by Rachel Dove
As time had gone on and he’d found out he couldn’t have children, going home had seemed an impossibility. What could he offer her, after all? What if the cancer came back, or she wanted children? He didn’t want to derail her life all over again, so once more he’d chosen to protect her heart over his. Right then and there he knew he wouldn’t go back to London. He couldn’t get the all-clear and rock up at home with a ring. Not when it would only ever be the two of them. He knew that Annabel wanted children. They both did; they’d spoken of it often. An abstract vision for the future that they’d always assumed they would be able to fulfil when the time was right. Working abroad, saving up and seeing the world, then returning home to buy the house they’d always liked as kids and raising their little family.
Knowing that he would be returning home after so long with only the promise of the two of them together, he knew it wouldn’t be fair. He’d broken her heart once and he didn’t want to do it again. She could be happy with someone else, have the family she’d always wanted. He would just be a footnote in the story of her life. A bad, abandoning ex-boyfriend.
But now he knew that he should have come back all along. He should have flown home and fought harder. He was such a coward and look what it had cost them both. He’d ruined both their lives, and their son had been caught in the crossfire. Life was cruel but, thinking about Annabel’s news, all he could feel was happiness right now. He had a child with the love of his life. That was something he’d never imagined post cancer. Hearing that he’d left her pregnant was just too cruel a twist of fate to comprehend right now. He felt as if the universe was laughing at him.
‘I get why you don’t want to meet, but I have so many questions,’ he said eventually, his throat feeling dry. ‘Does he know about me?’
Annabel winced, stuttering a little. ‘No. I told him I’d just met his father the once. The same as I told everyone.’
Harry could feel the shock wash over him, his nerve-endings tingling. ‘You didn’t tell anyone the truth? I can’t believe it.’
‘No, and I don’t need your judgement. You’d just left, you weren’t talking to any of us. I made up a story. People were mad enough at you, and I couldn’t bear their judgement. I get that you’re mad but—’
‘No. Well, yes, I am, but...thank you.’
‘Thank you? What the hell for?’
He closed his eyes in frustration. ‘I just mean...thank you. I know that sounds stupid but thank you. I don’t deserve it, any of it. I’m so sorry I didn’t call. I’m sorry I put you in that position.’
‘I did it for me,’ Annabel said coldly. ‘And Aidan. I didn’t want him to know about you, that you left us both without a backward glance. You coming back has forced my hand.’
‘I know, but I don’t want to hurt you or him. That’s the last thing I want. Listen, can I meet him? I’d like to meet him. I’m just outside Dad’s at the minute, but—’
Abe... He had another conversation or twenty coming then. ‘Sorry, I didn’t mean to push. I just—How is he? How did you manage...?’ His voice trailed off. ‘Are you with anyone?’
She huffed out a breath. ‘Since I admitted I hadn’t slept with anyone since you left me for dust, barefoot and pregnant, I guess I don’t need to answer that. Meeting Aidan is another matter. I’ll need to think on it. I have to think about him. He’s gone through a lot recently.’
She sounded angry, guarded, and he couldn’t blame her. He wanted to reply but he was too busy trying to get his size ten foot out of his mouth. He needed the next words to be clear, and to come out right.
‘Annabel, I didn’t mean it like that. I guess I’m just adjusting. I do have things to tell you though, a lot of things. Can we meet—just us, I mean? Without Aidan.’ Just hearing him saying his name felt weird. ‘Aidan.’ He said it again. ‘I like his name.’
‘I don’t think we should. Listen, you’re working with me tomorrow; we’ll have a lot to get through.’ Harry heard a beep on the line, and Annabel spoke again. ‘I have to go, I have another call. It’s Aidan, I’m due to pick him up from his friend’s house. I should go.’
‘Wait...er...’ He didn’t know what he was going to say, but he had to get it out. ‘You don’t want me to see him, do you?’
Her hesitation made his heart stop. She didn’t want him to meet her son. Their son. He’d really screwed everything up.
You’re an idiot, Harry. What did you expect? The red carpet treatment? Two years of treatment and follow-ups, five years in remission, and almost a year to pack up his old life. All time away from his little family. All for nothing. He’d lost everything all over again. And more.
He held his breath, waiting for her next words.
‘No,’ she said eventually. ‘I didn’t tell you about Aidan expecting anything. You came back, so you needed the facts. That’s it. Nothing more. We have a life, Harry. One that doesn’t involve you. I told myself I would tell you the truth if I ever saw you again.’
* * *
She paused for a minute, trying and failing to keep her voice steady. She couldn’t let him in now; she just couldn’t bear the risk. She wouldn’t survive another Harry heartbreak. ‘You are my past, Harry, and I want you to stay that way. I’ll see you in the morning, ready to work.’
She could feel herself start to cry again, and she ended the call before he could respond. There, she’d done it. She’d been true to her son, and herself.
When Aidan had been born, Tom was her birth partner. Her friends had been there for the whole pregnancy. Abe had been the parent she needed. Her shock about the baby and disappointment at Harry had been tangible, and she’d kept her distance from the deeper conversations. They’d all just circled each other: Annabel broken-hearted, reeling from the news that she was expecting, Abe helping her where he could in practical terms. He’d even told the station that she was in a position to take the job. To their credit, they’d pulled together as a team through her maternity leave, and when she was ready the job was hers to step back into. As hard as that was, with a baby to raise and a career to keep on track.
She’d almost folded and told Abe the truth so many times. Aidan was his grandson after all. He had played the role since Aidan was a baby bump, but she’d never told him they were blood. With her friends and colleagues, it had been slightly easier. She hated pity and that would have been one big party. Annabel herself had never thought that way, not once she’d held Aidan in her arms in that hospital room. Tom had gone home to rest, and he and Lloyd were coming to collect her and the baby later that afternoon. She had the support, the friends, the family.
Abe had scooped her up that day at the airport and had been steadfastly on her side ever since. If he had been speaking to Harry, that would be a different matter. She wouldn’t have put Abe in that position, but they’d fallen out before Aidan left for Dubai. Abe was stubborn in many ways, and he had never hidden the fact that he’d wanted Harry to become a GP, take the practice on after his retirement.
She didn’t know if they’d ever spoken after those first few months of getting radio silence, and she knew never to ask. It wasn’t fair on Abe to do so. That was down to Harry too. He’d walked away from them all without a backwards glance. He’d never even told his friends.
When she’d looked at the newborn child in her arms, the child who looked so much like her now, she’d promised him that he would never be left behind. She’d promised herself that day in the maternity ward that if Harry ever surfaced again she would tell him about his son, but that would be it. He wouldn’t be given any opportunities to wreck the boy’s life as he had theirs. Not a chance. She knew what having a wayward father did to a child, she’d experienced it first-hand, and the toll it had taken on her mother. Aidan knew that his dad wasn’t around, that his mummy loved him very much. All true. Till now.
The questions would get harder as he grew, she knew, and they had, but that was the pr
omise she’d made that day, and even though she’d questioned her decision many times over the years, she’d stuck to it. She wasn’t the one who didn’t know how to treat people, or to honour the promises she made. Aidan knew he had a father. He just didn’t know him. He was an abstract part of his life, and Annabel wasn’t about to confuse him by telling him the truth.
Harry was back to work tomorrow at the station and work they would. Hell, she’d been through worse times lately. Like the night she’d called Harry and begged him to come home, almost confessing her love for him still. He’d ruined that second chance too.
CHAPTER TWO
Six months earlier...
ANNABEL TOOK ANOTHER swig of her drink and gripped the phone tight. She was more than tiddly now, and she was grateful for the numb sensation it provided. She never would have got the courage to call otherwise. Her inhibitions were well and truly lowered.
‘Sometimes I despise you for leaving me here alone, to face all of this. When I’m tired, or on days like today. I needed you today, more than I ever have since you left. I really needed you and guess what, you weren’t there!’
She flicked her glass around her, gesturing wildly and splashing some of the contents down herself. Aidan had been given the all-clear after his fall in the school gym, and Tom was staying with him that night in the hospital to give her the night off before he came home. His head injury had been terrifying, but with the fear and worry, adrenalin had kicked in. Once Aidan was in the clear and was due home, all that had left Annabel and instead of relief she’d felt sad. And angry. Both aimed at Harry.
When Aidan had hit his head, it had crossed her mind that her son might die. She saw it all the time in her job. People took a little tumble and that was it. Lights out. Then she’d thought of Harry, miles away and utterly unaware that his son could have died. A son he didn’t even know about. Instead of getting showered and going straight to bed, she’d opened a bottle of something strong instead, and the swirl of guilt had wrapped itself around her mind again. He should be here to see his son. She’d picked up the phone and dialled his number. She had a lot to say, even if it was into a voicemail void.
‘Sometimes, you know, I have whole conversations with you in my head. I lie awake some nights, tearing a strip off you mentally. But what’s the point, eh? You never hear me. You won’t even get this. You probably didn’t get any of the messages we sent. I doubt you even kept your old number. I don’t even know why I bothered. Nostalgia, probably. It’s been a funny kind of week. An awful, scary week. If you do ever get this, Harry—’ Sigh. ‘Come home. Just come home. You’ve missed out on so much already. You’ll never know just how much. It could have been so different, you know? I—’ Even in her haze, she stopped herself short of telling him about Aidan. It wasn’t something she wanted to tell him in a message over the phone. The thought of never knowing whether he’d heard it would be too much for her to take and obsess over.
‘Just please...come home. I still lo—I want you to come home. I don’t want some phone call to say you’re sorry. It means nothing. Just...just get here. Be here for the people that need you, Harry.’
Clicking the off button with an unsteady hand, she pushed the phone away from her on the table. Even in her drunken state, she knew that she’d just dropped the ball. Or, more like, an epic clanger. She’d meant every word, but she’d never gone as far as actually telling him that. She had never let herself get that low, that weak before. She felt as if she’d just rolled over and showed him her soft underbelly. The same spot that she usually kept covered with her daily applied armour. She hated herself a little for it. Thank God she was too drunk to call him again and take it all back. She’d shown enough weakness for one day.
Sitting in her flat, she wondered to herself how things had got so bad. How the girl standing in that airport wouldn’t recognise the life she now had. And she couldn’t one hundred per cent attest to the fact that the old her would have done things differently. Now, after almost losing her son to a stupid slip at school, she couldn’t seem to be anything but mad. Mad that she was doing everything on her own. Dealing with the guilt she felt over her decision to keep the two people she cared about the most apart. Not all times were bad, after all. Many, if not most, of her happy memories pre-Aidan involved Harry, and Tom and some of the others on the team that had stuck around after qualifying.
She tortured herself wondering what Harry had been doing all this time. Was he even still in Dubai? For all she knew, he was married now. Had his own family to look after. How would Aidan fit into that? She didn’t want another mother helping to raise her child. It was another one of the reasons she’d never told him. The more time that passed, the harder it might be.
* * *
Harry heard Annabel end the call, the line clicking off in his ear as he stood in the night. His father’s house was right in front of him, his old estate car still sitting in the drive. Everything looked the same, if a little smaller. It felt smaller to him, but at this moment in time he didn’t trust his eyes. He was still reeling from the bombshell that Annabel had dropped on him.
I have a baby son. No, he was nearly eight years old now. Hardly a baby. There’d been no sign that Annabel was pregnant before he’d left for Dubai. He knew she was telling the truth, but it didn’t help him any. Now, instead of just feeling the shame and regret of walking out on his life, he also had to reconcile the fact that he’d missed out on meeting his son. Of course Annabel didn’t want him to meet him. Why would she? He’d done nothing in the last near decade that would give her any reason or inclination to do so.
He’d walked away to protect Annabel, and that had meant cutting everyone else off too. It had been the only way. And now he was cowering outside his father’s house, wondering what the hell he was going to walk into this time. What would his father say about this? He’d obviously kept his own call from Annabel too. Whether that was to protect her or his wayward son, he had no idea. He guessed he was about to find out.
Six months ago, he’d picked up the drunken message from Annabel. He’d been on shift, and when he checked his pocket and saw the missed call he could have wept. From fear or happiness, he didn’t know. Then panic had set in. She’d stopped calling years ago—why call now? When he saw she’d left a voicemail he’d rung his father straight away, not wanting to listen to the news that she must have been calling about. Bad news from home. That must have been why she’d called. Given the fact that they’d both grown up for the most part with one parent and no other family other than the one they’d made for themselves, it was easy to make the connection. She was obviously just passing on some unavoidable item of news. Why else would she be calling, right?
When his dad had answered he’d felt more than relief. He’d also felt a sudden longing deep within him, a feeling that if he could have clicked his fingers to be transported back home, he would have. When his surprised dad had rung off, seemingly believing his son when he’d said he just wanted to say hello, that he’d been thinking about him, the feeling hadn’t left him. He was healthy now. He was cancer free, all signed off. He’d built a life in Dubai. He had friends, even been on the odd date or two. It was a life but, hearing from the two ghosts from his past that still seemed to haunt him, he realised that he was done in Dubai. Infertility be damned. He wanted out. When he played the voicemail from Annabel, basically berating him for not being there, begging him to come home, he knew what he had to do. He’d called his dad back.
‘Hello?’
‘Hi, Dad. It’s me again. Listen, I lied just now. Annabel called me.’
He heard the television being turned down in the background, and his father spoke again.
‘Well, I didn’t think you just rang to say hello after all this time of ignoring us. What did she say?’
‘She told me off, basically.’
Abe chuckled. ‘Sounds about right. What else?’ he pressed.
‘Nothin
g. She told me to come home. She said I should be there for the people I left behind.’
‘She’s got a point, son. Took you a while. Did she sound okay?’
‘I think she might have been a little drunk, sad maybe. Everything okay back home?’
Abe sighed, a deep sigh that filled the silence between them. ‘She’s had better times, but it’s not for me to say. What are you going to do? It’s obviously rattled you. Are you okay?’
‘Yeah, I’m okay. I stayed in Dubai. I don’t know what to say. Is anything I say going to make up for what I did?’
‘With me? Ah, son, I’m just glad to hear you’re alive. You’re not asking about me, though. What are you going to do about Annabel?’
‘I’m going to listen to her, Dad. I’m going to get the next flight back.’
‘No son, that’s not a good idea. Not now. Not on impulse.’
‘What do you mean, not now?’
Another sigh. His dad was being cagey, and about a thousand scenarios ran through Harry’s mind.
‘Is she getting married or something, is that what this is? Is she sick?’ The big C word swam round his head. It had taken enough from their lives, but cancer didn’t care how many times it took a bite out of a family.
‘No, son, no. Nothing like that. Listen, you just dropping in for a flying visit is going to do more harm than good, believe me. I think you know that, if you’re honest with yourself. Have you thought this through? She rang you for weeks, Harry, after you left her like that. You put that girl through hell. One call from her now and you’re ready to come back. What’s happened?’
Harry bit the corner of his lip. ‘Nothing, Dad. Listen, back then...it was complicated. I was a different person. A stupid, scared and immature person. Don’t you want me to come home?’
‘I never wanted you to leave in the first place.’ There was a snap in his tone.