Reunited by Their Pregnancy Surprise

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Reunited by Their Pregnancy Surprise Page 16

by Louisa Heaton


  It must have hurt her terribly to consider walking away. To have written that letter.

  Sam felt ashamed.

  He’d been in the wrong and he’d allowed his fear to keep them apart.

  Emily had fought for him. Always. Should he really be giving up on her? Or seeing whether she would give him one last chance? A chance to show her how much he loved her and how much he wanted to fight for her.

  No one had ever fought to stay in her life.

  But I’m determined to be the one who does. No matter what.

  Desperate to put things right, he picked up his mobile and with trembling fingers called the Monterey.

  ‘It’s Sam. Is Emily there today?’ He didn’t care if the staff were wondering about why he was asking. Surely he should know if his wife was working?

  ‘She’s at home today, Mr Saint.’

  ‘Thank you.’

  He took a deep breath, indicated again, and pulled back out into the traffic. He knew now. He knew what he had to do to put things right.

  He was not going to fail at his marriage.

  *

  Emily sucked in a deep breath and closed her eyes as she stood in the garden, the sun shining down upon her face, hoping to find the peace and calm that mindfulness—a technique she sometimes used with her labouring patients—should bring.

  It had been an upsetting time since Sam had left, and she’d worried about where he’d gone until she’d received a whispered phone call from his mother to let her know he was safe and well and at her house.

  She’d been grateful to his mother for letting her know. It had put her mind at rest.

  The garden provided solace. Their private garden, at the back of the house, was in full bloom, populated by some of the flowers that she’d carried in her wedding bouquet—Calla lilies, baby’s breath, white roses. They reminded her of that special day they’d had. The day she’d thought all her dreams were coming true.

  But the worst had happened. He’d found that awful letter and reacted badly to it. But they could put it right, couldn’t they? It didn’t have to mean it was the end of everything. No, she hadn’t told Sam the whole truth, but she’d been doing it honourably, protecting him from all the harmful things that had been said. Surely he’d be able to see that when he calmed down?

  Her cell phone rang in her pocket, disturbing her thoughts.

  ‘Em? It’s Sam. I’m coming over.’

  She slipped the phone back into her pocket and felt a nervousness start deep down low in her belly. She hadn’t expected him to call. He’d said nothing to her for days. Why was he coming? To say goodbye?

  Feeling sick, she absently rubbed at her belly.

  If he was coming here to say goodbye then she would make sure she told him, one last time, that she had always fought for him, always protected him, always loved him. She would make sure that his last memory of her was one that proved she had never given up on him—even if he was going to try to give up on her.

  So she quickly returned to the house, put on the powder-blue dress from Paris. When he arrived she would remind him about their wedding day and remind him of the vows they’d taken. Vows that, to her, had meant everything. She would not be meek and accept him walking away.

  She returned to the garden, seeking that earlier sense of peace she was so desperate to feel again, and waited for him to arrive.

  She didn’t have to wait long.

  She became aware that someone was looking at her, and as she turned back to the house there was Sam, standing on the stone steps leading down to the garden. He had a strange look on his face. He certainly didn’t look as angry or as upset as he had the other day, when he had walked away.

  Tell him now.

  She stepped towards him, but he raised his hand. ‘Can I speak first?’

  Emily closed her mouth and nodded. She would listen to what he had to say.

  ‘How have you been?’

  It wasn’t what she’d been expecting. She’d thought he’d come straight out with it. Keep it short. I’m leaving you for good.

  She refused to cry, but already she could feel tears pressing against her eyes. ‘How do you think I’ve been?’

  He nodded, his gaze dropping to her belly and then moving up again, to her face. ‘I should have told you where I was.’

  ‘You were at your mother’s house. She told me.’

  ‘She did?’ He seemed surprised, but then he nodded, smiling. ‘I should have known.’

  ‘You should have done it yourself.’

  He looked right at her, then. ‘You’re right. I’m sorry.’

  Seeing him like this was painful. This man was someone she’d thought she would get to love for ever. Now he was standing across from her like a stranger, and all she could think about was how it felt to be in his loving arms!

  ‘You don’t deserve someone like me, Em. Someone who’s hurt you like I did. I’m sorry I made you feel that way.’

  She sucked in some air. He was building up to it, wasn’t he? Why didn’t he just say it? Get it out in the open so that she could weep and wail and cry when he was gone?

  ‘Well…’

  ‘Can you give me another chance?’

  She stopped breathing. What? What had he just said? She looked up into his face. ‘I’m sorry?’

  Sam walked up to her. ‘I remember.’

  Emily frowned. What? He remembered? ‘Have you had another memory come back?’

  He nodded. ‘I’ve had them all come back. I remember it all. The good, the bad. The ugly.’

  A small divot formed between her eyebrows.

  ‘I’ve come here to say I’m sorry. I should never have walked away from you the other day. It was…an old habit. You see, I’ve learned one or two things since I left. I’ve realised that most of this—our problems, our disagreements—they were all my fault.’

  Really? He was actually saying all these words? Words that meant so much—words that were on the way to healing them. Mending them. Bringing them back together. Was it possible?

  Her heart began to pound. But she couldn’t let him shoulder all the responsibility.

  ‘No, Sam. It was me. I kept pushing you. Pushing you to commit to a family because I thought if I didn’t push you would drift away from me—like everyone else. And you weren’t ready.’

  ‘I was ready, though. I was just terrified of failing at it.’

  She shook her head, not understanding.

  ‘I’ve always succeeded at everything, but when I lost my baby sister I experienced feelings I didn’t know how to deal with. I was sixteen, and no one at home talked about it, so I had to process it myself. Something in me must have decided that I was never going to feel that way again. Like I was losing myself. Like I’d lost control. When you asked for a baby that wasn’t unreasonable, but I saw it as something I could fail at. I had no certainties, no assurances that everything would be fine and so I pushed it away. Pushed you away. And then I began to fail at my marriage. And though I saw that it was crumbling I tried to pretend that it wasn’t happening. I’m sorry.’

  ‘Oh, Sam! I should never have pushed you so hard. There were so many things I’d never been given answers to, and there you were doing it too! I couldn’t stand that, when I loved you so much. I still don’t know why I was so easy for my mother to leave me behind, but when you left me too? I feared there might be something wrong with me. That there was something inherently unloveable about me that made people leave.’

  He reached for her hand.

  ‘Or perhaps I pushed them away? I pushed you.’

  ‘No Em. You were never in the wrong. You were—are—incredibly loving and loveable. You didn’t push your mother—or me. To me, you said what needed to be said. And I’m glad you did, because it forced me to confront myself. I needed to do that, to see why I behaved like I did, and I’m sorry if I hurt you with anything I have said. I never meant it. I just lashed out verbally because it was easier than dealing with my own issues. I’m sorry, Em. I
truly am.’

  Emily sank into his arms, her head against his chest. ‘Don’t be. I trust you, Sam. With my whole heart. I would give it up to you right now.’

  They held each other for a moment—a beautiful moment in which the birds sang in the trees around them and the gentle breeze played with the hem of her dress.

  ‘I love you, Sam.’

  ‘I love you, Em.’

  They looked at each other, seeing the love they needed, thrived on, lived on. Emily pulled him to her so that her lips could meet his.

  The kiss was gentle, solemn, heartfelt. Emily was thrilled that his memories had returned at last, and that he appeared to have worked through his issues. Obviously his time away had helped heal him. If he and his mother had talked about Serena, then hopefully she was healing, too.

  When the kiss ended Emily looked up into his eyes and smiled. ‘I’d marry you again right now if I could. To prove to you how I feel.’

  Sam looked at her and laughed. ‘Me too. But, you know, I remember the first lot of vows, and they were pretty damn good.’

  ‘They certainly were.’

  He stooped and scooped her up into his arms, and she laughed, surprised.

  ‘Allow me, though, to carry you over the threshold.’

  He started heading back towards the house and Emily laid her head against his chest.

  This was the dashing Sam she remembered. The man who’d used to be full of romantic overtures. The gentleman.

  The man she loved.

  She knew they would be okay now. There was nothing left to break them. No secrets that Sam didn’t know. No memories left unremembered.

  He knew everything. The good, the bad and the ugly.

  Now they could focus on creating more of the good and more of the amazing. She and Sam were united. Husband and wife. Soon to be a family.

  The baby would start kicking soon.

  And then they would both enjoy their new adventure as parents.

  Together.

  EPILOGUE

  SAM HAD SEEN many babies come into the world, and each of those births had put a smile upon his face. But nothing could have prepared him for the way he felt when his own daughter made it into the world.

  Emily had been great. She’d not written a birth plan. She’d just told everyone that she would do what her body told her to do. And when the contractions had got stronger and longer she had chosen to get into the tub.

  Her labour had been very relaxed and soothing. Even during the most intense of contractions she had breathed carefully through it, her eyes closed, intent on what was happening within her.

  He’d held her hands as she’d got onto her knees in the water. He’d coached her.

  ‘One…two…three…four… And breathe…’

  When she’d begun to push the strain on her face had been incredible, but she had borne the pains well and worked with them, using them to help deliver the baby slowly and safely.

  As Mia Saint had slithered into the water Emily had gasped and reached down between her legs and brought their daughter to the surface for her first breath.

  I’m a father!

  She was so beautiful! So perfect!

  He hadn’t known he could cry so much. He wasn’t even aware that tears were pouring down his face until Emily looked up at him with so much love and reached up to wipe them away. He pressed her hand to his face and then kissed her palm, before he laid his hand upon his daughter’s head.

  No matter what was to come he would protect them both. He would love them to the end of his days. And if there were challenges or difficulties then he knew they would face them together.

  These last few months he and Emily had just got stronger and stronger.

  He’d delegated, as promised. He’d never worked more than sixty hours a week. And when he was home, he was present. Sometimes things didn’t get done, but that was okay—because the most important thing was his family.

  And now, as he held Mia in his arms, he realised that he was still scared of the responsibility, but he knew in his heart that every father felt the same way. It was natural. Normal.

  And, as a father, he knew his daughter would rule his heart.

  He would grant her every wish.

  If he failed at something, then he would learn from it, and if he needed to lean on Emily then he knew she would be there for him.

  He didn’t have to do anything alone any more.

  He kissed Mia’s squashed little nose, then leaned forward and kissed Emily. ‘I love you. I’m so proud of you.’

  She smiled back and stroked his face. ‘And I love you. Don’t forget—we’re a great team, you and me.’

  He kissed her. Slowly. Softly. ‘I never forget.’

  *

  If you enjoyed this story, check out these other great reads from Louisa Heaton

  CHRISTMAS WITH THE SINGLE DAD

  SEVEN NIGHTS WITH HER EX

  ONE LIFE-CHANGING NIGHT

  A FATHER THIS CHRISTMAS?

  All available now!

  Keep reading for an excerpt from THEIR ONE NIGHT BABY by Carol Marinelli.

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  Their One Night Baby

  by Carol Marinelli

  CHAPTER ONE

  ‘HELLO, BEAUTIFUL!’

  Victoria’s smile was friendly as she walked into the lounge ahead of Glen, to where little Penelope Craig, or Penny, as she liked to be known, lay on the sofa. Victoria had already had a conversation with Julia, Penny’s mother, in the hallway.

  Usually, two paramedics dressed in green overalls entering a home would be a somewhat nerve-racking sight for a six-year-old, but little Penny was more than used to it.

  ‘Victoria!’

  Even though she was unwell, little Penny sat up a touch on the sofa where she lay, and her huge grey eyes widened in delight. She was clearly pleased that it was her favourite paramedic who was here to take her to Paddington Children’s Hospital, or the Castle as it was more generally known.

  ‘She hoped that it would be you coming to take her,’ Julia said.

  Victoria gave a friendly smile to Julia and then went to sit on the edge of the sofa to chat to her patient. ‘Yes, I was just thinking the other day that I haven’t seen you in a while.’

  ‘She’s been doing really well,’ Julia said.

  There was a three-way conversation going on as Victoria gleaned some history from Julia and also checked Penny.

  Penelope Craig had been born with a rare congenital heart condition and had spent a lot of her life as a patient at the Castle, but for a while she had been doing well. Her dark hair was tied in braids and she was wearing pyjamas. Over the top of the
m was a little pink tutu that she wore all the time.

  Penny was going to be a ballet dancer one day.

  She told that to everyone.

  ‘Your mum said that you’ve not been feeling very well today?’ Victoria said as she checked Penny’s pulse.

  ‘I’m nauseous and febrile.’

  Whereas most children would say that they felt sick and hot, Penny had spent so much time in medical settings that she knew more than a six-year-old should.

  She was indeed febrile and her little heart was beating rapidly when Victoria checked her vital signs.

  ‘She’s being admitted straight to the cardiac unit,’ Julia said as Victoria checked Penny over. It wasn’t an urgent transfer but, given Penny’s history, a Mobile Intensive Care Unit had been sent and Victoria was thorough in her assessment.

  ‘Though,’ Julia added, ‘they want her to have a chest X-ray first in A&E.’

  Which might prove a problem.

  Accident and Emergency departments didn’t like to be used as an admissions hub, though it was a problem Victoria dealt with regularly. In fact, just three days ago she had had an argument with Dominic MacBride, a paediatric trauma surgeon, about the very same thing.

  Victoria just hoped he wasn’t in A&E this evening, as they tended to clash whenever she brought a patient in.

  Generally though, things were better at Paddington’s than at most hospitals. The staff were very friendly and there was real communication between departments.

  And also, Penny was a little bit of a star!

  They’d just have to see how it went.

  ‘I like your earrings,’ Penny said when Victoria had finished taking her blood pressure.

  ‘Thank you.’

  Usually Victoria wore no jewellery at work. It was impractical, given that she never knew what her day might entail. Her long dark brown hair was tied up in its usual messy bun and, of course, she wore no make-up for work. So yes, her diamond studs stood out a touch.

  The earrings had been a gift from her father and Victoria wore them for special occasions. She had been at a function yesterday and had forgotten to take them out.

  Penny was ready to be transferred to the hospital. For such a little child, often Glen or Victoria would carry them out, the goal being not to upset them. Once though, Victoria had referred to the stretcher as a throne and Penny, who loved anything to do with fairytales, had decided that she rather liked it.

 

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