Hey, thanks for all the reviews! They make me smile like a complete idiot! :) In this chapter, I wanted to bring a bit of Connie's past into it- which I'm hoping to do in some future chapters too! I've had to change and re-write this chapter so many times so I'm sorry if it's not that good. Please R&R :D Beth xxx

It was 12:46PM later that day when Connie decided to take her lunch earlier than usual. She'd spent most of her shift toilet hugging after a terrible case of morning sickness that she insisted to a concerned Rita was due to some out of date cheese. She couldn't remember feeling this poorly when she was pregnant with Grace, she was certainly never sick and her body didn't ache even half as much as it did now. The clinical lead put it down to her being even older now, perhaps her body was struggling with the changes that were taking place within her. Mentally, she couldn't get used to or believe the idea that she was very much so having another baby, it didn't feel real. This was all a massive shock to her, she didn't plan to end up in bed with a complete stranger in Romania and then mother his child nine months later. But after a lot of thinking, she decided that everything happens for a reason. Whether that reasoning doesn't become clear until years and years after that something happens. Everything would make sense eventually.

A gentle knock at the door brought Mrs Beauchamp back into the room, away from her thoughts. She coughed, clearing her throat, "Come in."

"Good Afternoon Mrs Beauchamp!" Robyn sang chirpily as she burst through the door, "I know you're on your break but there's a man in cubicles, he's asking to see you."

Connie looked up from her desk, sipping her glass of water, she frowned slightly before replying, "Give me ten more minutes. Thank you, Robyn."

Who on earth would be asking to see her? It couldn't be Alex? What if he'd found out about the pregnancy and decided to travel all of that way to confront her? Whoever it was, she wasn't particularly happy about having to cut her break short.

"Mrs Beauchamp said she will be over as soon as she can, ok? Is there anybody we can call for you in the meantime Mr.. Mr...?" Robyn was cut off by the sound of Connie's heels and the sliding of the curtain opening.

"Michael." Connie stood frozen, her ex husband was the last person she had expected.

"Beauchamp. Mr Beauchamp." Michael replied to the nurse before smiling at Connie. It didn't take long for Nurse Miller to put two and two together, as she fiddled with her clipboard just as her brother, Max, came in holding a phone in his hand.

"Ah you left this in the ambulance mate." He said passing the phone to Michael, who simply ignored the porter.

"Been a while, hasn't it Con? You look..." He shook his head, speechless at his breathtakingly beautiful ex, "Even more gorgeous than ever."

"And you look..." She mocked his tone, she walked slowly over to his bedside, before finishing with a sarcastic smile, "Even more repulsive than ever."

Max laughed nudging Robyn before shaking his head, "OOOOH! Apply ice to burn!" Mrs Beauchamp glared at Max, who took her reaction as a cue to scuttle off out into the corridor.

"Erm, Mr Beauchamp was in an RTC. He has a minor laceration to his left wrist and a possible fracture too. He's been complaining of chest pains but he did inform Dixie at the scene that he is a sufferer of COPD." Robyn informed the doctor after a long awkward silence.

Connie nodded and place her stephoscope in her ears, "Can you send off for an X-RAY? I'm just going to have a listen to your heart, ok Michael?"

As she did so, he gently whispered, "No good doing that. It's been broken ever since you divorced me." Mrs Beauchamp rolled her eyes and laughed slightly.

"How long have you known about your COPD?"

"A few years. Reckon it's pay back."

"For what?" Connie asked, resting her hand on her hip as Robyn left the room.

Michael tried to reach out for Connie's hand, "Pay back for hurting people. Hurting you, Connie." He paused, "I'm sorry."

Connie stared at her ex husband for a brief moment, completely taken a back by his apology.

"You look really good." He whispered, "You know, I've thought about you a lot. I miss you."

"Oh really? I heard you remarried not so long ago?"

"Didn't work. We had completely different lifestyles. She wanted the whole cosy little happy family thing and I wanted my career and-"

"And the sleazy hotel rooms with a different woman every night?" Connie added, taking a look at the cut on his arm.

"I'm not like that, Con."

"Oh? See, I find that very hard to believe. Considering that was what you wanted or rather did for the majority of our marriage."

"No, no. It wasn't like that. It wasn't about hurting you or not loving you at all. I was lonely, you were always working and-"

"You were never in love with me, Michael." She said as she cleaned up his arm, he winced slightly and frowned as he placed his hand on top of hers to gain her full attention.

"Maybe I should have told you this ten years ago." He paused, "The night we met, under that bridge down Keswick Street during that thunderstorm that everyone in Britain ranted and raved about for days after, well that was the best night of my entire life. I'd had a shit day, my girlfriend at the time had ended me and all I wanted to do was to get home as quickly as possible but when I saw you under the bridge absolutely soaking wet, I didn't care about getting home. There was something about you, Connie, I've never looked at a woman and felt what I felt when I first lay my eyes on you. So I stopped, and watched the rain pour down with you, and I was desperately trying to think of a way to start a conversation with you without coming across as if I was trying to chat you up. So that's why I asked you for directions to Butterfield Way, I wasn't lost at all. I just wanted to talk to you. I don't know why." Michael laughed slightly, "You gave me the completely wrong way, by the way. We spoke for barely 3 minutes, but those 3 minutes were all I needed to fall in love and I knew that we would meet again. I walked that route home from work for four months, hoping I'd see you again, I never did- not on that bridge. It was not until 5 years later, at the hospital that we met again, I didn't want to waste another 5 years without at least getting to know you so that's why I was so persistent on going for a drink."

Connie listened closely, her face softened, "The Summer of 1989. I never knew that you was 'bridge guy'."

"Bridge guy?"

"You didn't tell me your name under the bridge. So my friends called you 'bridge guy'." Connie laughed slightly, thinking back to the thunderstorm, "I felt it, too."

Michael smiled and placed his hand gently in hers, "We've finally found each other, bridge girl."

Connie slowly pulled her hand away, "I'm sorry." She whispered, "We won't ever be together again, Michael. We hurt each other too much." She said softly.

"We never tried."

"That was the part of the problem. I can't put myself through the pain again, I won't do it." Connie sat down on the edge of the bed, "Things haven't been smooth at the minute, everything keeps going wrong and I don't want to add something else to my growing list."

"What's happened?"

Connie's eyes fell onto the wall, not really concentrating, "I'm having a baby." Her voice was just a whisper, "I don't know how I feel about it. All of my life, I've been so certain of everything, always knew I was making the right decision with anything that has been thrown at me. And it terrifies me that I'm so confused about this. I can't leave one of my babies in New York with her father and then keep my new one with me. It isn't fair on Grace, I want them both in my life."