by Clare Revell
Sam nodded. “Yeah.” She rubbed her eyes with her sleeve. She wanted to be here even less. She wanted to run and hide and give into the grief and pain that had never left her. “Whoever said time heals all wounds lied. Some wounds are too deep to ever go away.”
LaVera nodded. “He slept, I went out, came back, and he was gone. I blamed myself for a long time. If I’d woken him earlier, insisted he went for a walk with me or not let him have seconds of pudding, then maybe... But nothing would have changed it. I know that now.”
Tears rolled down Sam’s face.
“Losing a child to this must be harder. How old was she?”
“Imogen was six months old.” Adam said.
“She was a beautiful baby,” Dad said. “Just like her mum.”
“I have a photo.” Adam pulled out his wallet and held out the photo. The corners were battered and it was obviously well-fingered and loved.
Sam caught a glimpse as he handed it across. She sat cross legged on the sofa, a beaming Immy in her arms. “I didn’t know you kept that.”
He nodded. “Always.”
“She’s lovely,” LaVera said, handing back the photo.
Sam took it and gazed downwards. She looked so happy. Her arms ached to hold the baby she’d lost. She could almost smell the baby powder and the uniquely Immy smell that clung to the bedding and clothes and toys.
Grief overwhelmed her and she pushed back from the table. “Excuse me.” She ran towards the exit, sobs choking her, tears blinding her vision. She leaned against the front wall of the building, sobbing, the chill night air surrounding her.
“Sam?”
She looked up. Then Adam’s arms were around her and she clung to him, wishing he’d been there all those years ago, so she wouldn’t have had to face this on her own. After a few minutes, when the storm of tears passed, she pulled back.
Adam pressed a clean hanky into her hand. “Are you OK?”
Sam nodded. “I’m sorry…”
“Don’t be. They understand. So do I.” He paused. “We should go back in.”
She nodded and took the offered hand, walking back inside the restaurant with him. They sat just as the food arrived, and she looked at her father. He smiled slightly at her but said nothing.
Once the waitress had gone, Dad said grace.
Sam looked at her plate, wanting it even less than she had in the first instance. She picked up the salad crème. “How did you and Dad meet, LaVera?”
“In church, at the seniors’ lunch. I’d gone with a friend, and we sat at a different table to our usual one. This gentleman sat opposite me. I looked at him and these dark eyes sparkled across the table. Beaming smile, perfect teeth—you know, the kind you hate because yours are horrible and breaking.”
Sam smiled faintly. “Oh, yeah.”
“And he looked at me and said, ‘What’s a fine looking woman like you doing in a dingy church hall like this?’”
Dad grinned. “And she said, ‘Having dinner.’”
LaVera chuckled. “And he says, ‘That’s a coincidence, so am I.’ And we have been together ever since.”
“Sam,” Dad said. “It doesn’t mean I’m forgetting your mother, any more than LaVera is betraying Stan. I see your mother all around the house—in that rose bush she was forever pruning in the garden, and every time I look at you.”
Sam looked at him.
“I will always love her. Just like LaVera will always love Stan. Just because we are moving on, finding someone new, doesn’t mean we will ever forget our first loves.” He paused. “I could never forget your mother. After all, she gave me you.” He handed over a printed envelope. “We’d like for you to come to the wedding.”
“I’ll come.” Sam hugged her father tightly.
“I love you. I always have and always will.”
“Love you, too, Dad.” Finally, she pulled back.
Dad looked over at Adam. “Turner Street Baptist, a week Saturday at midday. We’d like for you to come as well.”
“I’d like to come. Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” He tilted his head. “It isn’t the wedding that makes a marriage. It is all that goes after it—the good and the bad and the love between the two that shows how strong the union is. You two make a good couple; the love is still there, I think.”
“Dad—”
“Sam, your old man knows a thing or two about people.”
“There’s nothing going on,” Sam insisted.
“Which is why Adam introduces himself as your husband, still wears his wedding ring, and carries your photo in his wallet. And that must be why you’re not divorced.”
Sam looked at Adam. He returned the look, and for the first time in a long time, she could see in his eyes the man she’d fallen for.
“Let an old man give you a piece of advice,” Dad said as they stood to leave after the meal. “Don’t let Imogen’s death still come between you. I was wrong about you, Adam. You’re a good man. Don’t let Sam slip through your fingers again.”
“Hey, I’m still here,” Sam objected.
Dad chuckled. “Why, so you are.”
They walked out to the cars and she hugged him goodbye. “See you next weekend.”
LaVera caught her hand. “I’d be honored if you’d be a bridesmaid. My son is giving me away and the girls are bridesmaids, but I was hoping…”
“I’d love to,” Sam said, hugging her.
“The color scheme is pastel colors—any shade is fine as the girls are coming as a rainbow. Let me know how much the dress is and I’ll send you the money.”
“No, you won’t,” Adam said. “We’ll get it.”
Sam looked at him as they were left alone. “Are you sure?”
He nodded. “We’ll go and look next week.”
“Thank you.” She paused. “And he’s wrong you know. About us. I bet I could kiss you now and it’d be like kissing my brother.”
“Really? What about the other day?”
“You thought I was drunk. I’m not now.”
“And how would you know what kissing your brother is like? You don’t have a brother.”
“You know what I mean,” she said.
“I’m not sure I do, as I wouldn’t want to kiss my brother.” He paused, holding her gaze.
“Only one way to find out.”
Adam moved closer, his hand caressing the back of her neck. His lips touched hers. His touch melted her, and she was only dimly aware of her Dad laughing as he drove away, before all conscious thought left her and all that mattered was Adam.
And he was so not her brother…
8
Sam sat in her office, papers everywhere. She had to know what Adam knew, and the answer was somewhere in the files. And if it took her all day, and all weekend, she’d find it.
She twisted the wedding ring on her finger. She’d put it back on after Adam dropped her off the previous evening. She wanted him back. She knew from kissing him that the spark was still there, and that he loved her the same way she loved him. Perhaps they could work through things and fix their marriage.
She wasn’t complete without Adam. Just like she wasn’t complete without God in her life. She needed them both to form a triangle. The circle was good, but a triangle would make her whole again.
She’d hoped he’d have been in the office by now, but perhaps something had come up with another of his cases and he was stuck in court somewhere.
The door opened. “Another message for Mr. West. What do I say?”
Sam sighed, wishing her staff knew how to knock. Perhaps she should send a company-wide memo about the importance of knocking and what a closed door meant. “Tell whoever it is to ring his office, not mine, please, Tessa. I have no idea where he is.”
Her PA nodded. “Will do.”
Sam turned back to the papers on her desk. She pushed a hand through her hair, trying to loosen a knot with her fingers.
The door opened again. “Sorry, it’s Mrs. Bryant ag
ain. She says it’s urgent she speak with Mr. West.”
“Just write the messages down. I’m trying to work here. And learn to knock, will you?”
“OK, sorry.” The woman backed out of the room.
Sam pulled the ring off her finger and slid it onto the chain around her neck. She tucked it inside her shirt. Best not to let anyone in the building see it. And if it was this Mrs. Bryant all the time, perhaps there was something going on between her and Adam.
Sam turned back to the files, her irritation and despair growing the more she read.
****
It was early afternoon before Adam arrived at Sam’s office. He’d spent a frantic morning in court, dealing with an emergency custody order, which had gotten messier as time went on. In the end the judge made the child a ward of the court, thus solving the problem for a week at least. With any luck he and the other lawyer would be able to agree on something by that time.
His heart thrilled at the thought of seeing Sam again. After the previous evening, he’d allowed himself to hope that things could change between them. He wanted to talk to her, see if she still felt the same way about him. And if so, maybe they would arrange some counseling with Pastor Jack to talk through what happened with Immy and to get a Biblical view on their marriage.
He smiled at her from the doorway. “Afternoon, Sam. How are you?”
Sam barely glanced up. “Fine. You’re late.” Her voice was as stilted as her body language.
“I left a message with your PA. I had to spend the morning in court. I came as soon as I could. What’s wrong?”
“I didn’t get any message. And there is nothing wrong.”
He set his briefcase down and shoved his hand in his pocket. “Yes, there is.”
“OK, fine.” Sam slammed down her pen and glared at him. “The problem is that woman in your office last night.”
“What about her?” Adam immediately went on the defensive.
“Mrs. Bryant, wasn’t it?”
“Yeah, and?”
“What’s going on between you?”
“Nothing.” He sat opposite her. “Why?”
“She’s left half a dozen messages here for you, that’s why.” Sam shoved a piece of paper at him.
Adam read it. All the messages were variants of Adam, ring me it’s urgent. Freddie.
“So, what does she need that’s so urgent she has to call for you here and not your office? Never mind the fact she’s calling you by your first name and signing them with her first name.”
Adam rolled his eyes. “It’s work related. My office probably told her I’d be here and didn’t realize I was in court for an emergency order.”
Sam scowled, raising her voice. “Mrs. Bryant isn’t your PA or a lawyer, I checked.”
“Anyone would think you were jealous,” he shot back.
She scoffed. “Me? Jealous? Of her?”
“Aren’t you?”
She pushed up on her arms and leaned over the desk at him. “You think you can win me back with saving my company, a couple of dinners, and a few kisses, do you? Is that it?”
Adam held his ground. “You asked me to kiss you, remember?”
“I was a fool then and a fool now. You won’t change.”
“What?” He gazed at the angry woman in confusion, struggling to keep up with the way she changed the topic. “What’s that got to do with me kissing you?”
“This woman is just work then, is she? Work always comes first with you. Before me, before Immy…”
Adam baulked. How could she do that to him, after last night when she broke down in such a public way? Immy dying wasn’t his fault; it was her fault and God’s fault. “Don’t you dare bring Immy into this. And work doesn’t come first. Not all the time. It didn’t then and it doesn’t now.”
Sam scoffed. “Are you having an affair with her?”
Adam shoved both hands into his pockets, resisting the temptation to storm out, but he knew that wouldn’t solve anything. He scowled. “What kind of a stupid question is that?”
“Oh, strike a nerve, did I?” she asked. Was that pain in her eyes?
“No, I am not having an affair! I thought you knew me better than that. There hasn’t been another woman since you. I told you, any relationship I have with Freddie is strictly professional. Nothing more. I’m married and so is she.”
Sam sucked in a deep breath and glanced at the door as someone knocked. “At least they knocked this time instead of barging in. Come in.”
Her PA stood there. “There’s a Mrs. Bryant here to see Mr. West. She says it’s urgent.”
“And here I was thinking this was my office.” She looked down at the papers on the desk.
“Tell Mrs. Bryant that I’ll meet her in main reception in five minutes.”
The PA nodded and retreated.
Sam glanced up. “Why did you marry me, Adam? I mean, you had your pick of the girls at uni. There was me, Violet, Sasha, and let’s not forget Victoria. You dated all of us at some point that term. Why pick me?”
He paused. Why? He loved her, he needed her. Why couldn’t she see that? “A baby needs two parents,” he told her. “And I wanted to take responsibility.”
Sam sucked in a deep breath. “Do us both a favor, Adam and file for divorce.”
A shard of ice speared him. Numbness filled every part of his body. Every hope he’d allowed to build overnight and on the way here, lay shattered into a myriad tiny pieces. He lowered his voice, trying to work past the lump in his throat. “Why?”
“Immy’s gone. Therefore, there is no reason to stay married.”
“If that’s what you want,” he managed.
“It is.”
His heart breaking, Adam picked up his briefcase and trudged to the door.
“Did you ever love me?”
He hesitated, but didn’t bother to answer. He shut the door behind him and sucked in a deep breath. Hopefully, Freddie would have gone. He really didn’t want to see anyone. Just wanted to go home, call the office and get someone else to take over this case ASAP.
He took the stairs rather than the lift and prayed with every step. He’d wanted things to go one way, and they’d gone totally the other. Surely things couldn’t get any worse.
His heart sank still further as he exited the stairs to find Freddie and Jason waiting in reception for him.
Adam slowly walked towards them, aware of the security guard and receptionist watching them. “Freddie, I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.”
Freddie smiled. “It’s OK, Adam. I apologize for having dragged you out of a meeting, only your office said you’d be here.”
“It’s fine.” He headed outside into the sunshine and rubbed the back of his neck.
“Are you OK, Adam?” Freddie asked.
“Not really. Sam thinks you and I are having an affair.
“We heard. Sorry.”
He looked at Jason. “Honestly, we’re not.”
Jason grinned. “I know, mate. I trust the pair of you. It’s fine. How about we go and find a café and talk? Unless you want to go back to your office?”
He nodded. “It might be better. And the coffee is free there.”
Half an hour later as they filled him in on their findings, Adam pushed his cup aside, afraid he’d throw up. Everything they’d uncovered pointed to Sam running the entire operation. The whole shebang led to her—the timings, computer logs, and paperwork.
Adam gathered the files and locked them in his safe.
“You have to hand them to the police, Adam,” Jason said, easing back in his chair.
“I know.” Adam rubbed the back of his neck.
“And you need to talk to her,” Freddie added. “Sort things out between the two of you properly.”
“There’s no point.” He locked the safe. “It’ll only turn into another fight.”
“But when she goes down for this, and that is when, not if,” Jason pointed out, “it’ll be too late unless you do it soon.”
/>
Adam nodded. “I can’t do anything until Monday, now. I’m away for the weekend.”
“The church retreat?” Freddie asked as she stood. “We never miss it.”
Adam nodded. “Yes. See you there.”
Jason looked at him. “Actually, want to come down with us? We have room in the car and as everything is on site, it’s one less car to find a space for.”
Adam nodded. “That would be great, thank you.”
Jason glanced at his watch. “Then we’ll come pick you up in an hour.”
“I’ll be ready.” He gave them a ten-minute head start, before going out to his car. He drove to the florist on Carnation Street and parked in the layby.
The shop bell over the door tinkled as he pushed it open.
Grace Chadwick smiled at him. “Adam, long time no see.”
“Hi, Grace. How’s the house coming on?”
Grace rolled her eyes. “Depends who you ask. I’m beginning to think Elliott meant it about painting every wall magnolia.”
Adam smiled. “You can always repaint them.”
“The day I move in. So, what can I do for you?”
“Do you have any sweet peas?”
“For you, of course.”
Adam pulled out his wallet. “Brilliant. As many as possible please.” He pulled out his bank card, then looked through the cards on the rack. “For delivery now, if you can.”
Grace nodded. “Sure. So who’s the lucky lady?”
He grimaced as he chose one with a rainbow on it. “It’s an apology, though I suspect it’ll be too little too late.” He handed over the card and his credit card.
“Never say never,” Grace said, ringing up the bill. “It’ll work out the way God wants it.”
“I hope so.”
****
Sam closed her eyes and buried her face in her hands. Asking Adam for a divorce wasn’t what she wanted. She done it in anger, but as she thought about it, maybe it was for the best. She had to cut all ties with him, to keep him out of the hole she had gotten herself into. Using Mrs. Bryant as an excuse had been a convenience, nothing more.
She knew Adam wasn’t cheating on her, knew he never would. The fact he still wore his wedding ring was proof of that. And it was a fair assumption that he, like her, still hadn’t given Immy over to God. She’d been mad at God for taking her daughter, and to some respects still was, but she needed to deal with one mess at a time. Right now that was the mess her company was in—which was also the mess she was in—and hoped Adam would get her out of.
