“Nice.”
“Yeah, it’s my sister’s house. I rent from her. It’s a pretty good neighbourhood.” Lots of young families and children. That had been another good reason to bury myself in work, instead of coming home to hear kids playing nearby. Reminders of what I’d lost were everywhere.
“Cool. I moved up from Dunedin a few weeks ago. It’s been really good to make a friend.”
I looked both ways before pulling out and into the street. “I’m glad. I’m assuming you’re talking about me.” I pulled up at a red light.
“It’s not that people aren’t friendly, but I haven’t had much time to socialise.”
The traffic light went green, and we moved through the streets lined by amber streetlights that flashed past us as we drove toward the hospital.
Although the journey was silent, it wasn’t uncomfortable. Being in Dylan’s presence didn’t make me want to freak out as I thought it might have; spending time with someone like this wasn’t as weird as maybe it should have been.
I turned into the hospital car park, and Dylan pointed me toward his car as I drove to the staff area. Pulling into the park next to him, I stopped, leaving the engine running. Any chill was gone from the interior of the car, and I wanted to keep it that way.
“Thanks for a great evening,” he said.
“Thank you. It was nice.”
“Only nice?” He had those pretty eyes of his fixed on me, licking his lips as the tension in the car rose. There was that awkward, icky feeling again, the one that told me I was crossing into dangerous territory.
“Okay, I really appreciate you helping me eat those fries. I never would have finished that bowl myself.” Deflect, deflect, deflect.
His lips curled into a smarmy smile. “I don’t know. You have a hell of an appetite for someone that small. I bet you could have demolished the lot.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Don’t push your luck.”
Dylan opened the door, stepping out of the car, and bent as he turned. “I push my luck a lot, Doctor Brown.”
With that he closed the door, leaving me shaking my head and smiling to myself. He might be a terrible flirt at times, and I didn’t know much more about him than I had before despite us spending a little time together, but he liked me, and he seemed sweet underneath that flirty exterior.
Driving along the motorway to home, my mind kept wandering back to our evening. He was looking for more than a friend—that much was clear.
Was I ready for that?
Chapter 9
For the first time in a long time, I woke up not being a grump. I was notorious in my family for being a sloth in the morning, slow to move, my hair scattered to the four winds, which was pretty remarkable given how straight it was.
I stood in the bathroom, brushing it out with a smile on my face. Apart from the odd snag that sill left me swearing like a trooper, nothing could get me down.
I’d enjoyed the previous night. Dylan’s attention had been flattering, but not pushy. It hadn’t felt like a date, but at the same time, this wasn’t something that was going to stay platonic. Not with the way he’d flirted.
Commitment was way out of the picture. After spending such a big chunk of my life with Connor, throwing myself into something serious fast was a bad idea. I’d always been impulsive, but even I knew when to put the brakes on.
Maybe we could keep it light. Have evenings out eating chips and drinking sodas with no stress or pressure to become a couple. I’d never tried anything casual before.
No doubt Dylan had some idea in his head of what he wanted from this. He certainly seemed to have something going on behind that smile.
Shit.
I still had the text from Connor burning a hole in my bag. Should I reply? Should I ignore it? Should I curl up and cry from the buried pain I’d managed to push down? The sick feeling that sometimes lingered in my stomach wouldn’t stay though, not if I followed through with the promise I’d made Will.
Life shouldn’t be so hard.
Will was waiting when I got to work, a takeaway coffee cup in hand, which he passed to me as I reached him.
I shot him a sideways glance as I accepted it. “What’s going on?”
“Just wanted to make sure you were doing okay. I know Ali texted you last night.”
Our steps were slow toward our lockers.
“I’m fine. Just needed some time out.”
“But you’re going to follow up with that counselling?” It was a question, not a demand. Will wasn’t enough of a dickhead to think he could crack down on me for that, but I had promised a friend that I would.
“Yes. I’ll call today and make an appointment.”
He patted me on the back as we turned the corner. “Good. The way you were yesterday …”
“What?” I stopped at the door to the women’s locker room.
“You had me worried. I know we haven’t known each other well for long, but I’ve seen you down, Vanessa, and yesterday was a bad day for you.”
I swallowed hard. He was right. People said you had to hit rock bottom sometimes before you could see a way out. If that wasn’t what yesterday was about, I didn’t know what was. Maybe facing that had helped contribute to that lighter feeling this morning.
“I know. I appreciate you two so much. There’s no way I could have made it through these past weeks, months without having you in my life.”
He smiled, winking as he turned to go toward the boys’ locker room. “See you for lunch?”
“Hopefully. Depends on how crazy today is.”
Will nodded, pushing the door open and disappearing inside. I let out a loud breath, leaning against the wall with my eyes closed. I hadn’t told the truth last night. That just wasn’t me. He was right; I needed help. Was it that hard to face up to everything that had happened? To get the old Vanessa back?
The one who didn’t hold things in.
IN THE QUIET at home the next morning, I called the toll-free number on the card I’d picked up from the maternity ward, chickening out twice before finally letting it ring through to reception.
“Good morning, Fertility Counselling.”
“Hi. My name’s Vanessa Brown. I’d like to make an appointment.”
“We have several free tomorrow if it suits.”
I swallowed. I hadn’t thought how quickly I’d have to face my demons, but I’d come this far. “Sounds good. I’m working in the afternoon. Are there any morning appointments?”
“I’ve got a space at ten a.m. with Doctor Julia Johnson.”
My mouth was dry, and I licked my lips to speak. “Sure. Sounds good.”
When the call was finished, I put the phone down and pulled my knees up to my chest, tucking myself into the corner of the couch. In my own little space I was safe, but talking to someone I didn’t even know made me sweat. Talking to people I did know was hard enough.
No one knew what was in my heart—the sadness that came over me whenever I saw a pregnant woman, or someone with a baby. Even if they were strangers, it was a constant reminder of the worst time of my life. Yes, I was still hung up on it, but wasn’t that normal?
I scrolled through the messages on my phone, stopping at Connor’s. He deserved a response, but what would I say? I’d thought I was doing okay before having to confront what had happened. Now I’d be going to counselling and reliving it all over again.
No. I wasn’t okay. Not yet.
Work was distracting, and I got busy as soon as I got there, keeping myself occupied while I tried to keep my mind off my upcoming session.
Will passed me in a corridor partway through the afternoon and waved. “How’s it going?”
“Busy, but good. By the way, I booked the counsellor’s appointment.”
He grinned. “Good. I hope it makes things better.”
“Surely it can’t make things worse.”
I yelped as he gripped my shoulder so hard it hurt. “What was that for?”
“For taking th
at step. I know it was hard.”
Letting out a long deep breath, I shifted closer to him. “I don’t know how tomorrow is going to go, but you pushed me to make the right decision. This is something I should have done a long time ago, straight after the miscarriage, and before things with Connor turned to crap.”
In the distance, I spotted Dylan walking toward us. As he came closer, I couldn’t take my eyes from his, and he gave a little smile just for me.
“Vanessa?” Will’s voice broke me out of my trance.
“Sorry, what?”
“Did you want to grab a pizza tonight? Ali’s studying, so she wants me out of her hair.”
I turned my attentions back to my friend, the one who had helped me more than I could ever thank him for. “Sure, sounds good.”
“I’m sure there’s some crappy movie on that we can watch.”
My mind was already wandering back to the other man in my life.
Well, maybe he could be.
Chapter 10
The counselling place was in a brand-new, swanky building, a far cry from the places I’d worked in. Maybe I should have studied psychology.
“Vanessa Brown to see Doctor Johnson.”
The receptionist was an older lady, one with a kind smile. She made me think of home, and Ella, and to a lesser extent, Mum. I took the clipboard she handed me. “Take a seat and fill out this form. She’ll be with you shortly.”
I sat down, filled out the form and picked up a magazine, flicking through it without reading. What was I doing? Pouring my heart out to someone I didn’t know didn’t seem like me, although I hadn’t had a problem doing that with Ali. That was different; she’d been friendly. This woman would be neutral and might even tell me how horrible I’d been to Connor.
As if I didn’t know already.
“Vanessa Brown?”
I looked up, dropping the magazine back onto the table. In front of me was a tall, dark-haired woman. She had the same kind smile as the receptionist, and I took a deep breath as I smiled back.
“I’m Julia. Come through.”
Standing, I followed her through to her office. It was roomy and bright, catching the mid-morning sun through the large windows. There were two large couches in the centre of the room, and she nodded toward one where I sat, my stomach churning with nerves.
“How about you tell me a little bit about why you’re here.” She sat opposite me, relaxing into her chair.
“I had a miscarriage.”
She nodded. “How far along were you?”
“Eight weeks.”
For a sliver of a moment, I felt sure she’d pause, narrow her eyes, and tell me that was hardly anything. That maybe I should get some real issues. That maybe I shouldn’t have let it make a mess of everything.
Instead, she nodded sympathetically. “Miscarrying at any stage can bring with it a whole raft of emotions. This is a place where I hope you’ll feel free to open up, and you can tell me anything.”
“Okay.” I sighed. “I don’t even really know where to begin.”
“Wherever you feel comfortable.”
None of it made me comfortable. But I was here now, and maybe I could put some of this to rest. It didn’t matter how much I protested or pushed thoughts of my miscarriage away, it weighed on my mind every single day in one way or another.
Her smile was so reassuring, and her attention was focused on me. I needed to do this; I needed to talk and get this out of the way. At least then I could say I kept my promise to Will.
“I have a friend who thinks I needed to ask for help.”
“You don’t think you do?”
I shrugged. “I’m a doctor. I had a patient who came in with a suspected miscarriage. I didn’t deal too well with it. But that’s par for the course, right?”
Julia nodded. “I think it is. But now you have to decide if I can help you deal with it better in future.”
“Now?”
“Well, after we’ve finished today’s session.”
Tears rolled down my cheeks. I hadn’t even spoken much about it yet, wanting to hold it in, but now was the right place to let it all out.
“Everything just got so screwed up,” I whispered.
She leaned forward. “You can tell me whatever you want. If you don’t want to tell me everything, that’s fine. If there are times you don’t want to talk at all, that’s fine too.”
I had to do this. I had to get this out of my system to move forward.
“I lost my baby, and then my boyfriend.” I shifted my gaze to the ceiling. “It’s all my fault.”
“You think losing the baby was your fault?” Her deep brown eyes caught mine as I looked back down.
“Maybe not. Though I wasn’t sure about having it at first.”
“And your boyfriend?”
“I told him it was over and he left.” I sniffed. “I couldn’t handle it all.”
“Have you heard from him since?”
I closed my eyes. That text still sat on my phone unanswered. Even the thought of it brought tears to my eyes—that he still cared enough to check up on me. He might have a new girlfriend, but I was still the biggest bitch ever for not replying.
When I opened my eyes, Julia had a box of tissues in her hand, offering them to me. I took one, wiping my cheeks and blowing my nose.
“I got a text from him a few days ago.”
“Did you reply?”
Pain filled my chest, that needy ache that told me I was such a bad person. In all of this, Connor hadn’t done anything wrong.
Shaking my head, I picked at my fingers. “I don’t know what to say. He just said he hoped I was okay, but I’m scared if I reply I’ll just somehow hurt him more.”
I looked back up and met her gaze.
“You care about how he feels.”
“Of course I do. He was the first guy I really loved. I had a boyfriend before him, but Connor understood me more than anyone.”
A smile crossed Julia’s face. There wasn’t anything in this that I hadn’t shared with someone else along the line, but the act of having someone neutral listening was comforting. She had no sides in this, no agenda.
“But you’re not together anymore.”
I sniffed, swiping my nose with the tissue. “I couldn’t deal with everything. He was smothering, and I know he was trying to take care of me, but I couldn’t deal with it. What’s wrong with me?”
Shaking her head, Julia touched my hand. “Nothing. All of this is normal because there is no normal. The way you feel, the way he did—we all react in different ways.”
“I broke his heart.”
“I see a woman with a broken heart in front of me. Don’t discount your own pain. You’re allowed to feel it.”
Slowly, I nodded and reached for another tissue. Licking my lips, I let out a sigh. “I think I feel guilty because I didn’t want the baby at first. Connor did.”
“At first?”
“I wanted to get ahead in my career before we started a family.” Sniffing, I shifted my gaze to the ceiling. “I was angry with myself for getting pregnant. He was excited from the start.”
She leaned back. “Is that how you still felt when you lost the baby?”
“No. I realised that we’d made it. This was going to be a little part of the both of us. I looked forward to it.”
We sat in silence for a moment as I reached for more tissues, wiping my streaming eyes.
“Vanessa, do you want to come back for another session?”
Panic gripped me. What had I done wrong? I frowned as I met her eyes again. “Why?”
“You want to talk, I’ll listen. You want to scream, I’ll stick my fingers in my ears. If you need a safe place, come and see me. I get the impression you’ve found it hard to talk to anyone about this from what you’ve said.”
Confused, I nodded. That was what I’d thought this whole thing was about.
“I’m telling you this because you’ve done so well today, and I don’t wan
t you to stop. I want you to move forward.” A smile crossed her face. “I think this will help you move forward.”
So did I.
MY SHIFT STARTED AT MIDDAY, and I headed straight to work after my session.
Going to work so soon after my appointment might have been a mistake.
My focus was completely shot, and I had to work hard to concentrate. I buckled down and got on with it, shutting all the sad thoughts out. Talking about it had brought all my feelings to the surface, and I counted down the hours until it was dinnertime.
Instead of the staff cafeteria, I headed out to a small patch of garden down the back of the hospital. By now some of the security doors were closed, and patient access to this area was cut off.
I sat on a little bench and took a breath of fresh air. Well, as fresh as city air could be. These were the kind of times when I missed the farm, lying in the grass and looking up at the dark sky sprinkled with stars. I’d never appreciated it when I was there—now I longed for it. From the road outside, I heard cars, the constant rumble of traffic persisting despite it being evening. It brought me comfort sometimes, and at times like this, when I wanted quiet in my head, it irritated the hell out of me.
“Hey.”
I looked up to see Dylan on his way out the door toward me. “Hi.”
“You okay?”
I nodded. “Just taking a moment.”
He sauntered toward me, sitting on the bench. “Busy day?”
“I saw a counsellor today about my miscarriage.”
“Oh.” Dylan examined me closely in the failing light. “Did you want to go for a drink again? You can tell me about it. If you want to.”
I let out a large breath. “I could do with a drink. But I think I’ve had enough of talking today. I just want some quiet time.”
“Fair enough.” He placed his hand over mine. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry. It must have been hard.”
“That’s a bit of an understatement.” Tears pricked my eyes. Pull yourself together, Brown.
Moments passed. Dylan’s presence was calming. I didn’t mind his hand on my own. Maybe this was part of moving forward, making a break from the heartbreak of the past. He seemed interested, but not pushy.
In a Heartbeat (Lifetime Book 2) Page 7
