by Chris Taylor
“I do.”
She stared at him and shook her head. “What do you mean?”
“It was the condom. It was old. I’d had it in my wallet for months. Somehow, it broke.”
Surprise surged through her. “It broke? You mean, while we were…?”
“Yes. You fell asleep right afterwards. When I pulled the condom off, I discovered there was a hole in it.”
“You didn’t think to tell me? To warn me that there was a risk I could fall pregnant? And what about diseases? You didn’t think I’d want to know?”
Tom shook his head. “It wasn’t like that and I knew I was clean. We have regular medicals through the police service.” He shrugged and looked uncomfortable. “I’m sorry. I should have told you. I was going to, but you were asleep. We’d just shared something beautiful. I didn’t want to spoil it. Besides, the odds of you getting pregnant had to be a thousand to one. When the weeks went by and you said nothing, I assumed we’d gotten lucky.”
Lily felt his words like a knife to the heart. He hadn’t wanted a baby, after all. “Gotten lucky? Is that what you thought?”
Tom frowned at the quiet sobriety of her tone. “That’s not what I meant, Lily. It was a figure of speech. Neither of us were planning on becoming parents. Now that we are, I couldn’t be happier. I’m not going to let you use against me the fact that I felt relief when I thought I hadn’t gotten my nineteen-year-old girlfriend pregnant.”
Lily stared at him and knew with a certainty that she believed him. What he said was true. She’d been devastated to discover she was having a baby. It didn’t mean she didn’t want it or that she wouldn’t love it and protect it with her life. It was a shock, but one she’d adjusted to and now she couldn’t wait to meet the little person growing inside her. She was glad Tom felt the same way.
He leaned forward and took her face between both of his hands, his skin warm and rough against her cheeks. His gaze was intent on hers, as if pleading with her to understand.
“I want you and I want our baby. I’ll love both of you until the day that I die. I’m not your father, Lily. I’ll never be that man. In fact, I’ll swear to you here and now, on the head of our unborn child that I’ll never get drunk again. The thought of what you and your mom endured angers me beyond words. How could he blame your mom for getting pregnant when he knew darn well he was equally at fault? His utter selfishness and conceit—it’s beyond my ability to comprehend.”
His eyes burned into hers. “Do you believe me, Lily? I will love you and honor you heart and soul, body and mind until the day that I die. Please, believe me.”
The intensity of his expression thawed the icy fear that had encased her heart for as long as she could remember. Without consciously being aware of it, she’d kept part of herself buried beneath a layer of fun and laughter. The most popular girl in high school, the life of the party. It was all an elaborate façade.
Not until Tom Munro had forced his way into her heart was she compelled to confront the demons of her past. And now that she had, she felt like a caged bird that had been suddenly set free.
Her smile turned into a grin and then laughter bubbled up from way down deep inside. Tears coursed down her cheeks. Tom stared at her, confused, unsure if she was laughing or crying.
She tightened her arms around him and then pulled back and took his head between her hands. Pressing her lips against his, she kissed him with all the love in her heart. Within moments, her passion ignited his and he pulled her as close against him as her belly would allow.
The past, the future; the here and now… Everything faded away. There was nothing and no one but the two of them and that’s how it would always be.
* * *
“I’m still not going to marry you.”
Tom’s jaw dropped from sheer astonishment. He’d barely caught his breath from their extended, albeit careful session of lovemaking and Lily was dropping another bombshell. He pushed aside the bed sheets that were twisted around his legs and turned to stare at her.
“What do you mean, you’re not going to marry me? Of course we’re getting married. The baby’s due in like a fortnight. There’s no way he or she is going to be born to single parents.”
To his chagrin, Lily only looked more determined. Her jaw set in a stubborn line. “We can still raise our baby together in love without doing the whole marriage thing. Plenty of people do it. It’s not like our child will be the only kindergartner with parents who aren’t married.”
Tom forced a deep breath through his clenched teeth in an effort not to say something he might regret. When he felt a little more in control, he responded.
“Marriage is not a thing. It’s a lifelong commitment, a proclamation to the world and to God that we’ll love each other, support each other, trust each other, in sickness and in health, until the day that we die. Please tell me you believe in that?”
Lily shrugged, but the shadows in her eyes belied her casual attitude. “I haven’t seen a lot of happily-ever-afters among the married people I know. As well as my parents, there were plenty of kids at my school who’d lived through a divorce. A defacto relationship just seems so much more civilized. It’s almost as if it would make us work harder to stay together, to keep our love strong, if we knew one or the other of us could leave in an instant.”
Tom’s horror grew by the minute. He thought they’d totally addressed the issue of marriage out on the couch. He’d been certain they were in agreement with the way things would be. Their love was strong enough to withstand the test of time.
Isn’t that what both of them believed? She’d just given herself to him, in the sweetest, most magical way and now she was questioning once again whether what they had together would last!
He shook his head in disbelief and prayed it was nothing more than the hormones that had her reasoning going off in crazy directions. The very possibility that she was actually contemplating living together, raising their baby outside the sanctity of marriage went against everything he held dear and true.
Forcing his body to relax, he closed his eyes and breathed deeply, concentrating on the softness of the pillow beneath his head. He counted to ten in silence and then opened his eyes and turned to her, pitching his voice low. “What are you afraid of, Lily?”
She blinked and then averted her face. A moment later, she reached down and pulled the sheet up over her head. “Who says I’m scared?”
Her muffled voice elicited a grin and his fears eased. Of course the thought of marriage scared her. She hadn’t exactly had the ideal role models in her parents and even though she’d told him her mother and stepfather had made it work, he understood her reticence.
The scars of her childhood ran deep and wouldn’t easily be forgotten. It was up to him to replace those memories with better ones. Gently, he pried the sheet out of her fingers and moved it away from her face. Taking her chin in his hand, he turned her around to face him.
“After being a witness to your parents’ marriage, it’s only right that you’re scared. Hell, if I’d witnessed that much heartache and resentment, I’d feel the same way. The only reason I don’t is because I got lucky. I grew up in a home filled with love and trust and respect. I’m not saying there were never any arguments, but they were handled in a mature way and there was always room for an apology and forgiveness, if it came to that.
“Twenty-plus years down the track and my parents still have a strong and loving marriage. It’s the kind of marriage I want for us. One that I’ve always dreamed of. It’s not just for fairy tales. Happily-ever-afters are possible. I know they are and I’m lucky they’ve shown me how. Think of your mom and Tony. That’s how it can be for us.”
He reached for her hand and held it tightly between both of his own, hoping to convince her with his words and his touch that what he said was true. Pressing kisses against her fingertips, he continued.
“I’m not saying I’m going to be the perfect husband or that I won’t make mistakes, but I believe with everything that I am
that we can make it. We can be one of those couples who love each other ’til death do us part. But I can’t do it alone. I need you to believe in us, too. Do you? Do you believe in us, Lily?”
He stared at her, trying to make her see how much her answer meant to him. When she offered him the tiniest, most hesitant nod, his breath left his mouth in a rush. Wild jubilation flooded through him and he squeezed her so hard she was gasping for breath. Remembering the baby, he eased his hold and then kissed her softly, lovingly on the lips.
He began to caress her belly, marveling at the roundness and firmness of her body. The very feel of it reminded him of the precious cargo that lay within. He was going to be a father, and there safe and snug inside of Lily was his child, a child he would love just as much as it’s mother.
Tom was overcome with emotion, a feeling of joy so profound it hurt. Was it possible to love one, now two people so much that it hurt beyond any physical pain he’d ever endured? While continuing to stroke her belly, he said, “I want you to meet my parents, Duncan and Marguerite. They’ve been married twenty-four years and still look at each other with love. I’m going to show you just how wonderful marriage can be and by the time I’m finished, you’re going to be begging me to walk you down the aisle.”
Tom grinned at her and was relieved when she smiled back.
“Really? Begging? I’m not too sure about that.”
Tom hugged her again, but gently this time and pressed another soft kiss against her lips. “Okay, I don’t give a damn about the begging. Just as long as you’re willing to say ‘I do.’ That’s the only thing that matters.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Roseville, Sydney—present day
Hannah Sutton stared at the blue and red and white strobe lights that bounced off the walls of her modern townhouse. Police and ambulance vehicles littered the front lawn. Another van, this one parked closest to the walkway that led up to her front door had the word “morgue” stenciled across it in reflective gold lettering. A small crowd had gathered in the far corner, right beneath the ancient gum tree, its bark curling from the unseasonable spring heat.
A murmur sounded from the onlookers and Hannah turned in time to see the morgue workers pushing a gurney that held her son. Not that she could see him. He’d been zipped into a bright blue, plastic body bag, the smallest hump on the long steel structure that was the stretcher.
An arrow of pain shot through her and forced its way out through her mouth. She cried out at the sight of Brady, so small and so dead. She’d never forget the way he’d looked when she’d found him, with his eyes bulging in his head. His tongue hung from his mouth, dry and swollen. His skin was blue and cooling.
She didn’t know how long he’d been hanging there, but it was obvious it had been long enough. She’d screamed and raced to pull him down, feeling frantically for a pulse. Even as she did it, she’d known it was an exercise in futility. She was too late to save him. Brady, her little boy was dead and there was no bringing him back.
In a daze, she’d called the police and had then found the number for Brady’s dad. She couldn’t even remember what she’d screamed at him, but her anger had found its head. It was all his fault. Instead of providing guidance and being a good role model for their son, he’d given him the gun and then allowed him to play out his fantasies with a violent video game where the heroes shot others indiscriminately for pleasure and sport.
What kind of man and father would misguide his son in such a way? And to think it had all been done in secret behind her back. The guilt of not knowing what her son had been involved in would be with her for the rest of her life. She’d taken out her despair and anger on her husband and had cursed and slung every possible venomous word that came to her. She’d ended the conversation by telling him that Brady’s blood would forever be on his hands.
A low howl of pain now started deep inside her and worked its way through her bones. With her head in her hands, she fell to her knees and screamed out her agony and desolation. Despite her ranting and raving at her ex, it was her fault Brady was dead. He’d said as much when she’d last tried to discuss it with him. If she’d intervened at school, if she’d listened and given credence to his pleas… How would she ever forgive herself? How would she live with the guilt?
She couldn’t.
It was as simple as that.
* * *
Royal North Shore Hospital
Not long after the nurse had called for someone to escort Tom back to his ward, an elderly male porter with a grizzled face and kind eyes arrived in recovery, accompanied by a nurse. After the nurse collected his paperwork from Tessa, the man eased off the brakes on the gurney and began pushing it out the door. Relieved, to be heading back to the ward, Tom stared at the white paneled ceiling above his head and prayed for good news about Lily.
Now that his medical emergency had been dealt with, he was eager to return to her side. With a ding and a swish, the doors to the elevator swung open and he did his best to reign in his impatience. The porter whistled a quiet tune and seemed in no hurry to arrive at his destination. Tom guessed it was probably hard work pushing him and the gurney and tried to distract himself with conversation.
“So, have you worked here long…Mohammed?” he asked, spying the man’s name on his hospital identification.
“Twenty-five years this summer,” the man replied with a toothy grin, his teeth as white as his hair.
“Wow, you must have seen a lot of people come and go. Have you always worked around the theaters?”
“Nope. I had a stint in the X-ray department back in the nineties. Even worked in rehab for a short while, but I like the theaters the best. I take people down from their wards, all stressed out and concerned about their pendin’ surgery and then I get to take them back again when they’ve woken up and it’s all over.”
He gave Tom a wink. “Take you, for example. I pushed you down here a few hours ago and you never said a word. I bet you didn’t even notice me. I was just some dumb old man pushin’ your gurney. Now, when the drama’s over and you’re headin’ back to your loved ones, you’re all talkative and friendly.”
“I didn’t mean to—”
“Hey, don’t get me wrong. I ain’t complainin’. I’m just makin’ an observation. It’s not just you. It’s everyone. I’ve learned not to take it personally.”
Tom’s smile was a little strained, still embarrassed that what the porter had said was true. He hadn’t paid any heed to the man who transported him to the operating room. His head had been full of the upcoming surgery and the risks involved. Now that it was over and had apparently gone well, his thoughts were on anything but.
“You’re right, Mohammed, and I’m sorry. I was a little distracted earlier, but I want to thank you for what you do. A lot of people forget about all the staff behind the scenes. When we think of hospitals, we think of the doctors and nurses, but without people like you and the kitchen staff and even the cleaners, the place wouldn’t run. You need more recognition, Mohammed.” This time, Tom’s grin was genuine.
“Ain’t you right about that, Mr Munro,” Mohammed grinned back at him.
A moment later, the elevator dinged again and the doors slid open. Mohammed wheeled Tom outside and into the corridor that led to his ward. Another nurse met them at the entryway.
“Welcome back, Mr Munro. You’re looking good.”
“Thanks. I’m relieved it’s all over.”
“You’ll need to take it easy for the next little while. I’ll get Mohammed to take you to your room. I think your brother’s there waiting for you.”
Tom nodded. At the mention of Brandon, his thoughts flew to Lily and he couldn’t help but wonder if there had been any news. He’d been away from the ward a good chunk of time. Anything could have happened. Good or bad.
His mind shied away from the possibility that she’d gone downhill in his absence. He had to remain positive. After all, his operation had gone well. There was no reason Lily couldn’t be so
lucky.
Mohammed swung the gurney into the private room and Tom spied Brandon in one corner, lounging against the wall. The television was on but tuned so low it was nothing but a murmur. Upon registering Tom’s arrival, Brandon pushed himself off the wall and came toward him.
“Tom! It’s so good to see you. I take it the operation went well?”
Tom slid across from the gurney to his bed and nodded. “Yeah, at least, that’s what everyone’s been saying.”
In silence, Mohammed pushed the gurney out of the way and headed toward the door. The nurse who had accompanied him pulled out a thermometer.
“Hey, Mohammed?” Tom called and waited for the man to turn around. “I just wanted to say thanks. For everything. None of this,” Tom waved around the hospital room, “would be possible without you.”
“Thank you, Mr Munro. I appreciate your sayin’ so.”
Tom acknowledged his thanks with a nod. “You have a good afternoon, Mohammed.”
“You, too, Mr Munro. You, too.”
The minute Mohammed cleared the door, Brandon moved closer to Tom’s bed. “I’m so glad to see you and to hear that everything went well and I can’t wait to tell you the news.”
“I’m just going to take your temperature and blood pressure, Mr Munro. I won’t be a minute.”
Tom stared up at Brandon and took note of the grin that widened his brother’s lips. Chafing at the delay caused by the nurse, he counted the seconds while she recorded his vital signs. Brandon seemed to be humming with excitement and a tiny spark of hope ignited deep down in Tom’s gut. He did his best to tamp down on it in case the news had nothing to do with Lily, but as soon as the nurse departed, the words fell out of his mouth in a rush.
“News? About Lily? Did she… Did she wake up?”
Brandon’s grin turned into a whoop of glee and he punched the air. “Hell, yeah, she woke up! And not only woke up, but is asking for you. She’s going to be all right, big brother. She’s going to be all right.”