Evie's Bombshell - By Amy Andrews Page 0,56

straight. I’m sure I’ll feel a lot better after a sleep.’

Finn opened his mouth to say something but Marco entered the room, greeting them in his usual jovial way. ‘How are you feeling, Evie?’

‘Tired,’ Finn murmured.

Evie glared at him. ‘A little tired, otherwise fine.’

‘What’s her haemoglobin, Marco?’ Finn asked.

‘Ten point nine,’ Marco said, not having to consult the chart in his hands. ‘She lost very little blood,’ he assured Finn, before turning to Evie and asking a couple more questions. ‘I think we take down that drip now and discharge you tomorrow morning if everything goes well overnight.’

Evie nodded, feeling ridiculously teary again at the thought of going home without Isaac. ‘I won’t be going far,’ she said.

‘Which makes me even more comfortable with discharging you.’ Marco smiled.

They chatted for a while longer, talking about Isaac, and Marco smiling over his own little one’s antics before he noticed Evie yawn. ‘I better get on,’ he said. ‘I’ll see you in the morning.’

Finn stood and shook his hand. ‘Thanks, Marco. You were brilliant last night.’

‘Yes,’ Evie agreed. ‘You were fabulous. I’ll never forget how you came in when you weren’t on call.’

Marco winked at her. ‘Anything for Evie Lockheart.’

Finn rolled his eyes. ‘I bet you say that to all your mothers.’

Evie shut her eyes as Marco chuckled and Finn once again relegated her to a role instead of a person. Would he ever see her as a woman again? Love her as a woman? Or would he always just love her because she was the mother of his child?

‘But thanks,’ Finn continued. ‘Evie’s right. I owe you.’

Marco chuckled. ‘I hope that is something I never have to collect on. My cholesterol is good and there is no cardiac history in my family.’

‘Well, how about I buy you a beer at Pete’s as soon as Isaac is home instead?’

Marco nodded. ‘It’s a deal. Although let’s make it a red wine instead—just to be sure.’

Marco left and Evie faked a yawn. She had the sudden urge to bury her head under the covers and not come out. Maybe Finn was right. Maybe she was going through those baby blues a little early.

‘I’ll go too,’ he said, satisfied to see her already look a little less exhausted around her eyes, even if she did seem to still be avoiding eye contact. He sat on the side of the bed again. ‘Ring me after you’ve had a sleep and I can come back and get you.’

Evie nodded, a lump in her throat at the tenderness in his voice. Then he leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss on her forehead. He stood and said, ‘I love you, Evie,’ before walking out the door.

Evie let the tears come then. She wasn’t sure what had been more heartbreaking, his throwaway line about loving her or the kiss currently air-drying on her forehead. His declaration of love—his second—was about as heartfelt as that kiss. Something he might bestow on an aged great-aunt with whiskers growing out of her chin.

Asexual. Perfunctionary. Expected.

Was that what she had to look forward to now she was a mother? Some idealised figure who was a nurturer. And nothing else?

Finn was going to put her on some bloody pedestal and turn her into something holy and untouchable.

After a full night’s sleep Evie was almost feeling human again at barely five a.m. as she crept down to the NICU by herself to visit with her little man and do some more expressing. Finn was there, still maintaining his vigil beside Isaac’s incubator, and for a moment she just stood in the doorway, watching him watch their son.

Her heart squeezed painfully in her chest at the sight. She could feel Finn’s love for Isaac rolling off him in waves, encompassing the cot and the tiny little scrap of humanity inside it as if he was the most precious child that had ever lived. The area around the cot practically glowed with the force field of Finn’s love.

It was exactly what she’d wanted. And yet she was suddenly incredibly jealous.

Which was selfish, hateful and greedy.

And she had to let it go because their son needed her to concentrate on him and his needs and the long haul ahead. Not on any insecurities over Finn. And this morning at least she was feeling more in charge of herself to do just that.

She shuffled forward in her slippers and slid her hand onto Finn’s shoulder. He turned and looked up at her and he looked so weary and sexy