Roger turned and grabbed the door handle. ‘Make a decision, sweetheart.’
As her eyes darted around the room, searching desperately for an answer, she glimpsed herself in the wall mirror. Confronted by the lifeless eyes and hunched shoulders of a beaten-down woman, she was the epitome of a prisoner in her own skin. The sense of hopeless inadequacy, of failure as a wife and as a mother that her husband had instilled in her, was back with a vengeance, bringing with it all the old self-doubt and insecurities. She wanted to be brave, to stand up to the man who’d made her life a misery, but how could she? She simply wasn’t strong enough.
‘Well?’ He yanked the door open.
She felt ambushed. Her intention to tell Jamie about Drew hadn’t eventuated; the time had never been right. If he heard it now from this man he hated what would his reaction be?
Roger strode out into the hallway. ‘Your choice.’
She had to act. Whether the words came from her or from Roger, unless she did something about it, the man she loved was about to learn a life-changing secret in the most brutal of ways.
A sob rose in her chest, followed by a frenzied cry of despair as she raced for the door. ‘Stop! Give me a minute, please!’
He ignored her and just kept walking. Galvanised into action, she flew after him, a headlong run to catch up with his long, impatient strides.
The scene unfolded as if she was in a movie, playing a part but with no control over the outcome. Alone behind reception, Jamie glanced up from his chair, his eyes seeking her out behind Roger’s fast-approaching frame.
‘What’s going on?’ he demanded, jumping to his feet, his face dark with concern.
‘Jamie, I’m so sorry—’
Her husband wasted no words. ‘My wife just informed me—’
She steeled herself as she pushed past her husband. This had to be convincing. ‘I’m sorry to do this, Jamie, but Roger and I are getting back together.’
Chapter 14
Gem’s tone was high-pitched and clipped and Jamie sifted through her words, trying to make sense of a message he really didn’t want to understand. She was going back to her husband?
The rock in his throat was jagged and painful. No way. It couldn’t be true. He wouldn’t let it. Not after last night.
‘What’s going on, Gem?’ he asked again quietly, scanning her face for the truth as he moved from behind the desk.
She wouldn’t meet his eyes.
‘I think that’s pretty obvious, Coltrane,’ the professor said with a condescending laugh.
He willed Gem to look at him but her gaze remained fixed on the white tiles of the floor. She was so remote, so untouchable, so ... far beyond his reach. How had it happened? And so quickly? ‘You told me you were no longer married to this jerk.’
Devane answered for her again. ‘I won’t bore you with legalities but we are still married and I’m pleased to say that my wife has agreed to rescind the divorce order.’
The suffocating pressure that convulsed Jamie’s chest had his lungs labouring for air. Someone—something—had reached into his chest, grabbed his heart and squeezed it so hard it might never beat again. Staring at Gem for confirmation, he roughed a hand over his chin, the stubble rasping like sandpaper against his palm. The seconds ticked by in silence as he attempted to control his emotions.
‘So it’s true?’ he finally managed. ‘You’re going back to him?’
She glanced up at him for the first time, her blue eyes burning into his, her chin tilted at a hard angle. ‘Yes.’
The response struck like a punch to the stomach. ‘I see.’
He stood there on legs threatening to give way any second, Adam’s apple doing overtime. His gut screamed denial; his mind refused to make space for the idea that this was the end for them.
The end.
After everything they’d talked about and promised each other. She’d seemed genuinely happy to be back in his life and back to her old self. How could she do this to him after the way she’d responded to their lovemaking, been so warm and loving and giving? She hadn’t admitted she loved him yet, but that would come, given a little more time. He just knew it.
A hope born of desperation grabbed hold. Devane was forcing her into this. Had some sort of pull over her. What had he said—done—to make her act like this?
‘Are you sure it’s what you want, Gem?’
Smirking, the professor draped an arm across her shoulders. ‘She’s sure, aren’t you, sweetheart?’
He pulled her possessively against him and kissed her forehead. Unbelievably, she nodded as her arm wrapped around his waist.
An excruciating stab of jealousy pierced Jamie’s gut at the sight of the other man’s hands on her. He wanted to prise those fingers off her body, to smash the maddening sneer from the guy’s face and tell him that Gem belonged to him. Rage curled his hands into fists; he wasn’t going to be able to take much more of this.
‘I think we should go, Roger. We’ve taken up enough of Jamie’s time.’ Gem moved out of her husband’s arms and tugged at his hand to make him follow her.
The truth of the situation was becoming harder to push aside or deny. A chilling realisation slapped him in the face.
Devane wasn’t forcing her to do this; it wasn’t pretence on her part. Last night and this morning had been the act.
But why? Had she just been toying with him for her own amusement? Or was it a twisted attempt to punish him for supposedly leaving her all those years ago? He had no way of knowing and no desire to find out. The reason didn’t matter.
He’d been played for a fool.
The sudden sense of desolation sliced apart his heart and grief flooded his chest almost to the point of choking. He swallowed the bile burning his throat, desperate not to give either of them the satisfaction of knowing how deep the hurt had cut.
‘No worries.’ His voice emerged stronger than he could have believed. Gem halted in her tracks, the look she turned on him unreadable. ‘Have a good day,’ he added, determined to show her betrayal was a non-event to him, wishing with all his heart that was the case. He only hoped his face gave nothing away.
Her face was flushed and achingly beautiful and he fought back a frantic need to grab her before she was lost to him forever, to kiss her one final time. But what was the point? She’d made her choice. He had to stop embarrassing himself over her.
Pulse pumping like a piston in his throat, hating himself for what he was about to do but needing to reinforce his indifference, he asked as casually as he could manage, ‘Before you go, did you want to rearrange the accommodation?’
Devane came to a halt. ‘Yes, we’d better get that settled. Go get your things, sweetheart.’ He patted her on the backside. ‘You’ll move into my room.’
For one vanishingly quick moment Jamie thought he saw something like shock pass over her features, but the look was so fleeting he had to have been mistaken.
Gem rested a palm on her husband’s chest. ‘Do you think we should, Roger? I mean, you’ve got work to do and I ... I don’t want to get in your way, so why don’t we keep our own rooms?’
The professor hesitated, but only briefly. ‘Mm, I do have a lot to take care of. And as you say, you’ll only be in the way.’ He turned, regarded Jamie with an assessing stare then nodded. ‘The arrangements can stay as they are.’ His smile was tight. ‘For the time being.’
‘I’ve got ... things to get sorted in my room. I’ll join you later.’ Gem pressed her husband’s arm and, without even a glance at Jamie, walked away.
His lungs laboured for air as the woman he’d truly believed was the love of his life disappeared down the corridor. Straight-armed, he smacked his two fists into the desktop. Contempt was too innocuous a word; it just didn’t cut it to describe the strength of his churning feelings.
‘Women,’ Devane snorted. ‘Forever changing their minds. Looks like you lucked out again, Coltrane.’
An electric surge of resentment accelerated through his
body. ‘I don’t know what you said or did to get Gem back, but you’re welcome to her.’ He punctuated the last four words with a finger in the professor’s face.
The professor lifted his chin aggressively upward. ‘I could advise you not to be such a sore loser. But then, that’s what you’ve always been, isn’t it? A loser.’
Of its own accord Jamie’s hand curved into a fist and drew back, readying for the follow-through. His mind was bent on one thing: violent physical contact to uncork the pent-up emotions straining for release inside.
The other man threw up a defensive forearm, the smirk gone.
‘Hey! None of that!’ Harry’s tone was harsh as he strode full-pelt down the corridor. He pushed his way between them. ‘What do you think you’re doing, son?’
The sudden reappearance of his father forced sanity to prevail. He lowered his arm.
Devane regarded him with a bitter smile. ‘Exactly. What are you doing, Coltrane?’
Jamie stood in stony silence for a moment, so damn angry with himself for letting the man get to him that he had to pull the tightest of leashes on his self-control to get to a stage where he could actually speak. ‘Settling a difference of opinion,’ he said, knowing Harry wouldn’t give up till he got an answer, trying to give away as little as possible.
His father’s expression was dubious. ‘I understand you two might have issues to iron out, but fighting never solved anything. I thought I taught you that.’
Jamie nodded, exerting hard-won restraint. ‘You did.’
‘So shake hands and discuss this like adults.’
‘No!’ Jamie and his nemesis shouted in unison, glaring at one another.
Harry pressed a hand to his abdomen, as if their belligerent response caused him a physical hurt, then shook his head in obvious disgust. The professor turned on his heels and strutted off towards his room.
‘Do you want to tell me what’s going on?’ Lines carved dark-shadowed crevices around Harry’s mouth, and his eyes looked bruised, but Jamie didn’t have time for a guilt trip at the moment.
‘It’s personal, Dad.’
‘But—’
‘Leave it, Harry.’ His voice emerged harder than he meant it to but all he wanted to do right now was escape and find a dark corner to hide in. He felt violated; needed to be alone with the unbearable pain of knowing he’d been played by the woman he thought had loved him.
Instinctively he headed for the mine. Once inside he tore off his t-shirt, grabbed a hard hat, and edged his way through the tunnels to where a massive pile of dirt still remained from the cave-in. He picked up a shovel and began scooping away the earth, hopeful that the quiet coolness, the solitude of this, his underground sanctuary, would help him regroup emotionally, and that the monotony of digging would take his mind off her.
He gave a short, mirthless laugh that immediately echoed back in the enclosed space. Did he really believe it’d be that easy?
It should be; what Gem had just put him through was unforgivable and he wanted nothing more than to forget all about her. But how could he when he’d spent the last seven years having to chase thoughts of her from his head every time he met a new woman? Thinking of no one but her; never quite managing to get her out of his system? Vivid memories of her warmth, her love of life, her intelligence and strong sense of family had stayed with him long past the time they should have. And the emptiness of being without her had never left him.
When they’d first been together, back in their university days, he’d found her adorably easy to read; she’d worn every feeling openly on her lovely face. The ice princess who’d arrived in her stead a few days ago had been a stranger to him, but with everything they’d gone through, and the resurrection of the old Gem, he’d believed he could still figure out what was going on in her head.
Hah! How ridiculous to even pretend to understand how a woman might think when, apart from those six months when Gem had shared his life, he hadn’t lived in close proximity with a woman since his mother had died, half his lifetime ago.
No, his days of reading Gem were long gone. Obviously. Witnessed well and truly by his moronic conviction that her feelings for him were genuine when it was just a ploy to get him to sell Gracie to her. She’d turned mighty quickly when it became clear dismantling the fossil was non-negotiable and a workable compromise impossible.
He plunged the shovel furiously in and out of the dirt, silently savouring the effect of working his body so hard that his lungs pushed against his chest, making him pant with exertion. This was what he needed, a physical release for the hurt that was once again turning to anger. Gem’s flagrant exploitation of his emotions exposed her for what she really was—a manipulative bitch—and he was making far more of what he’d considered the intimacy of last night than he should.
He stopped, every muscle tensing. Had he honestly thought he loved her?
What a joke when twice she’d proved he meant nothing to her. First, when she’d rushed into marrying the professor only months after their split, and again just now in announcing their reunion. Her tales of their unhappy marriage were clearly nothing but fabrications, no doubt designed to gain his sympathy. Sadly, he’d fallen for her lies. All of them.
Breathing heavily, exhausted to the point of collapse, he threw down the shovel and sank to the dirt floor. Squatting back on his heels, he tossed off his hard hat and furrowed the dirt-encrusted fingers of both hands through his hair, unable to curb the rush of humiliation and rage frothing inside.
It was time to face facts. Gem didn’t want him, never had, and he’d been an idiot to ever think otherwise. Any hopes he’d ever had of a future for them were finally and irrevocably laid to rest, and she could kiss any prospect of getting Gracie for her museum goodbye. Hopefully, she and her husband would be leaving as soon as possible and he could set about trying to piece back together the heart she’d broken into tiny, jagged pieces.
He sucked in a deep breath through clenched teeth. Gem was his past, a past he needed to move on from and get on with his life. And in his new life, self-preservation would be the name of the game.
* * *
Gem made it to her room before the deluge descended and her paper-thin mask collapsed like a piñata in the rain. She threw herself onto the tangle of sheets on the unmade bed where she’d made love with Jamie only hours earlier and wept until finally, with no tears left to cry, the keening turned to dry, racking sobs that shook her body uncontrollably.
Oh god, what have I done?
She buried her face in a pillow and breathed in the scent of their lovemaking and without warning the enormity of all that had just happened hit her like a physical blow. Panting in short sharp bursts, head reeling, she pushed back against the bedhead and, despite her best efforts, graphic images of what had transpired replayed in her mind: the shocked uncertainty of Jamie’s features when she’d told him she was reuniting with her husband and the torment in his eyes at Roger’s arrogant confirmation. Even as she’d been speaking the words she felt so ashamed of what she was doing. The shattered expression on Jamie’s face made her hate herself even more.
Pinning all the blame on Roger would have been so easy. He’d led her into a trap, left her no time to think things through, given her no choice but to do as he’d demanded. But if she’d only been able to find it in herself to trust in Jamie, to believe he’d understand why she hadn’t revealed to him the truth about Drew before now, she could have prevented what just happened.
Trust. Such a simple word for such a complex feeling. Jamie had worked hard to prove he deserved her trust again, but it wasn’t that straightforward. They’d spent less than a week together; enough time for her to realise how much he’d changed, how much he’d matured, but realistically they were only at the very beginning of finding their way to a new understanding of what they meant to each other. Learning that he was Drew’s father would either have sent him running for the hills or seen him stand by her, and she didn’t known this new Jamie well enough yet to
call his reaction. In any case, the ramifications from either response would be life-changing.
Not that it mattered now. Everything had changed.
Sorrow dragged at her shoulders and her eyes slid closed. Roger was back in her life with a vengeance, and the man she loved understandably wanted nothing to do with her. The heart-breaking indifference with which he’d dismissed her, waving her off and wishing her a good day, had proved that.
Recalling the scene pierced fresh holes in her heart and she could feel hot tears oozing like blood from a wound down her face. Fist pressed to her mouth, she stifled an anguished cry. It was over between them and she was broken inside, so broken she might never be fixed.
Jamie would never know what walking away from him had cost her.
Chapter 15
The digital clock on the counter in the waiting room at the Rainbow Cliffs community health centre clicked over to four o’clock. The place was now empty of patients and Gemma hovered just inside the doorway, mentally preparing herself for Lou’s response to her request.
The older woman lowered the blind on the single window facing the main street of town while studying her with frank interest. ‘I hope I can be of help, although I’m not sure how.’
Gemma wasn’t sure either. ‘I just need someone to talk to about all this.’ And maybe a shoulder to cry on.
‘Okay. Give me a few minutes to tidy up and I’ll be with you.’ Lou clicked the lock on the front door then her portly form disappeared into the only other room.
‘Thanks for being a friend,’ Gemma called after her.
Someone to call ‘friend’ was what she desperately needed right now. Most of the previous day had been spent in her room in a turmoil of heartbreak and uncertainty, bouts of hysterical crying interspersed with more lucid but still angst-driven efforts to work out a way to fix an unfixable situation. How was she ever going to persuade Jamie to speak to her again, let alone take the time to listen—really listen—to the confession he needed to hear, without hating her for withholding it from him for so long? No matter the consequences, she should have had the trust in him to tell him about Drew days ago when they’d been trapped together inside the mine. He had a right to know, and she wouldn’t be in this position if she’d owned up then.
Falling In Love Again Page 17
