by Amy Andrews
Rilla looked over her shoulder and grinned at him, rolling over to snuggle into his side, her head on his chest. She lay there for a few moments, resisting the urge to slide her hand down his torso, and it slowly dawned on her she didn’t feel sick.
Yes, the morning sickness had improved of late but it had still been there. But there was nothing. She felt…normal. She grinned. This was turning out to be a great Christmas. She raised herself up on her elbow. ‘I don’t feel sick,’ she said to Luca.
Luca frowned. ‘Really?’
‘Really.’ She smiled, tapping his chest with her fingers. ‘I feel…great. Do you think this means that it’s over? The morning sickness has gone?’
Luca had to admit she looked way better than she had any morning to date. Although no doubt the sated female look that still smouldered in her amber gaze and was stamped all over her face also contributed.
‘Well, you’re fourteen weeks. It’s highly possible. Don’t count your chickens, though,’ Luca warned, subconsciously reaching out a hand to stroke her shoulder. ‘It might not mean anything.’
He smiled to soften the warning. She was looking relaxed and sexy and he didn’t want to spoil any faint glimmer of hope she was harbouring. In fact, the desire to roll her on her back and repeat last night’s performance was growing more appealing by the second and he dropped his hand from her shoulder.
How the hell had they got here?
Continuing from last night would not be a wise move. He didn’t know how he felt this morning other than very confused. They’d shared something more than sex last night—something deeper. And it didn’t gel with his plans for them. They were both feeling good and it was Christmas. It would be easy to make more of it than it was, to be seduced back into old habits. Ones that had been disastrous the first time around.
He’d actually felt like they were establishing the foundations for a lasting relationship these past few weeks. One that could work for their unconventional situation. And he didn’t want sex to take over like it had last time, and blur the edges. Even if it was amazing and he wanted her again very badly.
‘Anyway,’ Luca said, vaulting into a sitting position and displacing her, ‘I’m going to hit the shower and go into work for a while. We don’t all have a day off.’
Rilla admired the breadth of his naked back, wishing he were totally nude so she could admire all of him. How would he react if she got into the shower with him? The way he was avoiding her gaze told her he was wary and unsure about last night and she’d be wise not to push.
She watched him walk away, a mix of emotions running through her. She loved him. In the dark last night it had been easy to hide from, easy to pass off as sexual attraction, but in the full light of day it was obvious. She loved him. In fact, she’d never stopped.
She’d been lying to herself for seven years about being over him. Kidded herself that the chance to reconcile had been just for the baby when in reality, deep down, she’d been hoping he would grow to love her again.
But not in the way he had loved her before. Her love for him was so much more complex now. It had grown, evolved into something bigger and better than what they’d had eight years ago. Back then everything had been rosy and bright, and loving him had been easy. Now everything had changed. The stakes were much higher and loving him hurt. Losing him then had been devastating, losing him now would be…unimaginable.
Rilla wished she knew what he was thinking. Last night had been more than just sex for him too, she was sure of it. But he wasn’t confessing his undying love for her this morning either. What if it was only ever a chemistry thing for him? What if she had to accept that what they’d had was truly dead for Luca and it was never going to come back?
Could she? Their relationship was so much better than it had been all those years ago. Fuller, rounder, more complete. Surely she could live happily and be stimulated for years, sharing her life and their baby’s life with Luca like this. But would it kill her little by little not to have her love reciprocated? To have him stare at her with lust but never love?
Would that eventually break her or could she go on for the sake of the baby and their family and learn to live with whatever crumbs he threw her way? Learn that being desired was better than nothing at all?
Rilla sighed, her heavy thoughts temporarily sidelined by a need to go to the bathroom. She moved to obey her body’s dictates reluctantly. Somehow she felt that if she lay here in this spot for ever, their glorious Christmas tree towering above her, the angel watching over her, the memory of their love-making fresh, then anything was possible between them.
In the cool brightness of the white-tiled bathroom, she knew she’d been right. She should have stayed put. Not moved. Held on to the first glow of rekindled love, that precious moment of peace and goodwill, for as long as she could. She stared at her briefs in disbelief. She was spotting.
Rilla’s brain refused to function for a minute. All she could do was stare at the bright spots of blood.
No. Please, no. Not again. Not my baby. I can’t live through this again.
Rilla felt as if her throat was closing up as tears clogged her nose and eyes. She felt as if someone had taken a huge carving knife and pierced her through the heart. She clutched at her stomach.
No. Not my baby. Don’t take my baby again. This couldn’t be happening again. Not the morning after they’d made love. Not at all!
She couldn’t do this again. She thought about all the tragic women she had nursed throughout the years, coming into the department on their fourth and fifth and sixth miscarriages, and she just didn’t know how they went on. This would kill her. And if it didn’t, it should. How could she go on living after such a loss?
‘You OK in there?’
Rilla startled, swiping at her tear-stained face. ‘Y-yes. I’ll be out in a moment.’
Luca. Oh, God, how was Luca going to take it? She couldn’t live through that look on his face again. Through him withdrawing from her when he’d been so open. It would destroy her this time. Her love for him was tenfold and his rejection would annihilate her completely.
She remembered how he had tried to hold back last night and his gentleness when he hadn’t been able to, concerned about the baby. How climbing a ladder or lifting anything heavier than a paperclip raised his ire. How he insisted she put her feet up after work. How he soothed her every morning crooning sweet Italian nothings about their baby and how it was all going to be worthwhile.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. Think, think, think. But she couldn’t, everything was frozen. Her breath, her pulse, her brain function.
Luca kept up a steady stream of conversation before he left for work and how she managed to act normally, like her whole world wasn’t falling apart, she had no idea. She needed time to think and was pleased when he left.
She paced for half an hour around the house, tears streaming down her face, her brain alternating between assurances that it was nothing and complete shutdown as the worst-case scenario kept rearing its ugly head.
She should call someone, but who? Think, damn it, think!
The truth was, the only person she wanted was Luca. No one else knew more intimately than him what she was going through right now, and she wanted nothing other than to be folded in his arms and have him tell her it was going to be OK.
But what if he had that look in his eyes like last time? She had gone to him first too, seven years ago, in the mistaken belief he would be there for her. That they would be there for each other. And that had been a disaster.
No! They’d come so far since those early days. Their relationship was much stronger, built on more than sex and a whirlwind fairy-tale. It had a more solid foundation. They were so much better equipped today to deal with something like this. Weren’t they?
But what if they weren’t? What if Luca was truly only interested in her because she was carrying his child? What if he never was going to grow to love her again? What if she lost the baby and he walked away again too?
Just because their love-making last night had seemed exactly that—love-making—it didn’t mean he was in love with her or that he felt anything at all for her other than insane desire and propriety because she was the mother of his child.
She sat on the lounge and buried her face in her hands, hot tears trekking down her face as she rocked back and forth. She was so scared. Terrified of losing another baby and frightened of losing Luca, like last time. Her heart told her to go to him, seek him out, but she was confused. If she was losing this baby, she couldn’t put her heart on the line as well.
Hailey. She could ring Hailey. She was a midwife. Rilla rose, lifted the phone off the hook and dialled her sister’s number with shaky hands.
‘Hello, Hailey speaking.’
‘Hailey.’ Rilla tried to keep the wobble out of her voice—unsuccessfully. Hailey’s chirpy greeting had put her on shaky ground.
‘Ril? What’s wrong?’
Rilla took some deep breaths. ‘I’m bleeding.’ There was a pause during which Rilla gripped the phone hard and concentrated on her breathing. ‘Hails?’
‘OK. Right. Don’t panic. What do you mean, bleeding? Full-on flow with clots or just spotting?’
Rilla sniffled and wiped her nose on a tissue. ‘Spotting.’
‘OK, well, that’s good. Spotting isn’t unusual at this stage. It can be hormonal or from the cervix softening. Have you got any cramping?’
Rilla remembered the cramping from last time. The feeling that her insides were being put through a blender. ‘No,’ she sniffled, feeling the first ray of optimism shine through the bleakness inside her.
‘That’s good. That’s really good, Ril.’
Rilla felt fresh tears well at her sister’s overly bright response. Hails had witnessed the devastation of the first miscarriage and Rilla knew she was trying really hard to allay her fears and she clung to Hailey’s positivity.
‘How about your morning sickness? How’s that going?’
Rilla felt the slender thread Hailey had handed her snap and the bleakness envelop her. ‘It’s gone! This morning I woke up and I haven’t thrown up at all. Haven’t even felt like it! I was so relieved.’
Rilla wiped away a fresh batch of tears, castigating her foolishness. She should have known it was something sinister—not a cause to celebrate. ‘This is bad, isn’t it? My hormone levels have plummeted because I’m…’ She choked on the words. ‘The baby’s dead.’
‘No, Ril. No. Not necessarily. What does Luca think?’
Rilla felt another hot wave of tears course down her cheeks. How could she explain to her younger sister the complexities of their screwed-up relationship? Everyone thought they were happily reconciled. ‘I haven’t told him. I can’t.’
A harebrained scheme formed in her brain. ‘Can you meet me at the General?’
‘Of course.’
‘You can draw some blood and we can get the old portable ultrasound out.’
‘I don’t know, Ril. I think you need to talk to Luca about this.’
Rilla felt a block of emotion rise in her throat, constricting her breathing. ‘I have to know if there’s a heartbeat or not, Hailey. You don’t understand…Last time…last time was awful. I don’t know if we can survive another…Please, I just have to know.’
‘Ril…’
She heard the doubt in her sister’s voice but she couldn’t talk to Luca about this. Not before she knew herself. ‘Please, Hails. Please.’
‘OK, give me half an hour.’
Rilla swallowed the lump in her throat and thanked the universe for sisters. ‘Perfect.’
She threw some clothes on, pulled her hair back in a quick ponytail, snatched her keys up and was out of the house in under five minutes.
Carols played on the radio on the way to the General and Rilla didn’t even notice. She was frozen inside. She clutched her stomach as she drove and begged the universe for everything to be OK. There was still no cramping and the bleeding was only scanty, but she was bargaining for all she was worth. And the only bargaining chip she had was her love for Luca.
Please let the baby be OK and I’ll live with him in name only and never ask for anything more. Please, let the baby be OK and I’ll never lust after him again. Please, let the baby be OK and I won’t ask for Luca to love me.
The words ran like a mantra through her head and nothing else existed.
She screeched into the hospital car park a few minutes later and Rilla despaired at how far away she had to park. Every step jolted her and she fretted about the impact on a baby that might already be preparing to leave the womb.
Rilla lurked around the entrance and was pleased to see Hailey walking towards her ten minutes later.
‘Ril?’ Hailey said, embracing her sister. ‘How are you now?’
Rilla hugged back, squeezing Hailey tight. ‘Terrible.’ She swallowed. ‘I’m sorry to drag you out like this so early on your day off.’
‘Oh, babe,’ Hailey said. ‘I bet it’s nothing. Let’s think positively, OK?’
Rilla nodded, the lump in her throat too big to speak, clinging to Hailey’s optimism like a life jacket in stormy seas.
They entered the department, Rilla checking the coast was clear before shutting them in the empty triage room behind the desk, where patients were assessed privately.
She handed Hailey a tourniquet. ‘Draw some blood. Let’s get a beta HCG level off first.’
Hailey had just plunged the needle into the crook of Rilla’s arm when the door opened abruptly and the sisters startled at the unexpected intrusion. Luca stood in the doorway, his mouth open in mid-sentence. Rilla froze. She wanted simultaneously to screech at him to go away and run crying into his arms.
Luca’s thoughts churned madly as he shut the door. Rilla’s eyes were red and puffy, her olive complexion blotchy. Something was wrong. The beginnings of dread and anger burnt in his gut. Why was she here with her sister? Why hadn’t she come to him? ‘What the hell’s going on here?’
Hailey looked from one to the other. She withdrew the needle from Rilla’s vein and plunged it into the vacu-tainer, watching as the blood was sucked out of the syringe. ‘I’m going to leave you two to chat,’ she said, gathering the blood tube and a lab specimen bag. ‘Unless you want me to stay?’
‘No. Thanks, Hails.’ She squeezed her sister’s hand reassuringly. ‘It’ll be fine.’ Even though Luca looked really angry and she didn’t think it was going to be fine at all. ‘Can you mark it urgent?’
Luca was silent as Hailey left. ‘What’s happened?’ He braced himself to be told she was having another miscarriage. That they were losing this baby too.
‘I started spotting this morning.’
Luca’s breath left his chest in an explosive hiss. A crippling sense of déjà vu swamped him as he fumbled for a chair and sat, his head in his hands. ‘I knew it. I knew I shouldn’t have succumbed last night.’
Rilla put her hand out to comfort him. He sounded so disgusted with himself. It wasn’t his fault and she couldn’t bear to hear him blame himself. It was like last time all over again. ‘Luca, don’t…’
He stood, shrugging her hand off his shoulder, cursing himself. He didn’t deserve her understanding. He thumped his closed fist against the bench. ‘Damn it.’
Rilla braced herself. He paced and she watched him and waited for the post-mortem to commence. She felt so lonely and utterly miserable and remembered as if it were yesterday how isolated she’d felt as Luca had withdrawn from her a little more each day.
But this was worse because she’d allowed that part of herself that had been paralysed by him leaving seven years ago to come to life again. Waiting for him to sever the cord was agony and she felt cold all over.
Luca could feel a familiar sense of powerlessness creep over him and he pushed it away ruthlessly. They were not going to repeat the mistakes of seven years ago. His medical brain took over. Spotting did not have to mean anything.
He turned to face Rilla. She looked wretc
hed and his heart swelled for her. ‘Don’t,’ he said, walking towards her. He lifted a hand and stroked a finger down the side of her face, lingering at the freckle adorning the corner of her mouth. ‘It’ll be OK,’ he crooned, and pulled her into an embrace.
Rilla hadn’t known what he’d do or say but this certainly hadn’t been on her list of possibilities. He wasn’t pushing her away. It felt so heavenly to be safe in the circle of his arms and so unexpected that she burst into tears. She wanted to tell him she loved him but she was crying too hard to say anything.
‘We’re not going to jump to conclusions,’ he murmured, stroking her back as she cried. ‘It’s probably nothing.’
Rilla clung to him. She wanted to believe him. She really did. Where had this Luca been seven years ago?
‘We’re going to go to my office and get out the old portable ultrasound machine and have a look. OK?’
Rilla nodded. His voice was low and comforting, his body swaying gently back and forth with hers. Her love for him was a tight painful knot in her chest. Please, let Luca be right. Please, let our baby be OK.
Luca led her to his office and urged her to sit on the lounge. ‘I’ll be back. I’ll grab the machine and see if the lab results are back yet, OK?’
Rilla nodded, trying not to think that within minutes she’d know the fate of their baby. She remembered the bargain she’d made in the car and repeated her promise to give up Luca’s love in exchange for the baby’s life. It would be hard but the alternative didn’t bear thinking about.
A few minutes later Luca wheeled in a metal trolley housing a machine not much bigger than a video recorder with a screen only about ten centimetres square. It was too old and basic for any in-depth sonography but was a very quick, handy diagnostic tool for foetal heartbeats.
‘What did the lab say?’ Rilla asked, blowing her nose.
‘They’re in the process of doing it. I gave the lab tech my extension number to ring the results through.’
Luca placed the trolley beside the couch and squatted beside her. He gave her hand a squeeze. ‘Lie back,’ he said huskily.
