I used to run.

I couldn’t shake the sense that Carrie looked at me differently now—like she was reevaluating my reliability. Sure, she’d forgiven me for lying about Dom at first, but I sensed a hint of reservation in her eyes whenever we talked. Maybe it was my imagination, or maybe it was real. Either way, her newfound closeness with Winner stung.

“Carrie’s only worried about Seth stirring up trouble,” I told myself, stepping outside for a breather one afternoon. She’dmentioned how Dom’s fatherhood might become a weapon in Seth’s rivalry. The board might see Dom as too distracted.

At home, things weren’t much better. The nanny, Amanda, was an angel with the babies—truly. She had them cooing and giggling like they never did for me. On one hand, I was grateful. On the other hand, it cut me deeply. Whenever I came in from work, she’d have them fed, changed, and happy, and I’d stand there with a forced smile, feeling a hollow pang in my chest.

Aren’t I supposed to be the one who soothes them?

But they spent so many hours with her that they’d naturally bonded. It was petty of me to be upset about that. I should have been grateful they were happy and flourishing under her care. But it still hurt.

I’d tried to reassure myself that I was doing the best I could—working to support the twins, and caring for them in the off-hours. But the guilt never left. I’d be at Suivante, mindlessly chopping vegetables, and my mind would drift to the twins.

They must be giggling with Amanda right now. Do they think she’s their Mom?

It was a lose-lose scenario. Stay home full-time, and I’d lose my career, not to mention the financial independence I clung to. I saw the parallels to Dom’s old struggle, the one that ended with Jodie’s illness going unnoticed. Dom had thrown himself into work, and tragedy struck. I didn’t want that for our daughters.Yet, ironically, it felt like I was following the same path.

It seemed like all I ever did these days was worry. The good news was I was a hell of a multi-tasker. Stirring a demiglace? I could worry while I stirred. Changing a diaper? Worrying didn’t interfere with that, either. Texting Dom? Worrying was a part of every letter, every emoji. As I rocked Marissa in the nursery, my heart aching at how seldom I got to do this, I couldn’t shake the question,am I making Dom’s life harder?

He was up to his neck in hospital drama, adult children issues, a brand-new fatherhood he never expected, and here I was, piling on my insecurities and the weight of my career. Staring at the pastel walls, I murmured to Marissa, “He must be exhausted.”

Her cooing response was an agreement. I was sure of that.

Leo’s meltdown or not, Dom was dealing with a lot. And I worried that if I wasn’t strong enough—if I kept pulling him in different directions—maybe I’d become another Jodie in his eyes. Someone he didn’t have time to see crumbling.

That thought cut so deeply I almost dropped Marissa. “Shh,” I whispered, pressing a shaky kiss to her soft head. “Mommy’s okay.” A lie if ever I told one.

Days turned into a blur of half-smiles at work and forced cheer at home. Dom would text me short updates—fewer than before, but occasionally sweet.

Missing you. Everything’s chaos. I’ll call tonight.

And sometimes he didn’t call, leaving me feeling like a rug had been yanked from under my feet. When we did manage a phone conversation, it was quick, overshadowed by beeping hospital machines or me checking on the twins in the background. We rarely addressed the big stuff. There was no time.

One afternoon, Carrie pulled me aside in the kitchen, Winner trailing behind her. “Hey, Ella,” she said, trying for a casual tone that didn’t fool me. “I understand things are tense for Dom at the hospital.”

My stomach sank. “Right,” I managed, wiping sweat from my brow with the back of my forearm. “But he’s handling it.”

Carrie nodded, expression concerned. “He’ll try, but you know Seth. He’s ruthless.”

A flush of anger prickled my skin, but behind it was guilt. “I appreciate the warning. But I’m sure Dom can handle Seth.”

Winner, standing a step back, gave me a tight smile. “Things are intense, huh?”

She was the last person on earth I wanted to hear from on the matter. I faked a shrug. “Yeah, well, that’s their world, not mine.” But the anxiety clung like a burr.

What if Dom is losing ground at the hospital because of me?

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