by Lucy King
A sudden sharp stab of pain skewered Stella in the abdomen. She gasped, dropped her toothbrush and clutched the sink. A second later, she felt the muscles deep inside her clench, sending another burst of pain shooting through her, and then a seeping warmth between her legs.
Her mind emptied of Jack, of the complicated nature of their relationship and she went numb. And then as the implications of what might be happening hit her instead, her heart began to thunder and her head went fuzzy and then her brain started racing.
Oh, God, please, no.
She couldn’t be losing the baby, she thought with a strangled sob, as another cramp grabbed hold of her, making her tremble uncontrollably. She couldn’t be. It was only the size of a lime but she’d seen it move. She’d heard its heartbeat. Already she loved it with an intensity she’d never have imagined she had the potential to feel. And if she lost it then she’d lose Jack, not that she had him but – ah. Doubling over, she winced and felt tears spilling over and streaming down her face. She hurt. Everywhere. Especially her heart.
Struggling to focus, Stella gathered enough strength to pull herself upright. Desperately willing it to hang on in there, not to give up, she stumbled out of her room, made her way across the sitting area to Jack’s room and banged on his door.
*
Thank fuck for that, thought Jack, flinging back the covers, leaping out of bed and striding to the door at the sound of the knock. Stella had changed her mind. She’d had time to reflect and she’d realised he was right and that she’d been overthinking things. She’d come to tell him she’d been a fool and that she wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the night wrapped around him.
He’d oblige – at length – and then once they’d assuaged the desire that for him at least two horribly cold showers had done precisely nothing to douse, he’d tell her she needn’t worry, everything would be fine. And it would be because he’d thought about nothing else from the moment they’d got up from the table and somehow they’d make this work. It might be complicated but he’d fix it. He wouldn’t allow anything to be otherwise.
With his heart in his mouth and the tension inside him so tight he feared it might snap him in two, Jack plastered a wide, triumphant smile to his face, flung open the door and said, “Hah. I knew you wouldn’t be able to resist.”
But he took one look at Stella’s pale, stricken face, the hand clutched to her abdomen, and the tremors that were racking her body, and his smile fled. The heat whipping around inside him vanished and instead he went icy cold.
“What’s wrong?” he said, his pulse now thundering not with desire but with sheer dread as his every fear whooshed down and engulfed him.
“I’m bleeding.”
Chapter Eleven
Stella was all right. She and the baby were all right. The cause for the pain and the bleeding wasn’t known but the scans showed a strong, healthy heartbeat. Everything was in the correct place. All was as it should be. They were keeping Stella in until the morning for observation, but as she was now eleven weeks and three days pregnant and therefore virtually out of the tricky first trimester, there was no reason to believe that it would happen again. If it did, however, she was to go straight to A&E.
Standing outside Stella’s room on legs that were as weak as water, Jack could see the doctor’s mouth moving and hear the muffled sound of her voice, but the only thing he really got was that everything was all right. What had come after that was largely drowned out by the deluge of relief flooding through him.
But he must have thanked the doctor because she nodded, smiled and moved on, and it was then his legs gave way. Feeling himself begin to collapse, he sank down onto a chair, shudders suddenly gripping his frame as the adrenaline disappeared, leaving nothing but a giant, dark pit of chaos in its wake.
The last two hours had been horrendous. He could barely remember the journey to the hospital, apart from the fact it had been quick. Heaven knew how many speed limits he’d broken. By the time he’d screeched to a halt at the entrance to the hospital Stella was in so much pain she couldn’t walk. He’d had to carry her. Driven by pure fear and panic, he’d located the obstetrics department and demanded to be seen and to hell with the fact that it was one in the morning. He’d issued orders and threats, and within minutes Stella had been put in a private room and a team of doctors had been on its way.
Then all he’d been able to do was wait. And it had been horrific. The smell of the place… The harsh fluorescent lighting… The beeps coming from the machine she’d been hooked up to…
Stella might be all right now, thank God, but he wasn’t. He wasn’t all right at all. He was falling apart and it had nothing to do with memories of Mia, that heartbreaking week or the loss of her and their baby. His head had no space for that. It was too filled with Stella, who was all he could think about now, all he cared about.
And not just because of the baby. Even if there was no baby he’d still care. It wasn’t mere lust he felt for her, he realised with a blinding flash of clarity that exploded inside him and stole his breath. It was more than that, way more. He hadn’t meant for it to happen and he didn’t know how it had, but nevertheless, somehow, she’d come to mean something to him. The terror he’d felt when he’d seen her at his door had been gut-wrenching because in that split second he’d seen the future without her in it and it looked so very bleak.
And God, he thought, a cold sweat breaking out all over his skin as his breath caught, he couldn’t do it again. He just couldn’t. The agony should it all go wrong… The helplessness and the rage. He’d barely survived the last time. If he had to go through it again he didn’t think he would.
So what was he to do?
He couldn’t keep Stella close any more – that much was obvious. The threat she posed to his very survival was simply too great. He needed distance. Time to get these feelings under control before they had the chance to develop into something infinite and irreversible. He couldn’t have her around right now. She was too dangerous. He had to send her home.
*
Thank God everything was all right, thought Stella, looking at the printout of the scan and tracing the outline of the baby. Not that she probably wouldn’t be spending the next six months pretty bloody terrified, but at least for now, the lime was safe. She’d been tested to the nth degree, had had scans of practically every inch of her, all of which were clear, and she didn’t think she’d ever felt relief like it.
Jack had been amazing last night. She might have been helpless with panic but he hadn’t been shocked into inaction. He’d known exactly what to do, grabbing her things and taking her out to the car after the ambulance service had told him that she didn’t qualify as an emergency and therefore they’d send one when they could although it might not be for a while.
At the hospital he’d taken complete control of the situation and she’d been seen within minutes. The authoritative way he’d handled everything had been incredible, especially since the whole experience must have been awful for him. She couldn’t imagine the memories all this must have stirred up. The sheer terror on his face when he’d realised what was going on had been unbearable to witness. His knuckles had been white on the steering wheel, and in between wincing in pain her heart had turned over for him. However bad an experience this had been for her, it must have been ten times worse for him.
If only there was something she could do to make it better, she thought as she swallowed down the lump tightening her throat. It tore at her heart to think about what he must be going through. No one wanted to see the person they loved in such agony.
And she did love him, she realised suddenly, her pulse spiking and her breath catching as it hit her. She adored him. How could she not? He was everything she admired, everything she’d ever wanted. He was the strongest, best man she’d ever met. He was on her team, loyal, protective, there for her and he’d bought her a birthday present.
But how did Jack feel about her? she wondered, her heart thumping crazi
ly and her blood pounding in her ears. It was clear he desired her and enjoyed her company, but could it be more than that? Was there even the remotest possibility he might feel the same way as she did?
All those moments they’d shared… The way she’d caught him looking at her… The faint smiles he’d given her… And then the things he’d done for her. The lengths he’d gone to. He’d told her things and held her hand. It all had to mean something, didn’t it?
And if it did, did they have a future beyond that of simply being parents? She failed to see why not. Yes, there were pretty massive obstacles they’d have to navigate but they weren’t insurmountable. If she and Jack continued to talk, as they had been doing so well recently, they could handle them. They could handle anything.
At the thought that they might actually have a chance of making something of whatever this currently was, Stella went dizzy and closed her eyes. Could she have actually got it right this time? Could she have beaten her demons once and for all? Could her dreams of having a man to love and a family really be within her grasp? God, she hoped so.
She heard the door open, and she opened her eyes to see Jack standing there, watching her, his expression totally unreadable, and her heart turned over with the love she felt for him.
“Hi,” she said softly, aching with the realisation that he looked awful, haggard and pale, maybe even more so now than earlier.
“Hi,” he said, a bit remotely but then that wasn’t a surprise given everything he must have been through tonight. “How are you feeling?”
“Much better. The painkillers have kicked in and it’s such a relief to know that everything’s OK.”
“They want to keep you in overnight.”
“For observation. I know. Although there isn’t that much of the night left, is there?”
“Not a lot.” He rubbed a hand over his face wearily and she wished she could take him in her arms and just hold him until it all went away. “Tomorrow I’ll take you home.”
Home, she thought dreamily. Didn’t that sound lovely? His apartment might be a bit on the masculine side with its white walls and black furniture but that could be fixed. A couple of brightly coloured scatter cushions here, a vase with some freshly cut flowers there. She could have it feeling warmer and cosier in no time. And then she could maybe begin to think about creating a nursery…
Oh, it wouldn’t be easy, but they had time and she certainly had the motivation. They could make this work. She was sure of it.
“London will seem a bit boring after all this,” she said, her smile deepening.
His gaze met hers and he seemed to turn even paler, and for some bizarre reason goosebumps broke out all over her skin. “I don’t mean London.”
His voice was flat and his eyes were devoid of warmth, or anything really, and Stella went a bit cold, those heady dreams disappearing like dandelion puffs on the wind. “Then what do you mean?”
“I mean your home.”
What? She blinked in confusion because surely he couldn’t mean that. Why would he? “Somerset?” she said, just in case she’d somehow got it wrong.
He nodded. “The doctor said you’re out of the danger zone now and so you don’t need constant monitoring.”
Well, no, she didn’t. She never had. But now, she wanted it. She wanted him to care and look after her the way she wanted to care and look after him. When he, judging by the absence of emotion on his face, and the hard line of his jaw, obviously wanted the exact opposite.
Which meant she’d got it wrong. She wouldn’t be adding any feminine touches to his flat. She wouldn’t be decorating any nursery. Not there, anyway, because for some reason he didn’t want her any more.
As the realisation that despite everything, despite all she’d done, another relationship was imploding, Stella’s head began to swim. She couldn’t think. She could hardly breathe. Her throat was as dry as the desert. A shaky, “Right,” was all she could manage.
“I realise now how hugely selfish I’ve been about it all,” he continued, “demanding you move in like I owned you or something. You’ve uprooted your life for me and that hasn’t been fair. But it isn’t too late to rectify that.”
No. What wasn’t fair was what he was doing now, she wanted to say, but couldn’t get the words past the sudden lump in her throat, because, oh God, what really wasn’t fair was that while she’d been busy discovering she was falling in love with him he’d been trying to figure out a way to get rid of her and it was history repeating itself all over again, which meant that contrary to what she’d assumed, she hadn’t learned a thing.
“You seem to be fine,” he said. “The doctors are happy that it’s unlikely to happen again. There’s nothing to stop you from going home. I certainly won’t. In fact, you should go home. You can keep me updated with scans,” he said. “Email is fine.”
Email wasn’t fine. Nothing was fine. “And after?” she managed, her throat tight.
“After what?” he said, genuinely sounding as if he didn’t have a clue what she was talking about and, stunned, Stella stared at him as if seeing him for the first time.
Who was this? she wondered, her heart twisting. Where was the man who’d made her laugh, the man who’d showered her with attention, the man she’d fallen for? It was like he’d been kidnapped and replaced by someone cold and distant, a man she didn’t recognise at all, and it chilled her to the bone to see this side of him, the side that seemed to have absolutely no regard for what she’d just been through.
“After the baby’s born,” she said, unable to believe it needed clarification, unable to believe any of this was happening.
“We can come to some arrangement.”
“Some arrangement,” she echoed.
“It’s not an uncommon scenario,” he said with a shrug that suddenly made her want to hit him. “You were right when you said that parents shouldn’t stay together just for the sake of the child. Absolutely right. It’s for the best. Anyway, I should go,” he added, glancing at his watch and heading for the door. “You’ll be fine. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
But when Jack turned up the next morning ready to take her home, Stella had already gone.
*
Jack was more annoyed that Stella had taken herself off back home than he’d have thought possible. He ought to have been delighted that she’d relieved him of the hassle of a long, awkward drive and potentially uncomfortable conversation.
But was he? No. It had been five days since she’d simply walked out of that hospital, and it still pissed him off hugely. It wouldn’t have been a hassle to take her. It probably wouldn’t have even been all that awkward since she hadn’t exactly put up much of a protest about his very sensible suggestions. Conversation would have been fine, and seeing she got home safely would have been the right thing to do.
Nevertheless, the point was, however she’d exited his life, he should have felt relief. Overwhelming, blessed relief. As he’d intended, the threat to his emotional well-being was no more. The risk of vulnerability and exposure to pain was zero, and he’d achieved both with very little conflict. He ought to be congratulating himself on a disaster well avoided. He ought to be celebrating.
So why wasn’t he? Why did he somehow feel cheated that Stella had apparently discharged herself and had caught a taxi to the station? Why did he feel like nothing was quite right any more? And why did her responses to his texts feel so inadequate? They provided the limited information he needed to know – that she and the baby were all right – so they were more than satisfactory.
Yet ever since he’d arrived back, he’d been walking around like a wet weekend. His offices, usually filled with lively banter and buzzing with energy, were unnaturally silent and calm. On Monday morning he’d bitten the head off one of his traders for getting a market call wrong, and since then his team were now wary of him, if not downright afraid. And he hated that. That wasn’t him. He didn’t want that to be him. The thought that it might be getting worse horrified him.
He couldn’t stand to be home either. His apartment, which had never felt particularly empty, felt like a vast icy vacuum. Stella had only occupied it for a few weeks, but now every time he turned round he expected her to be there. The searing disappointment that came with the realisation she wasn’t was bizarre. Every space held a memory and it drove him insane. The morning he’d found himself going into her room, inhaling deeply the lingering trace of her scent and feeling something tighten his chest, he’d decided to temporarily move into his office. It didn’t matter that the sofa wasn’t particularly comfortable for a man of his size; he barely slept anyway.
But the relocation didn’t help at all. To his intense frustration, he couldn’t get Stella out of his head. Regardless of where he might be she was in there all the damn time and he had no relief. His memory, which constantly recalled little things she’d said and done and the way she’d sometimes looked at him was just too bloody good. His imagination, having a high old time casting her in scorchingly hot starring roles in his dreams, drove him mad. And the look on her face the last time he’d seen her, the hurt in her eyes when he’d told her he basically didn’t want her any more, tormented him night and day.
How could he have done that? Given everything she’d told him, everything he knew about her, how could he have pushed her away like that? He’d been so cruel. So bloody self-absorbed. It wasn’t even the truth. He did want her. It was just… Well, it was just…
