His pregnant mistress

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His pregnant mistress Page 14

by Carol Marinelli


  So deep was her pain, so violent her tears, it took a moment to register that the knot in her stomach wasn't a stitch, the gulping agony of her tears. Her hand shot to her stomach, fingers pushing into the tense knot of muscle, her breath catching in her throat.

  'Mia?' She could hear his voice, the angry de­mands of before gone now. 'Please, just let me in.'

  She didn't answer, instead she stood in the dark­ness, willing the moments to pass, willing to exert some control on her body. But just as she thought it was fine, that surely she had been mistaken, the pain returned, more intense this time than before, causing her to double over, a strangled scream escaping her lips as the full realization of her situation hit.

  'Mia?"

  As if sensing something was wrong his voice softened, the knocking on the door more urgent than angry now.

  'It's the baby.' Unlocking the door, she stood there, seeing his aghast, stricken face, the panic in his eyes.

  'It can't be...' He raked a hand through his hair, screwed his eyes closed with regret. 'It's too soon.'

  His calm attitude overwhelmed her, before gently easing her into the passenger seat, snapping into assertive mode, calm ap­parently unruffled, but she knew from the pounding muscle in his cheek as he barked orders in to the speaker phone that it was all an act, that he was as scared and as terrified as her.

  'This is my fault.' He glanced over, his knuckles white as he gripped the steering wheel. ‘I shouldn't have said anything, shouldn't have confronted—'

  'It's no one's fault.' Her toes were curling, each pain more intense than the last, her hand clinging onto the handle above the door in an effort to hold on. 'I had some backache, a few contractions this morning. Garth said there was a chance...'

  'You never told me...'

  She gave a hollow laugh.

  'When did you give me the chance, Ethan?'

  Oh, the bliss of the bright lights of the hospital, the sweet relief of making it as they screeched into the forecourt, a team of staff waiting with a wheelchair bundling her into knowing arms as Ethan raced around to the passenger side.

  'I'll just move the car.' His hands reached out for hers. 'I'll be with you in a moment...'

  'No!' Determined eyes met his, her hand shooting up, slowing the hive of activity. ‘Go home.' She saw the confusion in his eyes, heard the utter incredulity in his voice, but she was beyond comforting him, beyond trying to reason with him now. 'How the hell do you expect me to go home now?'

  'Go home, Ethan.' Tears were streaming down her face, but it had nothing to do with the pain that shud­dered her body and everything to do with the man who stood before her, the difficult, beautiful, complex man who over and over had spurned her love, who over and over had chosen to doubt her. 'I'll ring you when it's over.'

  'I need to be with you, Mia.' The staff were mov­ing on now, ushering her to the lift, and he raced behind, cramping himself between the closing doors and squeezing into the confined space. 'If we're ever going to make it then surely I should be there with you now, there beside you when you need me most.'

  'But I don't need you, Ethan.' The doors slid open, the corridors blurring as they moved her along, the familiar face of Garth a welcome focal point as she entered the unfamiliar.

  'We need to get her inside.' Garth's voice was calm, his manner assured. 'It's better that you leave, Ethan.'

  'Never'. Proudly he shook his head and she ached for him, ached for this strong, lonely man, suddenly trapped like a wounded animal.

  'Can we have a moment alone, Garth?' Amazingly her voice was calm, in control even; her request met with a questioning look from Garth, answered with a brief nod from Mia. 'Just a moment, please.'

  Alone she faced him, faced the man she loved, the man she wanted beside her now more than ever, but as hard as it was to ask him to leave, it was easier than letting him stay, glimpsing h is dazzling love...

  Until the next time.

  'I love you, Ethan,' she said softly. 'I love you, I always have, but what you fail to understand is that I don't need you. I haven't been living my life waiting for you to come back to me, haven't spent my days scheming how to get you back, or how then to keep you. The simple truth is that I've lived my life how I wanted it to be, made decisions I fully intended to see through—alone.'

  'But this morning...'

  'This morning was perfect.' Her eyes clouded over at the memory, weakening for a tiny moment, then holding firm. 'This morning was how it could have been, but, Ethan, I'm not prepared to live like this. I deserve to be loved unreservedly—'

  'You are.'

  She shook her head. 'It's as if you're waiting to be proven right, Ethan. Waiting for me to show my true colours...' She swallowed hard. 'One day I'll make a mistake, one day I'll undoubtedly do something that I'm not proud of; what then, Ethan? Tonight I can justify my actions; tonight you're sorry for the pain because it's you who's wrong. What happens when it's my turn to make a mistake, Ethan? What will happen to your unreserved love then?'

  'Mia, don't—'

  'Please.' She held up a trembling hand, couldn't take the pain a moment longer, couldn't let him in again only to have him shut her out. 'If you really love me you'll go home, Ethan; you’ll respect my wishes and walk away.'

  'No.' He found his voice then, gripped her hand as another contraction tore through her, even signalled for a nurse to take her to the people she needed right now.

  ‘I will never walk away from you again, Mia, but I will give you space, if that's what you need." She opened her mouth to protest, but he shook his head. 'I'll be here, Mia.' He gestured to t he waiting room. 'I won't come in, won't make, a sound, but if you change your mind, if you..." He didn't finish, just gave a proud nod as Garth stepped out, took the han­dles of the chair and wheeled her away.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Ethan felt it too.

  Every tortured, agonized, scream ripped through him, compounded his own pain, and rammed home what he had again thrown away, all that he had lost. He ached to go to Mia, needed to holding her, helping her, being there, but he didn't.

  And for once it wasn't pride that held him back, but respect.

  Wasn't his ego that stopped him from stalking through the delivery doors and demanding inclusion—but humility that forced him out.

  Pacing the tiny room, he felt he might explode, pathetic excuses for his behaviour springing to mind, and he tossed them all out, knowing it was too little, too late. Sinking into a chair, he rested his hands on his head, surveyed with painful honesty the devasta­tion he alone had caused—as trusting as a child she had forgiven him, loved him all over again and how had he repaid her?

  Black rivers of bile swirled in his stomach, fist clenched against his temples, each gut-wrenching scream emanating from the birthing suite lacerating him deeper, twisting the knife wound he had inflicted on himself.

  'Ethan?' The tiny whimper had his head jerking up, eyes snapping open, every nerve taut; sure, sure he must be mistaken.

  'Ethan?' This time he knew he hadn't misheard, this time her shout echoed down the hallway, forcing him to his feet, spinning on the spot for a futile mo­ment, torn, literally torn with indecision. His first in­stinct was to race to her side, to be there with her, for her, but he held back, trying to do the rig ht thing, to do the one thing he hadn't been able to manage till now— to give her the benefit of the doubt.

  'I think you're wanted.' Garth's face was at the door, but it wasn't friendly.

  'I thought she might be cursing me...' He ran a shaking hand over his chin, took a few steadying breaths before nodding to the doctor. 'Can I go in?'

  'For now.' Garth caught his sleeve as he darted out of the waiting room, fixed Ethan with a firm glare. 'But if she asks you to leave, you go.' His voice was firm and Ethan nodded, but Garth hadn't quite fin­ished. 'And if I ask you to leave, the same thing goes; she doesn't need her mind messed with right now.'

  He nearly agreed, such was his devastation he al­most meekly complied
, but his humility was reserved for Mia, her acceptance all he needed. His back might be against the wall, but he'd go down fighting.

  'I'll leave only if Mia asks.' As Garth opened his mouth to argue Ethan got there first, eyeing the doctor's T-shirt and jeans with distaste. 'Shouldn't you be in theatre gear or something? Shouldn't you have a mask?'

  "This is a natural birthing suite,' Garth responded tartly. 'Our policy is to make the environment as homely as possible for the ladies, to keep hospital attire and equipment to the minimum.'

  'God!' Ethan whistled. 'Is this the hippy mumbo-jumbo I'm paying for? What if something goes wrong?'

  'Birthing is a natural process.'

  He didn't have time for this, didn't have time to stand and argue, not when she was calling f or him.

  'Look, Garth, just do your job.' Ethan bristled. 'I'm the one paying your over-inflated bill, remember?'

  He stalked into the room, where it took his eyes a moment to adjust to the semi-darkness, the overwhelming scent of incense filling his nostrils, the bi­zarre sound of birds chirping filling his ears and two man-hating midwives staring at him suspiciously as he stood there, clearly overdressed in his forma I suit, watching as they massaged Mia's back, stroked the hair back from her drenched forehead, comforted her in a way he felt only he should be able to do.

  'She's in pain.' Ethan's eyes swung to the doctor as he entered behind him, a guttural groan escaping Mia's lips as she screwed her eyes closed and gritted her teeth.

  'She's doing wonderfully,' Garth said, his patron­izing tone the very last thing Ethan needed right now.

  'Give her something...' Ethan insisted, but it was Mia who answered.

  'I want this to be natural,' she gasped.

  'Sod natural.' He raked a hand through his hair, berating himself all over again; all the things he had wanted to say, all the things he had promised he'd do if only she called him, seemed to have fleed from his mind. He'd never felt more scared, more out of con­trol in his life! Everyone in the room seemed to know what they were doing; every one had a p lace in this except him. 'You're in pain.'

  'Oh, this isn't pain.' Her eyes met his then, eyes that seemed dull now, eyes that told the tale of all he had put her through. "This is nothing compared to what you did to me.'

  'I know.'

  For ever the silence dragged on. He wanted them all to go, to leave, to say all he had in private, but no one seemed to be going anywhere.

  'I'm sorry,' he said finally, knowing how lame his words sounded, swearing internally to make it all up to her just as soon as this was over, just as soon as they were alone, but Mia, it see med, had other ideas.

  'If I let you stay, Ethan, if I let you be a part of this...' She straightened up then, the agony over till the next time, nodding to the midwife to let her go, pulling her massive oversize T-shirt further down her thighs in a bizarre attempt to make sure she was de­cent. 'Seven years ago you walked away from me without a backwards glance, never gave me another thought—' she started, but Ethan shook his head, stopping her at the first hurdle.

  'I thought about you every day.'

  'Liar,' Mia snarled.

  'No...' Reaching in his jacket, he pulled out his wallet, snapping it open and holding it under her face, watching every flicker of her reaction as she stared at the photo. There they were, in a photo taken at the restaurant on their first meeting. Younger, happier, so, so much more carefree than t hey were now, tears fill­ing her eyes as she stared at the face that had fuelled her dreams all those long, lonely nights, t he face she had glimpsed that one magical time when the world had been good and kind.

  'When did you get this?'

  'On my way back to Sydney?' His voice was ten­tative, unsure of her reception. 'You've been next to my heart since then, Mia.'

  'So why...?' Her voice trailing off, she doubled over as pain took hold and as the midwives stepped forward, as she leant again on them, Ethan bit back a curse, held it in till she could speak again, resisted the urge to push them away, to clear the room and just be with her.

  'What the hell is that?' He bristled as an annoying chirrup filled the room, snapping a finger on the off button of the CD player, the one thing in the room he knew how to operate.

  'It's the relaxing sounds of a rainforest.' The midwife shot him a look.

  'Torture in the rainforest, more like,' Ethan murmured.

  'It helps me to focus,' Mia gasped, but Ethan shook his head, walking over, and such was his presence, such was the purpose in his movement, even the pro­prietary midwives stepped back. Taking her arms, he readied her, held on to her till the contraction finally subsided.

  "Focus on this,' he said softly, staring right at her, not blinking, not moving, just holding her with his eyes.

  And suddenly it was just the two of them, the world melting into the background, a temporary reprieve from her pain as she listened, watched that delicious mouth move, heard the occasional falter in his voice as finally he delivered his truth.

  'You're right, Mia: all along I've been waiting for you to prove me right, waiting for you to somehow slip off the pedestal I put you on, and you ask why. Why couldn't I believe you? Why didn't I think love could be that simple? Because...' a beat of a pause stilled him, and she saw the aching chasm of despair in his eyes, almost reached out to halt him, to stop him reducing himself to the awful truth, but she needed to hear it to understand it, and perhaps, more poignantly, knew Ethan needed to voice it too .

  ‘I'd never known love. Never had it, never felt it and I never missed it either, couldn't miss what I didn't know.' His words were delivered without a trace of self pity, but they were steeped in painful truth. 'And then you came along, the prettiest, sweetest thing I'd ever seen in my life , stepped into my world and straight into my heart as if I'd surely spent my whole life waiting, and I couldn't believe it was that easy, couldn't believe that was all there is to it— that you fell in love and lived happily ever after.'

  Tears were streaming down her face, angry ones, but not at him, but for all he'd been through, for the lonely nights of his childhood, for the shallow love of a cheque­book, and there was pride in her eyes too that this difficult, brooding man could somehow admit the truth, could, in front of this most hostile audience, lay open his heart and share his pain.

  'I should have told you sooner, but Richard and I...' She started, words trailing off as her body took over. 'You have to let me in, Ethan, have to come to me with what you're feeling, what you're thinking, run things by me before racing off to your own conclusion.'

  'I know.'

  She thought she could do it, thought she had it all in order, but just when she gained a semblance of control, just when she thought an end was in sight, the ground shifted again, her whole epicentre shifting, filled with a desperate need to push, an urgent primal need engulfing her, yet making her strong, propelling her into action, the hands of time forcing a decision, because if he stayed now, if he shared in this precious, imminent moment then the ties that bound them would be too tight to ever leave.

  'So tell me.' Her tiny jaw was set in grim deter­mination, her face a glistening pink sheen as she stared defiantly at him.

  'Tell you what?'

  'What you're thinking, what you're feeling. I need to know, Ethan.'

  "That I love you.' Perplexed, he stared at her as she shook her head angrily, her hands clutching her stomach. 'That next time something happens I'll ask you—'

  'Not good enough, Ethan. I need to know what's in here.' Her hand thumped his chest, her e yes im­ploring him to understand. 'I need to know how you're feeling. I can't live with your capricious moods, can't keep trying to second-guess what's go­ing on in that closed mind of yours. I need you to let me in...'

  He didn't know what she wanted, couldn't fathom what she needed, his mouth opening and closing, his mind racing to find the words that were needed. Then like a swirling fog lifting he understood, understood that his doubts were okay, that he could voice them, say them, share
them.

  'I want to bring up the baby as mine.' That stiff upper lip trembled as her eyes finally met his. 'I want to be like a father to it, but I still want him to know the truth, want him to know about his real—'

  'It might be a she,' Mia corrected.

  'She sounds just as good,' Ethan responded quickly. ‘I just want to be there beside you, somehow make up for all the time we lost, all the time I made us...'

  'And?' There was nothing soft about her voice, a snapped command as need took over, as a baby that really needed to be born decided it had waited long enough. 'Isn't there something else you should be saying at this point, Ethan? Isn't there something I might really need to hear right now?'

 

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