by Sami Lee
A heartbeat of silence followed, the ticking of the mantelpiece clock the only sound. Then Mike said, “You seem to know a lot about this, seeing as you’re making this decision on today’s events alone.”
“Today wasn’t the first time I’ve considered it.”
“When?” Mike asked on a choked sound. Then his voice gathered power. “How long have you been considering this?”
“Since last week. I thought about the sacrifice you made for Bailey in not going to Melbourne, and the penny finally dropped. You should have been given custody from the start.”
“You’d thought of this before you and I made love?” he asked, daring her to admit it, wishing she would deny it.
She had the grace to blush. She lowered her head. “Yes.”
“So what was it all about then?” Mike roared. “I thought we were getting closer, but now I find out you were just pulling farther and farther away from me the whole time. Was it just sex?”
“No!” she denied hotly, her spine stiffening, so he should have had an inkling of the return fire on its way. “That’s your department, not mine.”
“No woman who came before you matters a damn to me now,” he told her acidly. “You are different, and I have never taken anything with you lightly. Least of all making love.”
To his growing exasperation, her expression was one of disbelief. She really had no idea, no clue how he truly felt about her.
And now he was too full of rage and hurt to tell her.
Instead he asked. “How could you do this? It’s supposed to be the two of us, helping each other with Bailey. We’re a team.”
“I have no choice but to do this. If things were how they were supposed to be, Jacinta would still be alive and none of this would ever have happened. You and I would still be … strangers. That’s the way things were meant to be. You and I should never have happened.”
Of everything she’d said, it was this which hurt the most. “Do you really mean that?”
He saw her throat work as she swallowed, saw her eyes skitter away. “Yes.”
Yes, Eve thought, It should never have happened because now I’ll have to live with the knowledge of what I’m missing.
She had to get out of here—now. She had expected Mike to be surprised, even that he would try and talk her out of her decision. What she hadn’t expected was his fury, the hurt, so raw and sharp-edged it felt like a lance in her own heart. It made her want to cry again, to fall in his arms and beg his forgiveness for not being the woman she needed to be, the woman she wished she was.
But she had to have some pride in herself. If she couldn’t be who Bailey needed, who Mike wanted, she could at least have the decency to admit it and the dignity to walk away with her head held high.
With deliberate care, as though she might trip and fall on her own miserable anguish, Eve walked to the door where she had left her suitcase and lifted it, gathering up her car keys. Schooling her features not to crumble, she turned to look at Mike. “I’ve put the car seat in Bailey’s room. There are no bills due until next week. Bailey has plenty of food…” her voice trailed off at the incredulous, almost hateful look on his face.
“Of course.” The words dripped sarcasm. “You would have thought of everything. No need for my input. And you’ve packed already, I see. How efficient of you.”
“Mike—”
“No, Eve, I’ve heard enough.” He cut her off brutally. “You’re not the only one who can plan for the future, and since you’ve left me no choice but to be the sole decision-maker for Bailey, I need to make sure he’s not confused by any half-hearted attempts you might make to be a part of his life. If you walk out now, I don’t want you to ever see Bailey again. I don’t want calls, I don’t want visits, I don’t want you coming anywhere near … him.”
He’d been about to say me, Eve felt sure, and knew he really hated her. The instinct to scream was almost overwhelming. Could she really do it? Could she walk out and never see either of them again?
Although she was leaving her heart, her soul on the kitchen table along with her house keys, Eve nodded, speech eluding her. It was best, she told herself firmly as she opened the door and stepped out of the house—her home. Mike’s antipathy didn’t change any of the logical reasons she had listed defining why this was the only choice she could make, the best choice she could make, for Bailey.
She was in her car, dazedly driving away, before she wondered if she had just made the best choice for her. Although she knew she had to put Bailey first, a small, sad voice inside her cried—
What about me?
Hour after painful hour stretched into day after lifeless day. A week passed, and Eve still ached, the wound of leaving Mike and Bailey as fresh and new as it had been the day she did it. She had passed through miserable days ago, now existing in a state somewhere beyond forlorn, somewhere around despondent.
She went to the office and tried to work, though she did the bare minimum and did a mediocre job at best—a first for her. She had always taken pride in the fact that work was an area in which she excelled. But she no longer cared about the quality of her work.
The office staff threw a going away party for Terri Howard. Terri, who was youthful and vibrant and in love, off on an adventure with the man of her dreams. Having just completed his teaching qualification, Terri’s boyfriend had been offered a position at a high school in country Queensland. He’d proposed to Terri, asking her to go with him. Eve couldn’t stomach even one piece of cake, let alone fake excitement over the girl’s diamond engagement ring. She left the party after five minutes to lock herself in her office and sob quietly into a handkerchief.
Home was a dismal place. A furnished apartment in the complex where she had lived for two years prior to Jacinta’s death and her subsequent move to Shorncliffe. She had never noticed before how utterly dreary and lacking in colour was the mostly beige decor, how tiny and utilitarian was the kitchenette, designed for singles for whom the most used appliance was the microwave. Each time she heated up another frozen meal for one, she thought of the cottage’s large, homey kitchen, where Mike had cooked delicious, five-star meals with the casualness a normal person might do a load of laundry—where they had argued and talked and laughed and almost kissed more than once and where he had helped her bake Bailey’s birthday cake.
In this apartment, she was alone.
She thought about Bailey every day at least five hundred times. She wondered if he wondered where she was, or if his attention had immediately turned to Mike, and Denise and Allen, her presence quickly forgotten. It was what she wanted, for Bailey to be with his family and never have to miss her, but the thought of it was so agonising, she would groan out loud whenever it came to her, and bite her lip to keep from crying again.
Yes, she was alone again. She was used to that. The new thing was being really aware of it. She wasn’t just alone now, she was truly, utterly lonely.
It was on Tuesday, a week and a day after she had left the only place that had ever started to feel like a real, loving, home, that the phone on her desk rang and she picked it up, only to almost drop it again at the familiar voice on the other end.
“Eve, it’s Denise,” she said, short and to the point. Then she said the words that had the bottom dropping out of Eve’s stomach. “Something’s wrong with Bailey. He’s in hospital. Mike thought it was just a flu, but now it seems more serious and they want to run some tests.”
Bailey. Oh my God, Bailey.
“Michael said I shouldn’t call you, but I didn’t think it was right. I know you two haven’t been talking, but—”
“Which hospital?”
Eve rushed to the hospital, not caring if she was booked for speeding. She parked the car haphazardly and sprinted on her unsuitable-for-running pumps into the emergency department, demanding of the nurse behind the reception desk, “Bailey Wilcox. I need to see Bailey Wilcox right away.”
“Would you spell that name for me?”
“Wi
lcox, W-I-L-C-O-X. He’s only one year old. They’re running some tests on him.”
“Are you a family member?”
She was about to say yes before she stopped herself, the gaping hole inside her widening. No, I’m not, she thought in despair, knowing that they wouldn’t let her see him if they knew. Knowing the hole inside would never be filled again as long as it was true.
A familiar voice behind her said, “Eve,” and she turned to see Denise standing there, her navy and white work uniform dishevelled, her hair coming out of its once neat French twist. Her face was etched with worry lines and Eve thought, My God, it is serious, and before she knew what she was doing she had flung herself into the other woman’s arms, so relieved was she to see a familiar face.
“Oh, God, Denise, what is it? Is Bailey going to be all right?”
“They don’t know yet,” Denise answered, holding Eve as she shook against her. “He’s been having flu-like symptoms and then Mike found a rash. He was concerned it might be meningitis.”
“Meningitis!” Eve pulled away and stared at the other woman in horror. She’d read about meningitis. It was an horrific disease, often fatal. Fatal. “Doesn’t he have shots for that?”
“The shots don’t vaccinate against all strains of it.” Denise took a shaky breath. “They said it could be nothing at all like that. That’s the worst case scenario. We’re waiting to find out more.”
Her use of the word we warned Eve about what was to come only a second before it did. Mike’s lethally quiet voice sounded from behind her. “What in hell are you doing here?”
Both women turned and saw him, his gaze resting accusingly on Eve. Although he was clearly unhappy to see her, the sight of him was like a balm applied to a painful wound. His jaw was shadowed with stubble and there were dark circles beneath this eyes. His shoulders were set, square and stiff, his mouth compressed into a grim line. He wore his ratty, faded jeans and an equally faded, once-black sweater.
Nothing had ever looked better to Eve.
“I called her,” Denise told him, while Eve was still stunned, relief mingling with agony at the sight of him. “I thought she had a right to know what was happening.”
“She gave up her rights,” Mike barked at his mother before turning his wrath back onto Eve. “We had a deal, remember? You weren’t supposed to come near either of us ever again.”
“Mike!” Denise exclaimed, shocked.
“You stay out of this, Mum. This is between Eve and me, and she knows damn well what I’m talking about.”
Somehow managing to find her voice, surprised to find it strong, she said. “I’m reneging.”
“What?”
“Bailey’s sick, and you haven’t got a hope in the world of getting rid of me. So for now, I’m reneging on that promise.”
His eyes narrowed on her, their green glinting hard, like cut emeralds. Before he could say anything further, a nurse came into the room and called, “Mr Wilcox?” and Mike immediately stalked toward her, everything but his concern over Bailey dismissed.
Yet when Eve made to follow him and the nurse down the hall, Mike turned and warned, his voice steely. “You stay here. I’ll find out what’s going on and let you know.”
Her momentary bravado slipping, Eve stayed where she was and watched him stalk away, his strides tight with barely controlled emotion. He had promised to tell her what was going on and she hung on to that thought for dear life. “My God. He’s so different. So angry.”
Denise said tautly, “Heartbreak will do that to a man.”
Bailey. She must be talking about Bailey. Mike was no doubt as sick with worry as she was, she realised as she followed Denise into the waiting area and took a seat beside her on one of the creaky plastic chairs.
After a few moments of heavy silence, Denise asked, “What kind of thing was that to do—make a deal never to see my son or my grandson again? Don’t you care one whit about either of them?”
“Of course I do!” Eve asserted, stunned by the other woman’s accusatory tone. “That’s why I had to do it. I don’t know how much Mike has told you—”
“Mike hasn’t told me anything, but he’s been walking around like a wounded soldier, so far inside himself he can barely see straight. I can read between the lines,” Denise said, her animosity cutting after the way she had let Eve cling to her only moments ago. “This might just be a mother talking, but for reasons I don’t understand, you don’t love my son.”
“That’s not true,” Eve said, the emotion of the moment negating any attempts she might have made to cover her true feelings. “I love Mike with all my heart.”
Finally saying the words, Eve felt emancipated, even while fear over Bailey and heartbreak that she would not share a future with Mike still gripped her with icy fingers. Letting out a slow breath she repeated, because she wanted to hear the words again. “I love him.” Turning to Denise she let the truth of it shine from her eyes. “If you think I don’t know how special your son is, you’re dead wrong.”
“Then why would you leave? I don’t understand it.”
Right now, Eve wasn’t sure she understood it herself. But she said, “I had to. Don’t you see? It was the best thing for Bailey. He should be with his family. Mike should have been given custody all along.”
Chapter 14
“I did wonder why Michael wasn’t named Bailey’s guardian,” Denise continued. “Although he was living overseas at the time, I knew he’d come back and do the right thing if he’d been asked. Apparently Derek wasn’t of the same opinion.”
“It’s a shame Derek didn’t know his brother better than that.”
Denise sent Eve a sharp look, then seemed to realise she meant nothing derogatory by the comment. Her posture relaxed, and her smile was ghostly, sad. “Yes, I suppose it is. Derek always seemed to be competing with Michael, and I think that’s what kept them from being close. I thought, when you were named guardian, Derek had spurned his brother. And us.”
Eve felt the burden of accountability clamp around her. “I’m sorry to have caused so much friction.”
“I admit I didn’t think you were the best candidate to care for Bailey—not at first. I thought he should have been with family.”
“I know. That’s why I did what I did. Bailey belongs with Mike.”
Eve felt Denise’s eyes assessing her profile. At length she said, “Perhaps you do as well.”
“Oh, I don’t think so,” Eve denied, thinking in anguish of Mike’s hard-set features when he had seen her. “And even if it were true it doesn’t change the fact that I’m not very good at being a mother. In time, Mike will find somebody else to fill the role.” Her words choked her.
“Not good at being a mother?” Denise looked genuinely shocked. “Considering you had a baby thrust on you at short notice, you had to move house and entirely change your life, I think you’ve done an amazing job. Most of us have nine months to get used to a baby’s arrival you know. I admire how you handled things.”
Eve stared at the other woman, unable even to blink. “You do?”
“Yes, Eve, I do. Not everyone would have taken on such a difficult task with the aplomb you did.”
“But … I’m not good at playing with him, being silly and making him laugh like Mike does. I don’t always understand what he wants, or know how to make him smile.”
“You love my grandson, it’s obvious to anyone who looks at the two of you together. That’s the best thing you can give a child—love. Why do you think I called you today, against Michael’s wishes? I knew you’d need to be here,” Denise said, her eyes misting. “You are his mother, Eve. The best one he could ask for, because you will be able to tell him all about Jacinta. The things no one else knows because nobody knew her like you did.”
Eve was unable to speak past the emotion wedged in her throat. She felt immense gratitude for what Denise had said, knowing she would never have had the faith in herself to believe it if she hadn’t heard it from Mike’s mother, of all
people. Denise had Bailey’s best interests at heart. She wouldn’t say such things if she didn’t believe them.
It occurred to Eve that if she and Mike’s mother had sat down and talked out these things properly weeks ago, it would have been an enormous weight off her shoulders. She could well have used Denise’s help and encouragement, if she had only let herself ask for it.
“Thank you,” she said, as tearful now as the other woman.
Denise pulled a small pack of tissues from her handbag, handing one to Eve and taking one for herself. “Has Mike never tried to reassure you of how you were doing with Bailey? If not, I’ll have to have a talk with that boy.”
Eve smiled ruefully at the description of Mike as a ‘boy’. Only his mother could ever see him that way, and not as the physically exciting, amazing man that he was. “He tried to tell me, I guess I just wouldn’t listen. It all got caught up in the…” she shifted in her seat, “other feelings. I thought he was just telling me what he thought I needed to hear.”
“Maybe. That doesn’t mean it wasn’t the truth.”
All those times Mike had reassured her, complimented her on how she handled Bailey, he had meant every word. And if he had meant every word of what he had said about that, perhaps he had meant every word he’d ever said to her.
That he cared about her.
That he thought about her all the time.
That they were a team. A family.
She had known all along that Mike had a core of integrity to him, that he wasn’t a liar. Why hadn’t she really listened to what he was telling her?
Because her mind had been so full of her inner voice—the one that was negative and harsh, the one that told her she was useless and unlovable, that she was no good for Bailey, that everyone, eventually, would leave her.
But Mike hadn’t left her. She’d left him.
“Oh, my God,” she groaned, her head falling back against the waiting room wall. “I’ve made a terrible mistake.”
