The Fiancé He Can't Forget

by Caroline Anderson

  ‘Can I have a cuddle?’ she asked tearfully, so he tipped the blinds in the door, turned down the lights and lay down beside her, easing her into his arms.

  ‘You’ve really been through the mill, haven’t you?’ he murmured, holding her close, and she sniffed again and burrowed closer. ‘It’s OK, I’ve got you. You’re all right,’ he said softly, and gradually the little shuddering sobs died away, and he felt her body relax, her breathing slowing as she slid into sleep.

  He stayed there for an hour, until there was a quiet tap on the door and it opened to reveal Rachel, the nurse from SCBU.

  ‘How is she?’

  ‘Asleep,’ he mouthed. ‘Problem?’

  ‘He’s brought up his feed and he’s hungry again. Shall I bring him to her, just for a minute? Don’t move her. She’s been a bit weepy today. I think she missed you while you were away.’

  Had she? He woke her gently. ‘Sweetheart, the baby needs feeding again, but you don’t have to move. Rachel’s bringing him.’

  She made a sleepy little sound of protest, opened her eyes and breathed in shakily. ‘Oh, I’m so tired, Matt. I can’t do this.’

  ‘Yes, you can. Just feed him. All you have to do is sit there. We’ll do the rest.’

  She let him help her up against the pillows, and stared at him searchingly. ‘Why are you doing all of this for me?’ she asked, sounding genuinely perplexed, and he gave a soft laugh.

  ‘Because I love you—both of you,’ he replied, as if it was obvious, and then Rachel came in and there wasn’t time to say any more.

  But it stayed with her all night, the words keeping her company every time she woke to feed the baby or go to the loo or just to turn over, and although she wasn’t sure if she could trust them, still they comforted her.

  It might be true, she thought. Or at least, if he hung around long enough, maybe it would become true. People did learn to love each other, given time.

  One day at a time, she told herself, just as she had through her pregnancy. One day at a time…

  She went home with Joshua two days later.

  Her blood pressure was much closer to normal, her hands and feet and face were her own again, and his jaundice had cleared up, so they were to be allowed out, and it couldn’t come soon enough for her.

  Matt came to fetch her, armed with a couple of bags. He was a few minutes late, but he’d been busy, he said. On the phone, probably, she thought, sorting out one of his cases in London, but he produced some clothes for her and the baby.

  ‘They’ll probably drown him,’ he said, ‘but they were supposed to be for babies of his weight.’

  He looked out of his depth—strangely, for a man so at home with babies, but they were usually either still tucked up inside their mothers or slippery and screaming when he handled them, so all things considered he was doing well, and she smiled at him.

  ‘I’m sure they’ll be fine. Better too big than too small.’

  ‘They won’t be too small,’ he assured her.

  They weren’t. She had to turn back the cuffs, and when he bent his legs his little feet disappeared, but he’d soon grow out of the first size. They always did.

  ‘He looks really cute,’ she said, smiling at Josh. ‘Don’t you, my gorgeous?’

  The baby stared at her with startlingly blue eyes, so thoughtful.

  ‘I wonder what he makes of us?’ Matt said softly.

  ‘I don’t know. I wonder if he knows I’m his mother?’

  ‘Of course he does. He’ll know your voice.’

  It was a lovely thought. She’d said as much to many mums over the years, but this time it was her baby, and she was the mother, and the thought was curiously centring.

  ‘Right, all set?’

  She nodded. ‘I’ve packed my things—oh, Matt, we’ll need a car seat! I didn’t even think of it!’

  ‘All done,’ he said calmly. ‘It’s in the car.’

  She had a committee to see her off. ‘Isn’t anybody in labour?’ she asked wryly, as one by one they all hugged her and said goodbye.

  ‘Go on, off you go, and keep in touch,’ said Rosie, one of the midwives, hugging her again, and Matt closed the car door, got into the front and drove her home.

  Bliss, she thought as he pulled up in the car port at the back and helped her out. She could sit in the garden and listen to the birds, and spend time in the conservatory soaking up the sun with Josh at her side.

  They went through the conservatory into the kitchen, and she walked slowly in and looked around. In the middle of the dining table was a huge bunch of flowers in a tall vase, and they stopped her in her tracks.

  ‘Oh, they’re lovely! Who are they from?’

  He put the baby seat and her bags down on the floor and gave her a wry smile. ‘Me—just to welcome you home.’

  ‘Oh, Matt—thank you. Thank you for everything…’

  She hugged him, letting her head rest against his chest for a few moments, but it wasn’t fair to hold him at arm’s length for months and then lean on him when it suited her, so she straightened up and moved away, walking slowly through her house, touching it as if she was making sure it was still here, grounding herself.

  ‘I bought a few things for the baby,’ he said. ‘They’re upstairs.’

  She made her way up there, and found Matt had made himself thoroughly at home.

  She’d seen his laptop in the sitting room as she’d put her head in, and his wash things were in the bathroom, set out neatly on the window sill above the basin, and he’d taken over the back bedroom.

  He obviously meant what he’d said about being around for her, she realised, and the implications of sharing her house with him, even in the short term, began to dawn on her.

  She went into her bedroom, and found he’d changed the sheets on her bed—or someone had. Daisy? Surely not, so soon after having Thomas, but maybe she’d just suggested it and supervised. Daisy had got good at supervising towards the end of her pregnancy, she thought with a smile.

  Whatever, it meant she was coming home to clean, crisp linen on the bed, and she had a sudden longing to climb into it and sleep for hours.

  And then she looked beyond the bed, and spotted the pretty Moses basket draped with white embroidered cotton by the far side.

  ‘Oh, Matt!’ She trailed her fingers lightly over it, and her eyes filled. ‘This is lovely—really pretty. Thank you. And all these clothes!’ She stared at the little pile of baby clothes and accessories on the chest of drawers, touching them as if she didn’t quite believe they were real. She’d put it off for so long, been so afraid to take this pregnancy for granted, and he’d just calmly come in right at the end and picked up all the pieces. He didn’t need to do that, and she’d had no right to ask…

  She felt a tear spill over and trickle down her cheek, and she brushed it away. ‘Thank you so much.’

  ‘Don’t be silly, it’s nothing. I didn’t get many clothes. I didn’t want to overdo it and you’re bound to be deluged with presents, so they’re only the basic vests and sleep suits and things to start him off, but he’ll have grown out of them in five minutes anyway.’

  She nodded. She had already been given some clothes, cute little things for him to grow into, and she knew he was right. ‘They’re just perfect. Thank you, you haven’t overdone it at all, it’s just what I would have got if I’d been a bit more proactive.’

  He gave her a wry smile. ‘I can quite see why you weren’t, it’s a bit overwhelming in there, isn’t it? And as for the pram business,’ he went on, rolling his eyes, ‘I spent an hour in there being given a guided tour of how they fold and what clips on what and how they come apart and turn round and zip together, and some have pram inserts and car seats and face this way or that—by the time she’d finished I was utterly confused, so I just bought a seat and a base to put in my car for today, and whatever else you want you’ll have to sort out yourself because frankly I think it’s going to be down to personal choice and what you need it for, and
I have no idea where you would even start!’

  She bit her lip, picturing him in a sea of dismantled pushchairs, and she just wanted to hug him. Or laugh.

  She ended up doing both, and he wrapped his arms round her and hugged her back, and for a moment they just stood there in each other’s arms and held each other.

  She could have stayed there forever, but that really wasn’t wise or practical, so she let him go and stepped back, before she got too used to it, and looked at the Moses basket again.

  ‘This is so pretty.’

  ‘It won’t last long, he’ll outgrow it in a few months. I nearly got a crib, but I thought you could carry this downstairs and put him out in the garden in it, or in the conservatory, or in the sitting room in the evening, even take him round to see Daisy—it seemed to have all sorts of possibilities that the crib just didn’t, and it doesn’t stop you having a crib later, or even now if you wanted to. You could just use it downstairs. And, yeah, I thought it looked the part,’ he added with a wry grin.

  His talk of taking it downstairs held huge appeal. ‘Can we take it downstairs and put him in it now? It’s such a lovely day, and I’ve really missed the sunshine, being trapped in the hospital. It would be lovely to sit in the conservatory with the doors open and just enjoy the fresh air, really.’

  ‘Sure. It’s easy.’ He looked pleased, as if he was glad his idea had met with her approval, and he lifted the basket, folded the stand and carried them both down.

  She followed him more slowly, still a little tender, and by the time she’d taken Joshua out of the car seat and followed Matt through to the conservatory he was setting it up.

  ‘Here, out of the sun?’ he asked, and she nodded.

  ‘That’s lovely. Thank you.’

  She laid the baby in it, and he stretched and yawned, his little arms flopped up by his head, the hat askew. ‘He looks pretty chilled,’ she said with a smile, and Matt laughed.

  ‘Daddy’s boy,’ he said with a ridiculously proud grin. ‘I always used to lie like that, if the photos can be believed. Cup of tea?’

  ‘Oh, that would be brilliant.’ She sat down on the chair carefully, her stitches pulling a little, and watched her baby sleeping. It was turning into her favourite occupation, she thought with a smile.

  ‘Better now?’

  He was lounging in the doorway, arms folded, one leg crossed over the other, looking utterly at home, and she realised it would be only too easy to get used to having him around.

  ‘So much better,’ she said, her words heartfelt. ‘Matt, I’m so grateful to you for all you’ve done this last week. You just dropped everything, and I never expected you to—

  ‘You didn’t offer me the chance to discuss what I wanted to do, what role I wanted in your lives,’ he pointed out gently, trying to keep the simmering anger under control. Now wasn’t the time. ‘I would have been here for you all along, Amy, if you’d given me the chance, but you always did like to go it alone.’

  She looked down at her hands. ‘Not really. I just didn’t know how to deal with it—after the night of Ben and Daisy’s wedding it all seemed so complicated.’

  Oh, yes. He was with her on that. ‘I wish I’d known. I would never have left you alone to cope, and you shouldn’t have allowed me to.’

  ‘You didn’t leave me alone to cope, I sent you away.’

  He gave a wry laugh. ‘Yeah, you’re good at that, aren’t you?’

  She frowned at him, puzzled. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘When you were ill—out of it, really, and you thought it was Samuel, not Josh—you told me to go away then.’

  She bit her lip; her memories of that time were so patchy and veiled in layers of what seemed like fog, but through it all she knew he’d been there, and she wasn’t sure she could have coped without him.

  ‘I didn’t mean it. I was so confused. I’m glad you didn’t, I didn’t really want you to go.’

  ‘Didn’t you? It sounded like it. You sounded desperate, Amy. And I’ve heard you saying it before, don’t forget, when things were about as bad as they could be. I left you alone then, too, and I shouldn’t have done.’

  She swallowed. ‘I didn’t mean it then, either. Not really, not in that way. I just couldn’t cope with your grief as well as mine, and the thought of a wedding so soon after we’d lost him—I just couldn’t handle it. How could we have a party then, Matt? It felt so wrong. And if we’d known each other well enough, if we’d really known each other, we could have dealt with it, but we didn’t, we retreated into our grief and took the easy way out.’

  ‘Easy?’

  She tried to smile. ‘No, not easy. Nothing about it was easy, but it was easier than talking to a stranger about something I couldn’t even bring myself to think about. And you were a stranger, relatively. We’d only worked in the same department for less than a year before I got pregnant, and we were hardly ever on the same shift or working together because I was on the midwifery-led unit and you were in the high risk unit. We hardly ever met up at work, and because we were working shifts we didn’t always see each other at night, either, so even when we were living together we were like ships in the night. It was no wonder we struggled to communicate when we were grieving.’

  It was true, he thought. They’d thought they’d known each other, they’d certainly wanted each other and talked about getting married, but they had been relative strangers, and yet they’d been expected to cope with the loss of their baby. No wonder it had all fallen apart for them. But now…

  ‘Can we start again?’ he said quietly, and she looked up at him, propping up the doorframe and looking rugged and kind and troubled, and she felt a flicker of apprehension.

  If she said yes, if she let him back into her life, she’d run the risk of losing him again.

  And if she didn’t, she realised, she’d lose him now.

  She took a deep breath.

  ‘We can try,’ she said carefully, and something flared in his eyes, something he quickly banked. ‘I’m sorry I didn’t tell you I was pregnant, but I was so afraid things would go wrong again.’

  ‘Yeah. Ben said you had no confidence in your pregnancy.’

  ‘Would you have done, in my shoes?’

  He smiled wryly. ‘Probably not. In my own shoes, had I known, had you told me, I like to think I’d have been rational about it.’

  ‘Are you saying I was irrational?’ she asked with an edge to her voice, and he sighed and crouched down beside her.

  ‘No, Amy, I’m not saying that at all. Your reaction was perfectly natural and understandable, but maybe if I’d been with you I could have helped to reassure you.’

  ‘And if it had happened again? If we’d lost Josh?’

  His eyes flicked to the baby, and a spasm of pain showed on his face.

  ‘No. I didn’t think so. We didn’t cope with this before, Matt, and there was nothing to suggest we’d cope with it any better a second time.’

  He nodded. ‘I’m sorry. I’m not very good at sharing my feelings.’

  She laughed at that, a sad little hiccup of laughter that twisted his heart, and he straightened up and moved away, giving them both space. This wasn’t going to be as easy as he’d imagined, he realised. No dropping seamlessly back into their old relationship, as if they’d just cut out the last five years and joined the ends together.

  ‘About the next few weeks,’ he said, getting back to practicalities because it was far easier than pursuing the other topic. ‘I don’t want to overcrowd you, and I don’t want you to feel abandoned, either. I have to go back to London on Monday for a couple of days, and then I’ll be back, and we can see how it goes. I’ll try and give you space, and help with Joshua, and if it all gets too much you can kick me out and I can go and see Ben and Daisy and Thomas, or I can go back to London for the night and give you room. We’ll play it by ear. Deal?’

  She searched his eyes, and found only sincerity and a genuine desire to make this work. The rest could wait.

>   ‘Deal,’ she said, and she smiled. ‘Can we have that tea now? I’m parched.’

  Ben and Daisy came round a little later, bearing plates of food and bottles of sparkling water.

  ‘Just because we ought to have something fizzy to wet the babies’ heads, and half of us can’t drink,’ Daisy explained, hugging Amy and bending over Josh and making besotted noises.

  ‘He’s so tiny! He’s like a mini-Thomas! Oh, I want a cuddle. Hurry up and wake up!’

  ‘No! He’s only just gone back to sleep!’ Amy said sternly. ‘You leave him alone this minute and come and tell me all about Thomas. I feel dreadful abandoning you just after you had him.’

  ‘Oh, Amy.’

  She hugged her, told Ben to open the fizzy water and Matt to find glasses, and Amy sat there and cuddled Thomas and wondered how much better it could get.

  Two days ago, she’d been in the depths of despair. Now, she was back home, her closest, dearest friends were with her, and she and Matt were going to see if they could make their relationship work.

  That still filled her with a certain amount of trepidation, but she knew half of the butterflies were excitement at the prospect, and she tried to forget about it, to put it on one side and concentrate on enjoying the moment.

  One day at a time, she told herself yet again, and took a glass of fizzy water from Ben and they toasted the babies. And as she lifted her glass, she met Matt’s eyes over the top of it and he winked at her, and she thought, It’s going to be all right. We can do this. We can.

  ‘That was my parents. They send their love.’

  Ben and Daisy had gone home with Thomas and she’d just settled Josh in his crib when Matt came back into the sitting room, slipping his phone into his pocket. She’d heard it ring, and she frowned at what he said. ‘They know you’re with me?’

  ‘Well, of course they do. Why wouldn’t they?’

  Why not, indeed? ‘Have you told them about the baby?’

  He gave a soft, disbelieving laugh. ‘Amy, I’ve just become a father. Of course I’ve told them. I told them days ago.’

  Well, of course he had. How stupid of her. They were a very close family, and Ben had just had a baby, too, which they would have been eagerly anticipating, and so they would all have been on the phone frequently. He was lucky to have them. So lucky…