A Surgeon for the Single Mom

‘Does it matter that much?’

Was she guarding her personal details because they were none of his business? The way she would keep any other one of her colleagues at bay? Or was there a part of her that wished she could be—just for one night—the kind of carefree single woman that a man like Tak might actually want to date? And not just pretend.

Ridiculous.

Guilt speared her. She wasn’t that kind of woman. She had barely been that kind of girl. Her carefree single days had ended the moment she’d found out that she was going to become a teenage mum. And there had been absolutely no one in the world to support her.

For the last thirteen years it had been just her and Nell. Together. She was ashamed that a part of her should want to pretend otherwise, even for a few hours.

‘Yes, it does matter.’ She nodded. It was now or never. ‘To me. And to my daughter.’

Silence dropped between them like the thick, heavy curtain on a stage, separating the players from the audience. Her from Tak. What on earth had possessed her to say anything? Was it simply because Tak reminded her of a woman who was long gone?

‘You have a daughter?’

His voice was even, just as before. Perhaps the silence had only been in her own head.

‘Nell. Short for Eleanor. She’s thirteen.’

‘Thirteen? You must have been...’

‘Just turned eighteen.’ She didn’t mean to sound so snappy, but she couldn’t stop herself. ‘Yeah, you don’t have to do the maths. I’ve lived it. Now you know why I don’t date. Why I won’t date.’

Whatever she’d been expecting him to say, it wasn’t the words which came next. Or the soft, almost melancholy tone.

‘Difficult age, thirteen. I imagine she hasn’t taken kindly to the move?’

She floundered. ‘Um...no. Not really.’

‘She’s acting out?’

It was less of a question, more of a statement. As though he knew. And there was something else, too. Effie couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was, but if she’d had to hazard a guess she might have thought that he didn’t like the fact that he knew. That he felt it was a connection between them which he didn’t want to feel.

Hadn’t Hetti once told her that Tak had spent much of his childhood taking care of his younger siblings—not just the usual big-brother-as-playground-protector stuff, but all the tasks that a parent would ordinarily do? If that was true then it had to be hard for him to shake that responsibility, even now they were all grown up.

It was certainly hard for herself, trying to let go of the past. Trying not to let it cloud the way she dealt with Nell. Trying not to let her own life experiences turn her into an over-protective mother. But maybe she was just imagining it. Either way, it was all she could do not to nod in agreement and wonder...

‘What makes you say that?’ she asked.

‘Because you were agitated when I met you in the lobby. Like you’d had a run-in with someone. I assumed it was the teenage lads I saw hanging around outside.’

‘Those lads are fine. And the place isn’t that bad. It’s a desirable city-centre location. Besides, it’s the closest thing I could find to Nell’s new school on such short notice.’

‘Desirable is a matter of opinion,’ he disputed. ‘So the run-in was with someone else? I’m thinking it was with your daughter. Nell. Want to talk about it?’

‘Nope.’ But she couldn’t fault him for being astute. It was impressive, really.

‘It might help.’

She opened her mouth, then snapped it shut again. Surely she shouldn’t be discussing this with him, an almost stranger? Effie wanted to shut the conversation down, but found that she couldn’t. There was something about Tak, about those broad shoulders, which suddenly made her think how nice it would be to get another perspective and some adult support.

She did, however, find herself tugging on a stray thread from her clutch bag. A habit she’d formed decades ago, when she was anxious and unhappy. Or feeling cornered.

‘I don’t see why I would talk about it,’ she managed stiffly.

‘Because everyone needs to talk sometimes.’

She might have believed him if she hadn’t caught the flash of irritation in his expression. However fleeting it had been.