Her mascara was no doubt streaming down her face now, mixed together with snot and tears—she’d probably scare people if she went out, but the prospect of Nik grilling her about her behaviour didn’t fill her with joy either.
‘What about your work?’ she asked as he unlocked the door and ushered them into the building.
‘I called and told them I wasn’t coming in,’ he said, opening and then kicking their front door shut behind them. ‘You’re more important. We’re more important. At least to me.’
Although she heard the dig, she didn’t say anything as they headed for the couch.
‘Do you want me to get you a drink?’ he asked.
Josie thought about the bottle of wine, half drunk and waiting for her on the kitchen bench. Oh yeah, she wanted a drink.
‘Coffee, tea, a Milo?’ he prompted.
She shook her head. ‘I’m fine, but you get something if you want.’
In reply, he lowered himself down onto the couch beside her. ‘How long have you been smoking and drinking, Jose?’
She blinked. He’d found her in a compromising position with a fag, but she’d been careful not to drink too much when Nik was around.
‘I’m not an idiot,’ he said as if again reading her mind. It was a really annoying skill. There wasn’t supposed to be such thing as men’s intuition! ‘You act differently when you’ve been drinking—you’re more relaxed. Yet, when it’s too early for a drink or something, you’re all highly strung. But alcohol and cigarettes never made anything better and they’re addictive. What happens when we get pregnant again?’
‘That’s all you care about, isn’t it? I’m just a baby-making machine to you.’ Her voice rose as her fury grew within. ‘And a failed one at that.’
Nik visibly recoiled at her words. ‘What? No. I care about you but I thought that’s what you wanted. Isn’t a baby what this self-destructive behaviour is all about? You’re hurting and self-medicating and—’
‘No,’ she interrupted, her hands clenching into fists at her sides. He really had no clue, did he? ‘Not just any old baby. It’s about our babies, the three we lost. I think about them all the time, but you never want to talk about them. They’re real to me, I grieve their loss daily, but you act like the doctors, you act like they were nothing but a few cells. It feels like all you want to do is try and make another one.’
His face crumbled at her words. ‘Because I hate seeing you so sad. I’m trying to be strong for you, but you’re not the only one hurting. My heart breaks every time I think about it—I loved those babies from the moment you told me you were pregnant—but you know what hurts more?’ It was a rhetorical question and he barely paused for breath. ‘What losing them has done, is doing, to us. We used to be so close, we talked about everything, and now most of the time I feel like I’m living with a stranger.’
His words took her breath away. ‘So why didn’t you tell me?’
‘Because …’ His voice broke. ‘You’re my wife. I’m supposed to be strong for you. I’m supposed to look out for you, to make things better. I feel so fucking helpless. All my life I’ve been able to fix things. But the one thing I want to fix more than anything—the one person I want to help—I can’t. And it kills me.’
By the time he’d finished, Nik’s head was in his hands and he was crying. She blinked.
Her Nik crying.
He’d never … She couldn’t.
Her throat closed over and her eyes stung. Hold him. He needs you.
But no matter the voice in her head, her arms felt like lead. She sat there imitating a statue, but then after a few long moments, something flickered inside her, a spark lit by all the times he’d held her on this very couch. She’d cried bucket loads—dams could probably have been filled multiple times over with her tears—yet he’d been bottling all this inside, trying to be strong for her and she’d mistaken his strength for coldness.
Slowly, she lifted her arms and, for what she realised was the first time since her second miscarriage, she shifted closer and wrapped her arms around him. She held him tightly, hoping to give him comfort but also finding her own in the warmth and closeness of his body. Turned out it didn’t matter who was holding up who because together they were stronger.
When Nik’s tears finally began to wane, she looked into his eyes. For the first time she didn’t see her failure, didn’t see his frustration when their gazes met, and she questioned whether it had been in her imagination all along. Was what she’d seen actually his own despair, his wretched feelings of helplessness and heartache? They’d been trying to protect each other and in doing so they’d chiselled a giant chasm between them.
‘I’m sorry,’ she whispered. ‘I feel like a failure too. I hate that my body won’t do what it’s supposed to do. It’s not that I don’t want you anymore, but I’m scared. What if I do get pregnant again? And what if it ends too soon again? I can’t help wondering whether you’ll eventually regret choosing me over Danica who obviously has a body that works.’
He scowled. ‘What’s Danica got to do with this?’
‘Don’t tell me you haven’t heard about her having twins?’
‘I didn’t even know she was pregnant. Mum and my sisters don’t talk to me about her.’
Josie lifted one eyebrow. ‘It was all over Facebook.’ How could she have seen it and he not?
‘We’re not friends on there anymore.’ Slowly recognition dawned in his eyes. ‘Is that why you closed your account?’
‘Got it in one. Well, that and the fact that when you want anything badly, social media is a horrible place. Due to weird cyber algorithms or something I know nothing about, whatever you want is suddenly all you see.’
Nik snatched up her hands and clutched them to his chest. ‘I chose you back then and I would choose you again and again. No one gets me the way you do and I hoped you could say the same about me. If we can’t have a baby, I’ll be sad, but it’s you I want more than anything in the world. Do you understand?’
Damn stupid tears threatened again at his words. She wanted him to be enough too but she couldn’t help wanting a family. She wanted a little girl with Nik’s eyes who was aeroplane-mad and a little boy with her chocolate-brown curls who watched too many movies. Hell, at this stage she’d settle for one or the other. She just wanted a little person that was the product of their love.
‘I love you,’ she said, her heart melting at the intensity of her feelings for him. ‘And I’m sorry I’ve distanced myself recently. I’ve just never felt such sadness before.’
‘I know and I love you, and I’m sad too,’ he replied. ‘I’ve hated seeing you suffer through the miscarriages. I know it’s taken its toll on your body as well as emotionally on the both of us and it’s frustrating that the doctors can’t find anything wrong, but never forget, we’re in this together.’
‘But how many times do we have to go through it? It feels so unfair. Being pregnant is supposed to be a happy time but even that thought now is something I dread because I know there’s no guarantee of a baby at the end of it.’
He took a long moment to reply, then, ‘You know, there are other options. We could always consider adoption. I understand there’s only so much physically you can take—and I don’t want to have to watch you go through this even one more time.’
Every bone in her body stilled. She tore her hand from his. She’d contemplated IVF, she’d contemplated admitting defeat and never becoming a mum, hell, at her lowest, she’d even contemplated stealing someone else’s baby—not that she’d dare tell Nik that—but not once had the possibility of adoption entered her head.
‘How could you even suggest that?’
He blinked—hurt flashed across his face. ‘I thought you’d be open to the idea—you’ve always said you were okay about …’ He shook his head. ‘Forget I suggested it. I’m sorry.’
At the expression on his face, Josie’s temper cooled. It was a reasonable suggestion.
‘No, I’m sorry I sn
apped. Adoption isn’t an easy option anyway—I’ve heard it can take years to get approved and then even longer to actually get a baby. Besides, I want a little person that’s part of you and me. Is that too much to ask?’
‘No, not at all.’ Nik smiled wistfully and pulled her against him. ‘I want that as well. We’ll get there. Don’t lose hope.’
‘I’ll try not to. Thank you for coming home tonight.’
‘I’m glad I did. Never forget that I’m here for you, but,’ he paused and took a breath as if nervous about what he was about to say, ‘maybe you should get some professional help.’
‘I’m not going to AA. I promise you, I can give up and—’
‘I was thinking more along the lines of grief counselling,’ he interrupted. ‘Talking to someone about our losses.’
At his words, her mind flashed back to that night at The Inferno; she remembered the man who’d given her a cigarette had also given her something else. She’d been wearing this gold jacket that night as well. She slipped her hand into the pocket and her heart did a little jolt as her fingers closed around the lone card. Josie drew it out and held it out to Nik.
His eyebrows moved closer together as they always did when he was focusing on something. ‘Life After Loss? Clara Jones?’ he read out loud as he took it from her grasp. ‘You’ve already been seeing this woman?’
‘No. I just remembered someone gave me this card.’
‘Who?’
‘You know that night you were in Japan about to go out with your mates and I said I was also going out?’
He nodded.
‘That was a lie. I didn’t want you to worry about me. But you asked me to send you a selfie and so I had to get all dressed up and then I decided that maybe a night out would do me good. So I walked down to the beach and I went to that new place, The Inferno.’
‘On your own?’
‘Yep. I just wanted to drink and dance and try to forget my pain.’
‘Oh, Jose.’ Again his voice was soaked with sadness and worry. ‘What if something happened to you?’
‘I was fine. I’m a big girl and can look after myself. Anyway, I got talking to this man, a much older man,’ she added quickly, so she didn’t give him anything else to worry about, ‘and told him why I was upset. He said his wife volunteers for a charity that helps women like me, people like us, and he gave me this card.’
‘Well, as much as I don’t like the idea of you hanging out with other blokes at pubs, maybe you should give her a call.’
‘Yes. I think I will.’ She took the card from Nik and put it down on the coffee table in front of them. Then she turned back and climbed into his lap.
He blinked his surprise as she yanked his shirt open at the top two buttons and slid her hands inside, palming them against his hot skin. And Jesus, he felt good. It suddenly seemed absurd that she’d been trying to avoid this. Like dancing, this could wipe her mind of everything else.
‘And next time … you want to go out and dance …’ His voice sounded choked as she stroked her hands over him. ‘Promise you’ll take me with you?’
‘Promise,’ she whispered, and then pressed her lips against his.
Neither of them said anything else for a very long time.
Clara
Clara sighed as she watched her brother-in-law, Neil, put the last of her boxes into his van. She felt Siobhan’s hand gently touch her arm.
‘Are you okay?’
‘Yes, actually, better than okay.’ And it was the truth. She’d worked every available hour over the last couple of weeks, carefully packaging and boxing things. It had been a cathartic experience. As she’d suspected, Siobhan had all but forbidden her from giving the stuff to an op shop, convincing Clara to let her sell it to people who would truly appreciate it.
‘And then you can give whatever money I get to whatever charity you want,’ she’d promised.
Clara had agreed due to the sheer volume of stuff, which she suspected might overwhelm any charity shop if she dumped it on them all at once. And, since Siobhan’s youngest had finished school last year, her sister had been feeling at a loose end; she was over the moon to have a project to stick her teeth into.
‘Right then.’ Neil dusted his hands on his shirt. ‘I’ll be off. See you at home, love.’
He and Siobhan had driven over in separate vehicles and both were now at maximum capacity.
She kissed him goodbye. ‘Drive safely.’
The sisters stood together as Neil climbed into the van, his forehead red and shiny from all the box carrying.
‘Do you have to work today?’ Siobhan asked Clara as he started to drive away.
‘Not at the hospital.’ She glanced at her watch—it was not quite midday. ‘I’m on roster at Life After Loss this afternoon, but don’t have to be there for a few hours.’
‘In that case, do you have time for a celebratory drink?’
‘At this time of the day?’
Siobhan grinned. ‘It’s always 5 pm somewhere in the world, but I suppose I could make do with a cup of tea.’
Clara chuckled. ‘I’m not sure I have anything stronger anyway. Come on.’
They linked arms and turned back to the house.
‘When’s the real estate agent coming?’
‘Not for a few days. I wanted to have time to clean everything and make the place sparkle after the boxes left, before they took the photos.’
‘Good idea,’ Siobhan said as they headed into the kitchen.
Clara picked up the kettle and, as she went to fill it at the sink, Siobhan pointed to a couple of cardboard boxes perched on the kitchen bench. ‘Oh no, did we forget these?’
‘No. I can’t sell those.’
‘Why not? What are they?’ Siobhan lifted back the cardboard flaps on one and looked inside. She picked up a beer can and held it up like it was a dead rat. ‘Why on earth have you got all these?’
‘They’re Rob’s. He collected different cans. I’m not sure whether to call him and see if he wants them still or just take them round to Brenda’s place.’
‘You’ll do neither!’ Siobhan dropped the can back in the box and then wrapped her arms around it, holding it almost protectively against her chest.
‘You want the beer cans?’ Clara asked, even though she knew that wasn’t what her sister meant.
‘Very funny. Everyone thinks they’re a comedian. For one thing, you no longer have his phone number, remember?’
Clara refrained from reminding her sister that she still had the landline of the house where Rob lived with his mother.
‘Personally, I think you should chuck them.’
Perhaps Siobhan was right—if Rob really valued these items wouldn’t he have taken them with him in the first place?
‘But there’s also a box of old vinyl records that I found in the back of the garage and some of his band memorabilia.’ Clara gestured to another two boxes further along the bench. ‘I can’t just toss them.’
She might not have been the music fanatic her ex-husband once was but she knew how rare some of those records were. First albums of groups like INXS, Midnight Oil, The Police, Dragon and Cold Chisel. They’d been his idols but some had also almost become friends for a while. The LPs had been Rob’s prized possessions when she’d first met him—his passion, she’d go so far as to say his life—but the last ten years or so, he’d all but turned his back on music.
Siobhan sighed. ‘If I were you, I’d sell them and buy myself something nice with the profits but, sadly, you’re a much nicer person than me.’
Being ‘nice’ hadn’t got her very far in life but her sister was right—the guilt would eat Clara up if she didn’t give them back to their rightful owner. ‘Look, if I return these to Rob, then I’m done. That’s the last of his stuff in my life and once I sell the house, it’ll be like my marriage never even happened, so—’
‘So, I’ll take the boxes back,’ Siobhan said in her don’t-you-dare-argue-with-me tone.
Knowing her sister, the stuff would sit in Siobhan’s boot for a few weeks but at least she wouldn’t risk running into her ex by going there herself.
‘Thank you, that would be wonderful. And say hi to Brenda if you see her for me.’ Clara had always liked Rob’s mother and felt a little guilty that cutting him out of her life also meant losing contact with her, but the way Rob was, she didn’t see any alternative. It had taken her a long while to understand that with him it had to be all or nothing.
‘I will,’ Siobhan promised. ‘But now, enough about the past. I want to know if you’ve had any nibbles on the online dating website.’
Oh Lord, Clara would probably regret telling her sisters about that—at least she’d made them swear not to tell their mother. But, knowing Siobhan wouldn’t let it rest until she’d given her something, she said, ‘Come sit and I’ll fill you in.’
As she picked up the tea things and took them to the table, Siobhan carried over the plate of banana and caramel muffins she’d brought with her.
Clara reached for a muffin and took a bite. ‘Mmm. These are divine.’
‘Maybe you should only have half,’ Siobhan said, reaching across as if about to pluck the sugary delight from Clara’s fingers. ‘If you’re entering the dating scene again, you don’t want to get tubby because sooner or later you’ll need to get naked. It’s okay for me ’cos I’ve been married an eternity and on the rare occasions Neil and I have sex we hardly ever bother to take off our pyjamas, but you’ll want to put your best body forward.’
Clara yanked her hand out of her sister’s reach. ‘I’ll eat whatever and as much as I like, thank you very much. If I choose to eat well, it’ll be for my own health and well-being, not for some man.’ Although she shuddered a little at the thought of getting naked in front of another person again.
Deep breaths. There wasn’t any rush to jump into bed with anyone—she wanted companionship much more than she wanted sex.
Lost Without You Page 11
