Pretend hearts, real love

Lines blurred

Charlotte adjusted the strap of her shoulder bag as she hurried through the glass doors of Portland Medical Center. The pungent sting of antiseptic clung in the air, and the murmurs of voices, ringing phones, and occasional overhead page were a discordant morning melody. She'd risen at 5:30 reviewing the media kits for the hospital's "Health Week for Kids" campaign, but still felt unprepared.

She nodded to a familiar nurse and smiled as she entered the communications department. Valerie, her assistant, was already sitting at her desk, drinking coffee and taking a call on the phone with the kind of patience that Charlotte admired before 9 a.m.

Charlotte did not sit down. She approached her office, heels clicking with purpose.

Yesterday's to-do list had included reviewing the press release with the marketing group, arranging for a short video shoot in Pediatrics, and getting ready for a board meeting on community outreach initiatives. What it didn't include was psyching herself out every time she met with one of the pediatricians who flashed her that devastating smile and called her "Mommy" like it was real.

But hospital scheduling, and destiny, were just a little bit warped.

A half hour later, Charlotte was at Pediatrics, outside an agitated cameraman team poised to film a "Meet the Doctor" segment for the hospital website. A forward-thinking program intended to introduce the public to the professionals, specifically physicians who had long working relationships with children.

She was busy reminding the cameraman to obscure patient identifying details when a familiar voice called out.

"Didn't know you worked as a director on the second," Aiden remarked, walking up in his scrubs, clipboard clutched in his hand.

Charlotte turned, her breath catching a little before she regained it. "And I didn't know you were allergic to appearing presentable on camera. Did you at least brush your hair?"

Aiden ruffled a hand through his unruly dark curls. "I figured messy chic was your domain."

Charlotte delivered him a sarcastic grin. "No, my department is shaping the image of this hospital. Which is to say, trying to make doctors like you look semi-human on TV."

"Can't help but be charming already," he replied with a grin. "But I'll do my best not to scare the kids."

She laughed despite herself. "Too late. One of the toddlers wondered if you were a pirate who didn't get much sleep.".

He assumed a look of complete outrage. "Only partly true."

The banter was easy, but the tension underlying it turned hard in Charlotte's stomach. Since Family Day at Emily's school, something had shifted. She couldn't help but think of Aiden more than she ought. Not as Emily's dad. Not as part of a temporary arrangement. But as.Aiden.

And it was becoming harder and harder to remember that they were just pretending.

The shoot went rapidly, with Aiden easily projecting warmth alongside professionalism a tricky combination Charlotte was certain would go over big on social media. The children adored him naturally. Even when a four-year-old sneezed all over his lab coat in the middle of a shot, he didn't bat an eyelash.

"Part of the atmosphere," he shrugged after, as Charlotte offered him a tissue.

She still had the giggles when they left Pediatrics together, making their way down the hallway to the cafeteria. Aiden had insisted on buying her coffee as a thank-you, and she didn't have the energy or the heart to say no.

"I still don't get how you make it on hospital coffee," she said, tasting cautiously from the cup he handed her. "It's betrayal."

Aiden grinned. “You mean ‘caffeine with a hint of existential crisis’? It grows on you.”

“I’ll pass.”

They found a quiet corner near the windows overlooking the hospital garden. Outside, children were being wheeled in strollers, and nurses were taking brief moments of calm. Inside, Charlotte felt anything but calm.

"I've seen your new campaign," Aiden said, nodding toward the tablet in her lap. "Health Week for Kids cute title. And I see you're doing a live Q&A next week."

She raised an eyebrow. "Are you going to troll us in comments then?"

"Tempting. But no. I was just surprised you're doing it live. You hate being on camera."

She drank coffee slowly before responding. "I still do. But it's the job. And it makes it easier when you know the pediatric team has your back. Even the ones who wear rumpled scrubs and charm their way out of HR meetings."

He smiled dryly. "You're never going to let that go, are you?"

"Not a chance."

An uncomfortable silence between them evaporated into nothing. Or, rather, into something charged.

He leaned back in his chair, tapping his fingers on his coffee mug. "You've been different since Family Day."

"Same here," she said softly.

His eyes met hers, his face now somber. "It was all a performance, Charlotte. Every bit of it. But Emily looks at you like you're already hers. And the thing is.so do I."

Charlotte's heart skipped a beat.

"That's not fair," she said to him, her tone even. "You can't speak like that and we're sitting in a hospital cafeteria with the slight scent of disinfectant and awful coffee."

"I know," he said. "But I also know I'm finished pretending. I don't think I've been for a while."

She gulped and looked away. "We agreed to this so that we could help Emily. And I've come to care for her deeply. But this is difficult, Aiden."

"Anything that's worth the feeling is," he replied. "You're scared. I know. But don't close me off because the lines are blurred."

She smiled once, a tiny, bitter one. "You're one of the best pediatricians in this town. I do communications for this hospital. We can't handle blurry lines."

He tilted his head. "That's rich. Because from where I sit, we're the only ones who still manage to attract them."

The silence returned thicker now.

Later in the day, Charlotte sat in her office staring at the screen of her laptop without scanning a single word. Her fingers hovered over the keyboard as she circled and recircled in her head about what they had said.

He wasn't mistaken. But that didn't make it any less terrifying.

She jumped when the door to her office creaked.

Valerie stuck her head in. "Sorry you've got a visitor."

Charlotte blinked. "Who—?"

But before she could get the words out of her mouth, Emily burst in through the door, grinning. "Surprise!"

"Emily?" Charlotte stood up, confused and blinking. "What on earth are you doing here? Arent you supposed to be with your father?"

"I am," Aiden said from the doorway, coming in. "We had a check-up nearby. She begged to come say hello."

Emily buried her face in Charlotte's arms, hugging her tight. "I drew you something!"

She pulled out a wadded piece of paper. There was a stick figure drawing of three hand-clasping people beneath the sun. In purple crayon, above them, "My Family" was written.

Charlotte's chest tightened. She cried down to Emily's level, ruffling her hair. "Thank you, baby. This is beautiful."

Emily smiled, then looked up at Aiden. "Can we get something for ice cream?"

"Yeah, kiddo. But only if Charlotte can come too."

Emily made those wide brown eyes at her. "Please?"

Charlotte wavered between father and daughter. Her heart conflicted with her head.

She wasn't their family. Not technically.

But standing there with Emily's hand in hers and Aiden looking at her like she was already a part of it didn't feel dishonest a single moment.

Maybe the lines were gray. But maybe that was okay.