Single Dad's Wife (Fake Marriage Romance)

by Lara Swann

  “Though, you know, either way - I’m not your boss anymore.” He meets my gaze, matching my smile knowingly, and I laugh.

  “Yeah, I guess you’re right there. That’s going to take some getting used to.”

  “I’ll just have to keep reminding you then.” He says, his smile widening into a grin and I match it easily.

  I’m grateful for how quickly he seems to have adjusted to that, and how comfortable he is with it. I hope I’ll eventually feel the same way, but I’m not sure whether I might always feel slightly overshadowed by him at the practice. He did found it after all.

  After that, I retreat into the living room and flop down in front of the television and he disappears into his home office, in what quickly becomes a usual pattern. I slowly realize that while I stay late at the practice whenever I have work left to do, Nathan spends his evenings after Emma is in bed working late at home. Every night. That’s way more than I ever imagined, and I find myself feeling a little sad about it. I mean, I don’t get out much, but at least I try to make some time for myself and I do have some fun.

  “Hey…” I start one evening, as I’m preparing dinner and he’s finishing up his at the table. “Am I in the living room too much?”

  “Huh?” He looks up, confused.

  “Well, I just didn’t know whether you ever wanted to use it, or watch something, you know? I tend to gravitate there after dinner and I wasn’t sure if it was blocking you from doing the same. I mean, it’s your room, and I really don’t have to—”

  “Oh, no. No, not at all. I only tend to do that with Emma sometimes - and mostly on weekends. It’s too late to watch anything by the time I get home from work.”

  For Emma, that is. I mentally add the implied comment. It wouldn’t be too late for him at all.

  That’s about what I’d thought, but I still frown, tilting my head.

  “Are you sure? I really don’t mind—”

  “Honestly, it’s fine.”

  “Well, you’ll say if you do? It’s more than your turn if you are trying to avoid me, and if you’re not there’s no reason why we can’t watch something together.”

  He blinks, as if that idea surprises him. God, when was the last time he did anything that wasn’t related to his daughter somehow?

  “I’m not trying to avoid you.” He says, automatically answering the part that jumps out at him while he still processes the rest. “And yes, I’ll say, but please don’t worry.”

  “Okay, well you’re always welcome to join me.” I offer.

  He smiles and thanks me, and then proceeds to clear up his dinner and go back to his office to work again. He does the same thing for the next couple of nights, and I pretty much give up on him taking me up on that offer - he’s probably dismissed or forgotten it entirely - when halfway through a game show, I glance over to see him leaning against the door frame, a half-smile on his face as he looks at the screen.

  “Hey.” I say, noticing him. “You coming to join me tonight?”

  “Yeah, I thought it might do me good.” He says, coming forward to take a seat on the other couch. “What are you watching?”

  As he moves out of the shadow, the familiar, strong shape of his face comes into focus and my gaze traces the line of stubble across his jaw, up to those devastating blue eyes. He looks tired. I’m not surprised, but I still feel for him. With all the crazy changes happening at break-neck speed recently, it’s sometimes easy to forget that he’s dealing with a stressful custody case on top of everything else. Well, easy for me, I guess. I doubt he’s had a moment’s rest from it since it started.

  “Jeopardy.” I say with a shrug, my hand going to the remote. “But I’m happy with anything. What do you want to watch?”

  “I don’t want TV enough to know.” He says, with a slightly self-deprecating laugh. “So I’ll go with your pick. This is fine for me.”

  I give him a slightly skeptical glance. I just watch casual stuff like this to relax and stop my mind from spinning over all the people and cases I’ve seen all day, second-guessing myself and wondering if I missed anything, but it’s definitely not the highest quality TV if you’re going to pick one night to watch it. He doesn’t seem fazed though, so I shrug and turn back to it.

  “Okay, but if you change your mind, I—”

  “Really don’t mind. I know.” He gives me a half-amused, knowing glance and it makes me laugh, even if in slight embarrassment.

  Okay. Fair. I’ve said that enough times. Point taken.

  I relax back into the couch and continue watching as they make their way through the second round, but really, most of my focus is drawn by Nathan. I might not be looking at him but I feel hyper-aware of his presence anyway, like static electricity on my skin, in a way that I don’t usually when we’re just passing each other in the house. I’m glad that he’s here - he could definitely use it, and I like the company - but it’s more than a little distracting, too. I’m lucky that this is the kind of activity where I can just sink back into my couch and keep him totally oblivious to it, though.

  After a little while, I think he starts getting into it. He laughs at some of the things Alex says, the sound going all the way through me and warming me from the inside, and makes off-hand comments and suggestions for the answers. I find myself responding in kind, grinning to myself as I do and getting far more into the result than I ever usually am. It’s a nice, warm feeling that grows between us as we chat idly about it, and I realize I’m enjoying the companionship myself more than I’d anticipated.

  When the show ends, to Nathan’s ‘yes!’ and me cursing, there’s a brief pause - and then he suggests we find something else. So we do. A sitcom this time, because I secretly want to keep hearing that deep, rumbling laugh. I don’t think I’ve heard it nearly enough recently.

  We continue on that way, enjoying the warm atmosphere and easy, friendly conversation as we move from one show to another, neither of us quite wanting to suggest we call it a night - until it gets late enough that I have to.

  “Alright. I think that’s me done.” I finally admit, more than a little reluctantly. “Or I’m not going to be able to function tomorrow.”

  It’s already past midnight, a couple of hours later than my usual bedtime.

  “Yeah. Shit. I probably should have thought about that, I just—” He shrugs, then laughs, seeming suddenly a little unsure. “I guess I was having too good a time.”

  I smile, warmth surging through me at the confirmation that he felt it too.

  “Me too, Nathan. That was more fun than I’ve had in a while.”

  He smiles, his eyes full of their own warmth as they meet mine.

  “Thank you for this, Jess. It was…really nice.” He stands, stretching as I turn off the television. I try not to stare too obviously as his top rides up just a little, but daamn. That’s appealing.

  I stand up myself, mostly to distract myself from that, and smile back. “I’m glad you came to join me in the end.”

  “Me too.” He tilts his head slightly. “Maybe I’ll join you again sometime…”

  The way he says it isn’t quite a question, but I can tell it wants to be.

  “Please do.” I say, gesturing expansively at the room to cover some of my enthusiasm. “You’re always welcome.”

  He nods, and we both head up to bed as I finally start to feel the tiredness. It doesn’t come close to the pleasant, warm feeling I’ve also got, though - one that I think he might even share, if only in a friendly way. I pause on the threshold of the room he set aside for me, glancing down the hall to the bedroom he disappeared into and hoping for a moment that he really does join me again.

  For himself, as well as me. I’m almost as glad that he took the break, as I am that we had the evening together.

  But okay, it is mostly for me.

  Chapter Seven

  Nathan

  “G

  oddamnit.”

  I get off the call from my lawyer with a growl, my gut churning.


  Visitation. That’s all I need to deal with right now. Especially considering the shit Stephanie has pulled so far…

  “Nathan?”

  I glance up to see Jessica sticking her head through the door. She gives me a scrutinizing look.

  “Is this a bad time?”

  “Er, no. I just…” I start, then glance back at the phone with a grimace. I definitely don’t want to talk about that. “No, it’s fine. What was it?”

  She steps into the room, but her gaze only narrows further.

  “It’s midday. We were going to meet to go over those accounts you’ve had back…?” She says, deliberately making it a question. “But if you’re busy or you’ve got other things going on, we really can do it another time.”

  “Oh, damn—of course.” I shake my head, leaning back with a sigh and not bothering to hide that I’m clearly all over the place today. “Okay, lets do it. I’ve got the files here.”

  Maybe it will take my mind off Stephanie for a few minutes.

  Then again, it’s accounts, so probably not.

  Jessica comes to sit next to me, totally undeterred by my disorganization. I guess she’s pretty used to it at the moment. I load up the documents on my computer and we look through the details the accountants have sent back, discussing a few of them, and as we do I can’t help noticing her next to me.

  It never used to be like this - she’s spent plenty of time close to me and it’s never particularly made an impression before - but since she came to live with me, I guess I’m just a bit more…aware…of her than I used to be.

  Maybe it comes from seeing her in other, non-work environments - and just more of her in general. The marriage thing might have been nothing more than a convenience, but it’s impossible to deny that this arrangement has brought us closer - partly because its made us so much more invested in each others’ lives at the moment, but also because that’s what comes from living together.

  Especially with our evening television habit, something that’s becoming increasingly regular…

  It’s enough that even if I’ve only recently realized the friend she’s been to me since Stephanie left, I can’t deny we’re more friends than just colleagues now. The last thing I wanted was a wife - but maybe I needed a friend more than I thought.

  Of course, whenever it occurs to me that we’re actually married then I start feeling uncomfortable all over again…but the longer we do this, the less I think about it. It’s not relevant most of the time - either at work or home - and it’s surprisingly easy to forget about.

  I have no idea what I expected from her moving in - maybe something slightly awkward, slightly inconvenient, with us dancing uncertainly around each other uncertainly - but definitely something more ‘making the best of a bad situation’ than enjoyable in its own right. It’s surprised me how easy Jessica is to live with, how effortlessly we get on and that instead of trying to stay out of her way as I’d imagined, I’ve started actively seeking her out in the evenings.

  I didn’t realize that I’d been missing that kind of simple adult companionship, but actually, having someone to talk inanely with and watch stupid shows seems to be the only thing getting me through the shit that’s going on at the moment. Jessica’s right. That stuff really does shut out your mind when you need it to.

  We finish up the accounts with most of my attention elsewhere - somewhere between the call I just had with my lawyer and Jessica sitting next to me - but luckily it’s pretty simple.

  “Okay, I’ll send this back to them later today.” I say, once we’ve agreed all the changes. “Thanks, Jessica.”

  At least that’s one thing off the to-do list.

  “No problem.”

  “Good timing, too.” I add. “I thought that would take at least the entire lunch break. Guess we actually get a chance to eat today.”

  I’m only half-joking. Last week we were left scrambling for food before our next appointment a little too often.

  “Actually.” Jessica says, not making any move to leave. “Since we have a few minutes, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

  “Oh?” I try to make it nonchalant, but something tightens up inside me anyway.

  Is there something wrong? Is she not happy living with me? With our arrangement? Was it just me thinking things were going so well—

  “Yeah. You’ve mentioned a few times that if I had any thoughts or ideas for the practice, about anything I think we should consider doing or changing, then we should talk about it - and actually, there was something.”

  “Oh, right. Yes, of course.” I say, letting out the internal breath I’d been holding.

  Idiot.

  Of course. It’s fine. Just a work thing. Not that Jessica would bring up outside-of-work issues here, she’s more professional than that, but still…it’s hard to remember that when every piece of news I’m getting at the moment is like a punch to the gut.

  “What were you thinking?” I ask, though I can’t help a sideways glance toward the clock. I’m not sure this is a good time to talk about something new. I’ve got enough to deal with right now as it is.

  “Well, I’ve always wanted to get more involved with medical conferences. We have a lot of great ideas at this practice - your free clinic day on Friday, our patient triage system - and every so often, I’ll come across a patient that I think would make a really interesting case study. I’ve always found conferences invaluable, particularly when I was training, and to be honest I’ve felt bad about how few I’ve attended in recent years - it would be great to have the chance to do that, but also to share some of what we’ve learned. Primary care medicine has a real issue with how few few medical students are interested in it these days and if we could showcase how important it really is then maybe it would go some small way towards dealing with the anticipated shortages in the future.”

  I can see the passion in her eyes as she talks about it, her face animated with all the possibilities she’s describing, and it makes me feel even worse for the way my stomach drops. When she finally comes to a stop, looking at me with excitement as she waits for my response, I hesitate. Then I sigh. I can’t exactly conceal my reaction.

  “That sounds like it would be a great thing to pursue, Jessica.” I say, my tone obviously regretful. “But it’s a huge undertaking. I’m not sure we have the time or resources right now to create that kind of professional material - or to do the necessary research behind it. We’re near to our limit just running the practice. Maybe it’s something we could look at doing over the next few years? And if you wanted to attend a few conferences yourself, I’m sure we could find enough in our training budget for it.”

  Even as I make the suggestions, I don’t like how they sound. It feels too much like all I’m offering her are a few pathetic consolations to make it easier to say ‘no’.

  Her face drops and I immediately feel guilty, but I don’t see how we can possibly take on another major enterprise right now.

  “Oh.” She says, not hiding her disappointment. “Okay. I just thought that maybe…but yes, it would probably be a lot of effort.”

  “We could look into it for the future.” I say again, wanting her to feel like I’m taking this seriously. “I’d like to do some of these things, Jess, I just think now isn’t the right time for it.”

  She nods slowly.

  “Okay.” She eventually says again, but she doesn’t quite meet my gaze. “Well, okay then, I guess we should get back to lunch.”

  She stands and gathers up her notebook.

  “Jessica—” I start, feeling uncomfortable about her leaving on that note, but when her eyes flick back to mine I have nothing to follow it up with. “Thanks for your help with this.”

  I gesture back to the computer screen, and she just nods again, mutely, before leaving to find her lunch. Once she’s gone, I sigh again, rubbing my temples as my head starts to throb with the familiar ache of a stress-headache.

  I continue with the appointments for the da
y - dealing with issues like Ms. Jacobs’ asthma, Mr. Murray’s bad back and Mrs. Anderson’s diabetes - and although I enjoy talking easily to each of them and answering their queries, I find myself going through the motions as my mind keeps returning to the lunch meeting with Jessica.

  As the day goes on, I continue to feel bad about it. I want her to feel able to make a real impact here, and I probably shouldn’t have dismissed the first thing she suggested so quickly - especially when she was obviously so passionate about it - but it just felt like too much.

  If she’d suggested something small, or simple…

  But of course not. This is Jessica. Her ambitions were never going to be small or simple.

  I had no idea she was interested in that side of medicine, though. I’ve definitely never thought about getting involved in it before. If I’m honest, it might even have been one of the reasons I decided to pursue primary care - I’m more than happy in the little bubble I’ve created, and I’ve always considered my time better spent talking to my own patients than networking with other doctors. It’s what they think that I really care about.

  That probably didn’t help with my reaction though, and I feel bad when I think that too many of my own biases might have come through in my response. I know many doctors find the opportunity to share insights truly valuable - and Jessica did have a point. The idea of putting ourselves out there for the wider profession to examine might make me slightly uncomfortable, but I hadn’t thought about how we might genuinely help or influence other practices with what we do here.

  I’m still thinking about it at the end of the day, and when I look up at a shadow in the doorway to see Jessica standing there, a strange relief washes through me. I didn’t like the way we’d left things earlier.

  “Jessica.” I say, beckoning her in and standing up myself. “I’m glad you came by—listen, I’m sorry about earlier—”

  “That’s what I came to talk about, actually.” Jessica says, coming forward and meeting my gaze evenly. “I looked into it a bit more - the conferences - and the thing is, you’ve said all along that we’re equal partners now. This is something I’d really like to do and while I’d love your support with it, I’m not sure I should have to ask permission for it. I know it’s busy running the practice, and you’ve got a lot going on at the moment, but I was planning to do all the groundwork for this myself anyway and I won’t let it interfere with my day-to-day contributions to the practice. So I’d like to talk through your concerns in more detail, as partners, so that I can understand and hopefully address them.”