‘For years after my mom died, I felt like I was walking on eggshells. My father was testy most of the time, and I just got used to trying to make myself invisible at home. But at school, I acted out. And one day...’ He took a deep breath. ‘One day I did something I can’t even remember any more and my dad got called in to school. I remember he sat there, listening to my teacher, and I saw the tic just above his eye. I didn’t know what that meant then, but when I got home...’
He paused, then forced himself to say the words.
‘The anger that my dad had built up since my mom had died came spilling out of his mouth.’ Jordan’s jaw clenched. ‘He told me that if it hadn’t been for me my mom wouldn’t have died. He said that it was my fault, that she had foregone treatment because of me, and that it had all been for nothing since I was just a bratty, ungrateful child.’
Jordan stopped for a moment, composing himself.
‘He said some other things that night—I think most of them things he blamed himself for. He broke down immediately afterwards and apologised, over and over again. It was grief, mixed with anger and regret, but I’ve never forgotten how seeing my distant father break down felt. Or...’ he turned to her now ‘...how it affected me.’
He could see the sadness gleaming in her eyes, and he waited for resentment to boil up in him at the sight of it. But it never came, and he realised that the only thing he felt was her support.
‘I always wondered why things were so difficult between you two,’ she said after a while, and she walked over until she was next to him and took his hand.
The warmth of her gesture of comfort immediately flowed through him, and he tightened his grip. ‘I didn’t think you’d noticed.’
She let out a slight laugh. ‘It was hard not to. I always thought it was because of him.’
‘Why?’
‘He was a difficult man, Jordan. He didn’t show his emotions, didn’t say what he thought, and most of the time when he spoke it sounded like a military command.’
Floored, he looked down at her. ‘I thought you liked him?’
‘I loved him,’ she corrected. ‘He was kind to me, and in his own way he showed me he cared for me. I loved him,’ she repeated, and he could hear the grief in her voice, ‘but that doesn’t mean I didn’t see his flaws.’
He nodded, and there was a silence as they both thought about his father. As he thought about the fact that he needed to continue with his story.
‘He only became the man you’re talking about after that night. But even then he wasn’t perfect, and I spent my whole life believing that my mother’s death was my fault.’
‘Your father was angry, Jordan. He was grieving for a woman he had loved with all of him and for the life he thought he would get to live. He didn’t mean what he said, or the things he did.’
‘But she did choose me, Mila,’ he said softly.
‘Exactly. She did. You had absolutely no say over the choices she made, Jordan. Don’t keep blaming yourself for something you didn’t have any control over.’ She wrapped an arm around him. ‘It won’t help.’
Somewhere in his mind her words resonated, and he said, ‘I didn’t want to see you suffer like she did.’
She looked up at him, her eyes wide. ‘That’s why you left?’
‘I didn’t think so at first. I thought I was doing the right thing.’ He stopped, wondering how he was having all the most difficult conversations of his life within the space of an hour. ‘But I’ve realised over the last few days that that was why I left. Why I ran.’
Her arm was still around him, though he could feel it slacken.
You deserve it for being a coward, he thought, but it didn’t make the pain of her pulling away any easier.
Still he continued. If she was going to leave—if she was going to move on—it wouldn’t be because he hadn’t fought for her with all his might.
‘It was also because I was...angry. I couldn’t deal with the loss of our son.’
It was his biggest regret about his father’s death—that he hadn’t been able to tell Greg that he understood the grieving. He had been too young with his mother, but losing his son... Finally Jordan had understood how irrational grief could be.
‘I got angry at you for pushing me away, and it...it scared me. I thought I was turning into my father. Even after the anger had dulled I thought it was for the best that I didn’t come back, that I didn’t fight for us. Because I didn’t want to wake up one day and blame you for something that wasn’t your fault. I didn’t want to treat you like my father had treated me.’
He paused.
‘It wasn’t your fault, Mila,’ he said again, because he thought she needed to know. ‘The fall had nothing to do with you not slowing down. You would have had plenty of time to do that later. We both would have.’ He turned to her. ‘You need to let go of whatever’s still inside you that thinks the accident was your fault.’
With eyes full of tears, she nodded, and his heart settled at the knowledge of what they’d just shared. He had finally told her everything, and he hoped he had got her to forgive herself. If she chose to leave now, she would leave free of the weight of the past. But still he wished she wouldn’t leave, and his heart sank when she pulled away, convinced that she had given up on him.
So much so that he looked up in surprise when he saw she was in front of him.
She took both of his hands in hers. ‘I wish you’d told me about this a long time ago.’
‘I couldn’t.’
‘And I wouldn’t have been in the right space to listen,’ she agreed, and then took a deep breath. ‘It makes sense now. All of it.’
‘But does it change anything?’ he asked hopefully, and a familiar expression shone in her eyes. One he hadn’t seen in almost a year.
‘I...I think that depends on you.’
The glimmer of affection in her eyes that he’d seen just before gave way to seriousness.
‘Are you still angry at me?’
‘No, not any more. I understand why you pushed me away. I understand you better, too.’
She gave him a small smile. ‘Do you still blame yourself for your mom?’
‘I...’ He took a breath. ‘I think it’ll take some time—just like I think it will for you not to blame yourself for the baby—but we’ll get there.’
She nodded, gripping his hands tightly. ‘You won’t turn into your father, Jordan, so I won’t even ask if you still believe you will.’
‘How do you know?’
‘Because I know you. You’re strong, and when you’re not afraid...’ she squeezed his hand ‘...you’re the most considerate man I know.’ She paused, and then dropped his hands to slide her arms around his waist. ‘And because you have me, and I will make sure that you don’t turn into an angry, bitter person. Our little grape wouldn’t have wanted that for his father.’
His heart filled at her words. ‘You’re staying with me?’
‘If you want me, I’d really like to.’
‘I don’t want you, Mila. I need you.’ He pulled her in tighter and felt the part of him that had been broken heal. ‘I love you so much.’
‘I love you,’ she replied, and when she pulled back her eyes were gleaming with tears.
‘Don’t cry,’ he said gently, wiping her cheeks.
‘They’re happy tears,’ she whispered. ‘I didn’t dare imagine this was possible when you came back, but my heart hoped it would be.’
‘Mine, too,’ he said, knowing that his heart was only full when he was with her.
‘And we’ll face everything we go through now together.’
‘I promise.’ He stopped, and then said gently, ‘I want us to have another baby.’
He watched her, saw the fear.
‘Not right now. When we’re rea
dy—when we’ve taken the time to be ready. You’re going to be a wonderful mother, and I want a chance to be a good father. And a good husband to my pregnant wife.’
He smiled, lifted her chin. Noted that the fear had turned into longing.
‘We can be a family, Mila.’
Another tear slipped down her face. ‘It sounds perfect.’ And then she smiled. ‘How about we seal this with a kiss?’
He laughed and leaned down to kiss her, vowing that he wouldn’t spoil his second chance at love with the woman who had always owned his heart.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
MILA FELT JORDAN’S hand tighten on hers and she sent him a grateful smile. It was the morning of their event—just over a week since their reconciliation—and she’d told Jordan that she wanted to visit their son’s grave. She’d only ever been to the grave twice—when they’d buried him, and when they’d buried Greg. But after spending the past week talking with Jordan, sharing things that they hadn’t shared with anyone else before, rebuilding their trust and fortifying the foundations of their new relationship, she finally found herself ready.
It didn’t seem right to go through the event without doing it first, so they’d driven over and were now standing just in front of the path that would take them to the grave.
Except now, of course, her legs felt like lead and she didn’t think she could do it.
‘We can do this,’ Jordan said, and she looked over, wondering if she had spoken out loud.
He threaded his fingers through hers and squeezed again, and she returned the pressure, knowing that he was just as nervous as she was. Probably even more so, since it was the first time he’d been back after his father’s funeral, too.
Together they walked down the path that led to the family plot Greg had bought after his wife had died. He’d wanted to make sure that the Thomas family would always be together, even in death.
She slid an arm around Jordan’s waist when they stopped in front of the first tombstone—made of the most expensive marble—which told her that Jade Thomas, Jordan’s mother, had only lived until she was forty.
Way too young, she thought, thinking about how much time with her Greg had been robbed of...how early Jordan had lost her. She knew from losing her own parents how growing up without them could hurt. Perhaps it hurt even more, she considered, when you actually knew them.
‘She would have been proud of you,’ she said, leaning her head against Jordan’s shoulder.
He lifted his arm and pulled her in closer. ‘Even though I didn’t look after my dad like she asked?’ he said, but it was half-hearted, and she knew it reflected habit more than what he believed now.
‘I think she would understand,’ Mila replied softly, knowing that the tales she’d told Jordan about his mother—the ones Greg had shared with her in his rare open moments—confirmed her words. Jade had been a lovely woman: stubborn, like all the Thomases, but with just as big a heart as her son.
‘I think she would, too,’ Jordan said eventually, and they walked a few steps further to the front of Greg’s grave. It was identical to Jordan’s mother’s, except that the words were about Greg.
‘“Loving husband and father. You will be missed,”’ she read aloud, and smiled. ‘It’s perfect, Jordan.’ Her throat closed, but she smiled up at him. ‘He did love you. Just in his own way.’
‘I know.’ Jordan laid a hand on the tomb and she waited, knowing that he needed time. ‘I know that you loved me, Dad. I wish we could speak just one more time, so I could tell you I love you, too. So that I could tell you I understand now, and that I forgive you.’ He took a shaky breath. ‘But I think you already know that.’
Mila’s heart broke for him, but she knew that it was healthy. It wouldn’t do for him to keep it all in any more.
When he didn’t say anything else, Mila said, ‘Thank you for everything, Greg.’ That was enough, she thought, but then she remembered something else. ‘Especially for the will. Seems like your plan was right all along.’
They smiled at each other, and then took a few more moments to say goodbye. The overwhelming grief she had felt since Greg’s death dulled to a throb in her heart, and that told her it would be okay. She and Jordan would be okay.
The tiny little tombstone that stood above the grave next to Greg’s still broke her heart, though.
The name they’d decided on and had engraved that week was bold in grey against the black marble stone. Below the name was a black-and-white picture of her and Jordan on the day she had given birth—they both had tears on their faces, and were both clearly heartbroken, but she had her son in her arms and it was their only family photo.
The dates on his tombstone were the date they’d found out they were expecting their child and the date they’d lost him. And below that was an inscription.
You were the light of our lives.
A light that will stay in our hearts for ever.
‘I still have that image of you in my head—you with our son in your arms...the absolute devastation and love on your face.’ He sucked in air, and she felt the sucker punch of his emotions—their emotions—right down to her gut.
‘Me, too. But with your face.’
She spoke because something inside her compelled her to. Perhaps because it was the first time they could acknowledge it together.
‘The dreams I have are about that moment a lot. I had only just felt him alive inside me, and then when I could see him he wasn’t.’ She was whispering now, her voice no longer willing to say the words that told her the wound inside her was still fresh. ‘I’m so glad you got to hold him while he was still alive.’
They clung to each other, and though she knew she was still healing she felt the glimmer of hope that sharing that moment with the only person who knew what she was going through had brought. Suddenly she was even more grateful for their second chance.
We’ll do it right this time, baby, she told her son, and her lips curved even through the tears.
‘He knows how much we love him.’ Jordan’s voice was raw as he spoke, but she saw the hope she felt inside reflected in his eyes.
‘He does. I’m sure our parents tell him that every day.’
The thought of their family together made her smile widen.
‘Yeah...’ He looked down at her. ‘I think so, too.’
It was a long time before either of them spoke again, but finally Jordan said, ‘We should get going. Karen will probably be there for the soundcheck soon.’
They headed back to the car together, and before she climbed in Mila looked back one more time. ‘We’ll visit them again soon, won’t we?’
Jordan kissed her hair. ‘Of course.’
She smiled at him, and couldn’t help but think that the people they had visited would have loved it that she and Jordan were a family again.
* * *
‘I’m sweating like a pig,’ Lulu said, and fanned herself with the clipboard that she insisted on using for her tasks instead of the tablet Mila was using.
Mila laughed, grabbing a bottle of water from the ice bucket behind the stage that Karen had walked out onto a few minutes ago and handed it to her friend.
‘The perks of growing a life inside you!’
Mila found she could say that now, after that morning, without a piercing pain going through her body. It was more like a dull ache in her heart that reminded her of her child, just like her significantly lowered fear of stairs. The necessity of this event had helped her overcome that fear, but she knew it was more than that, too. It was knowing that she could do it that helped her do it. And because of the person who had helped her reach that realisation.
‘No!’ Lulu said after gurgling down half the bottle. ‘There is no way you can tell me that you’re not getting as hot as I am.’
‘Honey, it’s ei
ghteen degrees. We’ve spent the past half an hour handing out blankets to our guests and setting up the outside heaters. You know it’s only you.’
‘Maybe it’s because I’ve been running around for the past week.’
‘And you know I love you for it. Especially when you look at how amazingly it’s turned out.’
She peeped out from the tent they had assembled backstage—just as they had for the first event—and a smile spread on her face.
The amphitheatre held about two hundred fifty people, which was about a hundred more than she had been expecting. Most of them were only there for Karen, but that didn’t matter since they had all still bought food from the vendors, still purchased wine from the vineyard. They had managed to set up the marquee so that it had more than enough space for everyone, and as she looked up she was treated to a stunning view of the stars.
‘It seems like a success.’
A voice broke through her thoughts and she turned to see Mark standing there, with a briefcase in one hand and some papers in the other, with Jordan behind him.
Her heart immediately responded to him being there, and she smiled at him before nervously asking Mark, ‘Did we tick all the boxes?’
Mark pulled his glasses down from the top of his head and read from the paper in front of him. ‘Well, your event is “under the stars”—excellent improvisation, by the way—and you have the same performer, you’re screening the same movie, you have most of the vendors from the original event, and you’ve provided me with all the documentation for those who couldn’t make it, as well as for their replacements. And you’ve done this all within the time limit.’
Mark removed his glasses.
‘So I would say, yes. Congratulations, you two, you’re officially the owners of Greg’s share of the vineyard. I’ll send the paperwork through in the coming weeks.’
Mark excused himself, and as soon as he was gone, Lulu let out a hoot.
‘This is wonderful news, you guys!’ She hugged them both, then waved a hand. ‘But, much as I would like to celebrate with you, my bladder is telling me there are things that take a slightly higher priority at the moment.’
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