Eva hurried from the staff locker room and headed for the cubicles.
She wanted to go home now!
HE HAD A SON? A son!
That little boy. Seb. He’d just been talking to him, taking care of him, and he’d not once suspected that he was his son.
But why would he? Just because the boy had had the same hair as him and the same eye colour...that didn’t mean he should have suspected at all...
Why the hell hadn’t Eva told him about Seb? Why had she kept him a secret?
He couldn’t bear that. Secrets were dangerous.
He had to talk to her. Find out more. Find out what had happened after he left.
Walking away from the Christmas tree, he headed back to the cubicles—only to find Eva there, putting on her coat and scarf.
‘Where are you going?’
‘Home. I can observe Seb there. I am qualified.’
‘He needs to stay here.’
She looked at him. ‘This is nothing to do with you. You don’t have to pretend to care.’
‘Seb is everything to do with me—and not just as his doctor. And I do care.’
Eva stared at him, and as he waited for her to say something Seb peeked at him over his book and smiled.
Jacob couldn’t help but smile back. Seb was a cute little guy.
Then he looked back at Eva. ‘You both need to stay. We need to talk.’
She shook her head. ‘I’m not ready for this right now.’
‘Tough. It’s happening.’
He dared her to defy him. If she chose to walk away right now, then he had no idea what he would say. He’d probably have to chase her until she gave up and headed back to A&E. But thankfully he didn’t have to do any of that.
Eva let out a big huff, and then removed her scarf and unbuttoned her coat. ‘Fine.’
Jacob let out a breath and his shoulders sagged down. He hadn’t realised how tense he’d been. He couldn’t help but look at Seb now.
He looked tall for a three-year-old. Like himself, he supposed. He could remember his mum saying that he’d always been tall for his age. Then again, Eva wasn’t short, either. But now, the more he looked at his son the more he could see himself in the little boy. Seb’s eyes were the same shape and colour as his, he had the same wavy hair, the same shaped mouth...
It was like looking at a mini-me.
And he was three years old...
Three years that he had missed out on. Three years of important milestones—his first word, his first steps, his first tooth, his first Christmas!
I’ve missed everything. Birthdays and Christmases...
How had he not known about his own son? More important, why had Eva kept it from him? For three years! The last woman who had kept a secret from him had almost destroyed him.
Jacob called for one of the healthcare assistants to sit with Seb. ‘Don’t let him out of your sight,’ he said, then guided Eva into the staff room and slammed the door closed behind them.
Three years! I’ve had a son for three years and she never told me!
Fury and rage that he’d never thought it possible for one human being to contain filled his body, making it quake, and he had to grit his teeth to try to bring it under some form of control.
‘What the hell have you done?’
She looked up at him, her eyes wide and defiant as a solitary tear dribbled down her face. Even crying she was beautiful, and he hated her for that. Why couldn’t she look wretched? Why couldn’t she look awful, as if she were suffering for the pain she’d caused him?
He recalled Michelle standing in front of him, crying, begging for his forgiveness...
‘I’ve done nothing wrong.’
He looked at her, incredulous. ‘Nothing wrong?’
‘I’m raising a boy on my own and I’m doing a damned fine job, thank you very much!’
‘Oh, I’m sure that you are—but what about me? Did you not think our son deserved a father?’
‘Of course I did!’
A horrible thought occurred to him. ‘Are you with someone else? Is another man raising my child?’
She shook her head. ‘No.’
‘Then, why didn’t you find me and tell me?’
‘I tried! Believe me, I tried! But I only had your name, and I knew you were going to work for a charity in Africa. I had no way to track you down.’
‘Did you even try?’
She wiped the tear from her cheek. ‘Do you know how many charities do work in Africa? Do you know how much research that would have taken?’
‘You could have asked my friends from the party! They would have known!’
‘I did! They told me you were working with Change for Children, but when I contacted them, they told me you’d already left!’
He stared at her. It was true. He had worked for them, but only for a little while. And then he’d met that doctor working for a different charity and he’d gone with him, hoping to assist with an eye clinic...
Had he told anyone? Had he told anyone the specifics of where he was going next? He couldn’t remember. Surely he must have said something? But even if he had, would she have been able to track him down? He’d still been running then. He would not have left a way for himself to be traced by his family...
Was all this his fault? If he’d only thought to leave a forwarding address... Only he hadn’t, had he? Because he’d been trying to avoid his family tracking him down and sending him letters, bothering him with all their worry and their ‘Are you all right?’ and ‘Are you coming home?’
He’d always assumed that when the time came he would be there for his children. As his father had been for him. He’d imagined what it might be like to hold his baby in his arms... And Eva had had his child, not found him to tell him about it, and his own son had been without him for three years. If he’d known he wouldn’t have stayed in Africa for so long...or even gone there in the first place!
Words couldn’t adequately describe how angry he felt right now.
And for it to be Eva who had done this to him. The woman who had sashayed into his life one night, blown his mind and made him feel more alive than he’d felt in a year! The woman who’d filled his dreams for many a night subsequently. The woman who’d made him regret leaving England. The woman he’d thought about coming back home for.
He’d never have expected that she would do this to him!
‘So...what does Seb know about me?’
She folded her arms. ‘Nothing yet. He’s too young to have asked about his dad. I had planned, when the time came, to tell him that you were in Africa, with no means of communication.’
‘Africa...’
He’d loved it there. It had been such an education for him—would have been for any doctor—to go from a high-tech medicalised hospital to work in a ramshackle, dusty