Bound by the Unborn Baby

by Bella Bucannon

He hadn’t let go of Alina’s hand the whole time, needing the contact more than he needed air to breathe. His fingers caressed her knuckles. His free hand brushed strands of hair from her forehead. It tore him apart to see her so pale, so still, with a drip inserted in her wrist. He didn’t know what it was—didn’t care as long as it helped. Her breathing was steady; his was as erratic as leaves in a windstorm.

  ‘If you’d like a break I can sit with her while you go for coffee.’ A nurse laid a comforting hand on his shoulder.

  ‘No, I have to be here. I have to be with them.’ He wasn’t going anywhere.

  * * *

  Ethan wasn’t going anywhere. He’d even walked alongside the trolley, his hand wrapped around hers, but for the first time his warmth hadn’t been able dispel Alina’s icy chills. Everything had been a blur since he’d carried her from the en suite, his soft words unintelligible through the fog in her mind.

  Her barricades had crashed back up with the first stab of pain, sucking her into the dark void of bereavement and despair. Resisting the impulse to cling to him, she’d lain passive in his arms as he’d carried her to the bed and the car, desperately trying to close down her nightmare.

  During the ultrasound she kept her eyes closed, blanked out the technician’s voice and Ethan’s replies. Didn’t comprehend what he said to her, only realised by the squeeze of her fingers and his kiss on her forehead that the baby was okay. For now.

  Then something deep inside her shifted, shimmied through her, releasing a long-denied emotion. She gasped at the overwhelming surge of love for the tiny child fighting for survival inside her.

  ‘Alina, does it hurt?’

  The anguish in his voice focused her thoughts. She looked up, saw the furrows in his brow, the clench of his jaw, and stared into anguished eyes. Cobalt blue eyes in a captivating face that, without her realising, had become as dear to her as Colin’s. She loved him—loved him and the baby.

  No! To love was to risk everything. Mind-numbing. Terrifying. She’d fought her way back once. If she lost again she’d never recover.

  Scrunching her eyes shut, she forced her mind to think of the remote places she’d escaped to before. Anything but him, his eyes, his touch, the way he’d loved her last night. She forced herself back to the emotionless detachment that had kept her heart safe for seven years.

  * * *

  Two days later Ethan took her back to the holiday house.

  The next morning they returned to Sydney.

  * * *

  She’d done it again. Slipped away while he still slept. In the four weeks since her stay in hospital Alina had drifted into an abstract world Ethan wasn’t privy to. She lay apathetic in his arms at night, rarely initiated conversation and almost never smiled. He’d built an empire with persuasion and action—now nothing he said or did helped.

  He’d ensured she had time with Jean and with Dr Conlan, hoping she’d open up to one of them, or both. Giving her time and space, he hadn’t pressed her, had kept their daily life as normal as possible while letting her know he’d change his schedule any time she needed him. He’d encouraged her to use her computer, knew she didn’t, tried to be reassuring without crowding her.

  At night he cradled her and caressed her until she fell asleep in his arms. Every day he let her know how precious she was to him in words and actions. He was determined that she’d understand how much he cared for and wanted her, even though he made no attempt to make love to her. For her sake and their baby’s.

  More than anything he ached for what might have become a special part of his day: waking with Alina nestled against him, her hand over his heart, her breath soft on his chest. He longed to start each morning by kissing her awake, his heart soaring as she reacted sleepily, returning his ardour as her senses awoke.

  This morning he found her in the kitchen, making herbal tea. His pulse raced even as his heart twisted at the sight of her slumped posture. He lifted her chin, dipped his head, watching for a flicker in her sorrowful eyes. The same flicker that had raised his hopes time after time, only to dash them as it quickly died.

  He stepped away, ran agitated fingers through his hair. He’d been patient, willing to try anything to reach her, knowing she wasn’t to blame. Today he’d run out of ideas.

  ‘Alina, talk to me. We can work through this together, but I need to know how you feel, what you’re thinking.’

  She backed away, fuelling his frustration. ‘I don’t feel anything. Nothing.’

  ‘Try, darling. For me. For our baby.’

  She shook her head, squared her shoulders in defiance. Raised her voice. ‘I can’t. I can’t.’

  He bunched his fingers to prevent himself from hauling her close and kissing her hot and hard in an attempt to melt the ice that held her prisoner. Knew he was close to doing just that.

  ‘Forget breakfast. I need space to think.’ He strode to the door, grabbing his keys on the way.

  His stormy departure stunned Alina, leaving her breathless, mouth gaping, fingers curled tight. She sank to the floor, leaning against the cupboard. That was the same expression she’d seen once before, when he’d walked out of their first meeting, angry, shattered.

  Then she’d been unsure if she’d see him again. Now the same feeling washed over her, so much stronger. She felt desolated. Abandoned. Alone.

  Wrapping her arms around her swelling stomach, she hugged herself and rocked, chest tight and body trembling. Suddenly she stilled. She wasn’t alone. Her hands were cradling their baby. Their baby. Ethan was right: it was easy to say it once you believed.

  She also believed he’d never desert Louise’s child. It was his prime consideration.

  He’d given his word to take care of them both. Since her stay in hospital he’d been gentle, compassionate, treating her as if she were fragile. He cuddled her close at night, whispered comforting words she hardly heard, and never attempted to make love to her.

  Because he was protecting her and their baby? Because Dr Conlan had advised him not to?

  She’d driven him away—maybe lost him. One night of loving might be all she’d have to remember...a magical night that...

  He’d said it had been more than he’d dreamt, more than he’d fantasised. She closed her eyes and pictured his face when he kissed her, always with open eyes.

  Now she recognised the love that shone in that darkening blue. Every act, every caress had been for love. For her. For their baby.

  A wave of serenity washed over her. She went to the window, seeing only his smile, his quirky eyebrow rising. His cobalt blue eyes, so suspicious at first. So frustratingly angry when he’d left today because of her withdrawal, her stupidity in not sharing her fears and giving him the chance to help her.

  Could he ever forgive her?

  Please let him come home soon so she could tell him how much she loved him and their baby. She’d try to explain the mind-numbing grief, beg for his understanding and help. If he still wanted her she longed to stay, to be his wife and this baby’s mother. The three of them could become a real family...

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  TURNING LEFT AT ground level, Ethan walked aimlessly without stopping, crossing streets or turning corners depending on the traffic lights. His brain spun; his gut churned. He was the mediator, the one who found solutions. Why not for Alina? He’d broken her barriers down before—now he seemed to be the reason they’d been rebuilt.

  He sidestepped a toddler, squirming in his mother’s grip, quirked a smile at them both. Hopefully that was his future—an active, adventurous child with Louise and Leon’s DNA. Their love of life, their loyalty, their... His throat tightened. Would there be anything of Alina? How could there not be when she’d nourished and cocooned their baby for nine months?

  A red light. He swung left. Ahead lay Circular Quay and the Manly Ferry. />
  Alina’s eyes had sparkled that day; her smile had enthralled him. He’d loved her sweet response to his kiss. Loved her... Loved her.

  He stopped short, barely registering the stroller slamming into the back of his leg or the young father’s apology.

  ‘Not your fault, mate. I stopped.’

  And he’d stopped being an idiot. He moved over to the building, his body trembling as he acknowledged how much of one he’d been. That original tightening in his gut, his complete trust in her from the start and the primal urge to protect her... His desire to know her would have been as strong whenever, however he’d met her.

  Alina had captured his heart from the moment he’d stood in that doorway. He hadn’t realised it because he hadn’t believed he was capable of the feeling. For weeks he’d been following a nightly ritual in secret, not comprehending he’d truly meant it for both of them. If he’d let himself believe he might have prevented the rebuilding of her barricades.

  He began to run—back to the apartment, back to claim her for his own. Back to offer her his love and life.

  Opening and then closing the door silently, he moved forward, muscles tense, pulse racing. Heart praying.

  Alina stood by the window, staring out. It was an echo of their first meeting, only this time he rejoiced in the gloriously familiar gut-clench.

  * * *

  Alina stroked her stomach, whispered words of encouragement, letting their baby know everything was going to be all right.

  ‘Your daddy’s temper flares quickly...cools almost as fast. He’ll ponder the problem, think out a solution. Come home to take action.’

  The back of her neck tingled.

  ‘Alina?’

  She turned, her heart flipping at his voice. Cobalt blue eyes set in impassive features scanned hers with the deep intensity she knew so well. His muscles were taut, as if prepared to ward off a devastating blow. His lips twitched.

  Her mouth dried. Chills ran down her spine. She couldn’t move.

  He came towards her. His arms swung out, fingers spread. ‘I can’t go on like this.’

  She froze. He couldn’t mean it. He couldn’t leave her. Or send her away. Her legs felt like jelly and yet they refused to buckle.

  Her brain screamed. Tell him you want to stay. Tell him you love him.

  The words wouldn’t come.

  One more step brought him close enough to caress her baby bump. He didn’t.

  ‘Can you imagine what it’s like, waiting for you to fall asleep every night before I can tell you how much I love you?’

  Grated out as if in protest.

  Heat raced through her veins. Her legs crumpled. Ethan caught her, crushing her to his chest.

  ‘You do that?’

  He’d been saying he loved her. He did love her. Her arms wrapped around his neck, holding fast.

  ‘Every night for weeks. I believed I was incapable of loving the way Leon and Louise did, so I told myself it was for our baby. Persuaded myself the physical attraction was because you were so beautiful, so sweet and courageous.’

  His eyes sparkled. His hands soothed her. His brilliant smile was for her alone.

  ‘I love you, Alina James. Probably from the moment I saw you. Recognising it took my head longer than my heart. Stay with us. I swear—’

  ‘I love you, Ethan James. There’s nowhere else I want to be.’

  Ethan’s lips sought hers tenderly, lovingly, savouring the taste of her, becoming more fervent as she responded in kind. He heard a low groan of desire, wished it were hers. Knew it came from him.

  Breaking the kiss, he scooped her up, settling on the settee with her in his lap, her head on his shoulder, his hand splayed over her growing baby bump.

  ‘I’m sorry for not trusting you to help me, Ethan. I’ve been so scared of losing you, losing you both. So fearful of getting trapped in the darkness again, being alone with no way out this time. You saved me and I pushed you away.’

  ‘We’re together now, and nothing’s—’

  His heart lurched as she suddenly sat up, eyes vivid and wide, a delighted smile lighting up her face.

  ‘Our baby moved! Like a tiny ripple. Ethan, our baby’s letting us know we’re not alone.’

  He kissed her softly, reverently. ‘I promise you’ll never be alone again, my love.’

  * * *

  September thirtieth.

  Baby active.

  Kept Alina up most of the night.

  Ethan closed the diary and stretched. Alina was resting in the lounge, at his insistence, after rising early, claiming she couldn’t get comfortable in bed.

  He was just about to check if she wanted anything, tell her he’d work from home today, when she waddled in.

  Her concerned expression had him on his feet in an instant.

  ‘Do you need something, darling?’

  ‘I didn’t tell you earlier—thought it might be a false alarm.’

  His body hit full alert in a heartbeat. He crossed the room, clasped her arms and pinned her with a warning glare.

  ‘The contractions started before dawn. I’ve been timing them and—’

  ‘Don’t say it.’ If it was voiced out loud it might happen. ‘We’ve got three weeks to go. Must be a Braxton-Thick false alarm thing.’

  Please let it be.

  She gave him an indulgent smile. ‘Braxton-Hicks—and that’s why I waited until I was sure. I finished packing the bag, in case, then phoned Dr Conlan. She said she’ll meet us at the hospital and to drive carefully.’

  ‘No ambulance? No paramedics, trained in case the baby comes en route?’

  ‘We have plenty of time, Ethan. I promise. The hire car’s on its way.’

  He strode from the room. Came back frowning.

  ‘We need to...um...hell!’ His mind was a fuzzball.

  The hospital bag. He walked to the door, pivoted at the musical sound he normally loved to hear. His gorgeous wife was laughing at his indecision—a moment after telling him she was in premature labour.

  He did the only thing a man could do in the circumstances: pulled her close to stop her mirth with his mouth. A breathless eternity later he lifted his head. It was time to man up. Or daddy up. He knelt to kiss her stomach, then splayed both hands there.

  ‘Okay, bub, your timing’s out, but you’re in charge. Unless you want to reconsider and stay where you are, nice and cosy for another three or four weeks.’

  His response was a firm kick. With a wry grin he straightened up.

  ‘I guess we’re gonna have a baby, Mrs James. You keep timing the contractions. I’ll get the bag.’

  ‘You’ll have to call your mother on the way.’

  His features hardened. ‘Why the hell would I do that?’

  In five months he’d only occasionally seen them socially, phoned them when necessary. Refused to give them any chance of upsetting Alina.

  ‘Jean and I bumped into her at a baby shop last week. We talked for a few minutes, then arranged to have lunch today. I was going to tell you how it went tonight.’

  ‘My mother was in a baby shop?’ An unbelievable event. She ordered gifts online from exclusive stores.

  His features softened and he drew Alina as close as their baby allowed.

  ‘You agreed to meet her after the way they treated you? You are a very special lady, Alina James, and I’m a very lucky man.’

  * * *

  Dr Conlan was waiting for them. As Alina was wheeled away Ethan caught her arm.

  ‘It’s too soon. You said late October.’

  She patted his hand and smiled. ‘Babies don’t always follow our planning chart, Ethan. This one’s decided today’s its birthday, whether we’re ready or not.’

  He wasn’t. This was hi
s woman. Their baby. He desperately wanted to take her home, where he could keep them both safe until the due date.

  ‘Can’t you delay it? At least until our baby’s bigger?’

  ‘Too late for that. Looks like your child’s made an executive decision. Welcome to fatherhood, with all its unpredictability.’

  It was happening. Louise’s baby. Louise who’d hated being late for anything, who had always been early, eager to savour the first moment, the overture. His little miracle was about to be born.

  Adrenaline pumped through his veins. It was like that exultant moment in a business deal when he knew he was on the cusp of victory. Only a thousand times better.

  * * *

  It wasn’t the exclusive birthing suite he’d booked. Didn’t matter. They were in the safest place possible. Dr Conlan was there, there were paediatric specialists within call. He could see the special incubator, positioned discreetly by the wall.

  He rubbed Alina’s back and encouraged her to puff and blow. Wiped the sweat from her brow, kissed her and repeatedly told her how much he loved her. He wished he could take the pain for her, and didn’t flinch when her nails dug into his hand.

  ‘Okay, Daddy, let me take over here.’

  The nurse was there, nudging him aside. He growled. ‘No.’

  This was his place. His prerogative.

  ‘Go help deliver your baby.’

  Deliver? Him? He looked at Alina, who nodded.

  ‘Go.’

  Her reassuring smile filled his heart to bursting point.

  An urgent, ‘Come on, Ethan!’ had him scrambling to the doctor’s side.

  He obeyed instructions, his eyes totally focused on the thick thatch of damp dark hair emerging. A whoosh of movement and suddenly his arms were full of a squirming, slippery, wrinkled creature. He intuitively hugged the red-faced newborn to his pounding heart, fascinated by the petite button nose and bow lips.

  When a delightful squeak became a distinctive howl of objection he blinked away his tears of joy. They had a daughter. He was a fair dinkum father.

  ‘Hi, bub. We’ve been waiting for you.’

  To his amazement, as if soothed by his voice, her crying was tempered to a whimper and the cutest hiccup. He gazed into unfocused cobalt blue eyes, a reminder of Louise, then looked at Alina, who lay with her head back, face pale and eyes closed. And loved her even more.