Will grinned, the dimples in his cheeks enough to melt any girl’s heart. Except for mine.
“I don’t know. I don’t think you’re too bad.”
“You barely know me. I can be such a bitch.”
He tapped the table with his index finger. “You should meet my girlfriend. I think you’d get on like a house on fire. She can be a bit cynical at times, too. You’re not so bad, Vanessa.”
“You should know. You’ve seen my vagina.”
Will laughed again and shook his head, his cheeks reddening. “You really need to stop talking about that.”
“Why? It makes you go a great shade of pink.”
“Are you flirting with me?”
The question caught me off guard. I didn’t get along with many people. Connor had been an exception, as had his family who for some reason loved me too.
“I don’t flirt with anybody. I’m a natural people repellent.” I laughed.
“That’s settled then. We’ll just have to be friends.”
I groaned. “Seriously? I have to put up with you?”
Will grinned. “My girlfriend is going to love you. What are you doing after your shift?”
WILL’S GIRLFRIEND, Ali, met us at a bar. Part of me knew I should give Connor a text to let him know I wouldn’t be home for a while, but for the first time in days I relaxed a little and the pressure eased.
Ali was gorgeous. Long brown curly hair and blue eyes. She and Will were perfectly matched. It made me want to puke.
That first vodka and lemonade went down a little bit too easily, and by the fourth, while Will played pool, I was pouring my heart out to this woman I barely knew.
“I feel so selfish. I mean, he’s mourning too, but I need this to be about me.” I slurred, and heard it, making a mental note that this drink would be the last.
“I don’t know if there’s anything selfish in that. It sounds like maybe you just need space.” Ali took another sip of her drink.
“Exactly. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell him. He’s always there. I feel awful not appreciating him, but I need the noise in my head to stop, and when he’s crowding me, it just gets louder.”
Ali placed her drink on the table, her eyes full of sympathy. “I don’t know what to suggest. What’s he doing tonight? Did you invite him? Might be good for him too.”
I shook my head, and reached into my bag for my phone, my heart sinking as I saw the twelve missed calls and just as many text messages, all from Connor, pleading with me to let him know I was okay. I ached for him knowing he must be worried, but at the same time, I could have just picked up an extra shift as I had in the past.
“I should go. Thanks for listening to me,” I said.
“Do you want a lift?” Good old Will, the sober driver and my new best friend, spoke up.
“I’ll just grab a taxi.”
“Don’t you live out west? It’ll cost you a fortune. We’ll take you.”
It hadn’t taken much to deflate me, and I nodded, grateful that I didn’t have to think about what I was doing. Everything was just too hard.
“Text Connor, too. He’ll be worried.” He nudged my arm.
“How do you know?”
“Because if you were Ali, I’d be worried.”
I sighed, standing as the pair of them stood. Traipsing along behind them, I walked out of the bar and down the road toward the car park, stumbling into the back seat and flopping sideways as far as the seatbelt would allow.
“You’re not that drunk,” Will said, bemusement clear in his voice.
“I’m a lightweight. Always have been.” I laughed, pulling out my phone again and trying to focus on the screen. I opened the text messages and started to type. Either my fingers were much fatter when I was drunk, or I was just a klutz who couldn’t get it together enough to type out a message.
I gave up and sat straighter, throwing my phone back in my bag.
“What’s your address?”
I leaned over, watching Will program the GPS with my home address. It would take about twenty minutes to get there, and I settled back down in the seat as he started the car and pulled out into the street.
“Thank you for tonight,” I said.
“It’s been so good to meet you. I hope we can do this again soon.” Ali spoke from the front seat.
“Hopefully when I’m not so miserable.”
“You’ve been through a lot. I think you’re allowed to be.”
The orange street lights flashed past us as we drove away, and I tried my best to focus on them. I’d had enough talking for one night.
Eventually, we pulled up outside my house, and I unclicked my seatbelt, pushing the door open.
“Want me to walk you to the door?” Will asked.
“I’ll be fine. It’s right there.”
“We’ll wait until you get inside,” he said.
I trudged up the driveway and to the front door, waving at them as I pushed it open.
“Holy shit.” I turned back just in time to see Connor’s tall frame right in front of me. “You scared the crap out of me.”
“Where were you?” Connor’s eyebrows knitted in concern as he stared me down.
“I went for a drink with Will from work. And his girlfriend.”
“Why didn’t you call me? Text me? I was worried sick.”
I slapped my palm against his chest. “I’m fine. I’m a big girl. Thank you for worrying, but I’m okay.” Walking past him, I headed for the bedroom.
“It’s not just tonight, Vanessa. I’m worried about you full stop. You won’t talk to me about what happened—you just want to hide and pretend you were never pregnant.”
I turned on him, anger fighting through my haze. “I just need time, Connor. Give me time.”
“I need to know how you’re feeling.”
“I’m not ready to talk about it. Just leave it.” I pulled my T-shirt over my head and unclipped my bra. Any other time, Connor would have made some bad joke and groped me. Now, he just stood there, a morose expression on his face, like the world was ending.
“Vanessa, we need to do something. I’ve never seen you like this before. You’ve never been a big drinker.”
“I had four drinks. I’m a little worse for wear because I had a long day at work. Now I want to go to sleep. That’s it.”
Reaching into my drawer, I pulled on my pyjama tank top and dropped my pants to the floor, replacing them with shorts.
“I’ll get you a glass of water,” Connor said.
“Stop fussing.”
I was being stubborn and I knew it, but I couldn’t talk about it anymore. If I lingered in my thoughts for too long, I’d break again, and there was no way I wanted that to happen.
Avoiding any more argument, I climbed into bed and pulled the blanket up. The bed dipped as Connor got in beside me, and although I ached for him to throw his arm over me and spoon, some part of me was relieved as I heard his breathing slow. He’d always been the one who could fall asleep in minutes while I lay looking at the ceiling.
Despite having had too much to drink, tonight would be no exception.
Chapter 3
Life got so hard.
Its grip around my throat tightened with every move I made. Connor, so loving and caring, pulled as much as I pushed him away. Not that I wanted to push away from him, but I needed space from the situation.
I drowned in my misery, needing to find a reason to keep going, but not wanting to stop. How could something so small turn your whole life upside-down?
I relived that day over and over again—the pain, the sudden bleeding, the knowing what was going on straight away. I couldn’t talk about it; I wouldn’t. I just needed to move on and away, so I threw myself into work.
I’d completed a sixty-hour week, and although I was exhausted, it wasn’t enough. I couldn’t work hard enough to get rid of the sadness that overwhelmed me constantly. This was my fourth week of it.
My face ached from the false smil
e I had to put on for my patients, and I arrived home to a brightly lit house which smelled of roast lamb.
“Hey.” Connor greeted me from the kitchen door as I walked in the living room and dumped my bag on the floor beside the couch. My feet were tired and sore; every bone in my body cried out for a soak in the bath and then sleep. I rented Ella’s house, and she’d had the good taste to have found a place with a spa bath. After a soak in a little Epsom salts, I’d sleep like a baby.
“Hey.” I leaned sideways until I rested my head on the arm of the couch and raised my feet to rest.
“I cooked your favourite. You arrived at exactly the right time.” Connor walked over to kiss my forehead, and I closed my eyes, even though I feared I’d never open them again.
I yawned. “I really just want to have a bath and go to bed.”
“I’ll go get the bath started.”
I grabbed his arm as he began to move away. “Don’t. I’ll do it.”
“It’s no bother.”
It was such a stupid little thing, but irritation rose in me. My temper, on a knife’s edge for weeks, finally got the better of me. “Just leave it, Connor. I’ll get some food and do it myself.”
“But it …”
“Leave it,” I snapped, glaring at him. I couldn’t even bring myself to tell him that I wanted those moments sitting beside the bathtub, the water filling it as I sat on the edge and ran my hand through it. I wanted the privacy of shutting the door and locking it, having just a little time by myself.
I’d put up a barrier between us that I didn’t know how to get rid of.
“Fine. I’ll go serve up dinner and bring you out a plate.” He walked away, and I was immediately filled with regret. The fire in my belly still burned over the resentment at him, seeming to bounce back, coping much better than I was. I wanted to bury myself away, never emerging again, but fought desperately for air.
Everything could have been so normal. Instead, I was suffocating.
We ate in silence. I felt Connor’s gaze on me, but never once met his eyes. If I did, I might have revealed how torn apart I still was, how much pain I still felt. Every day I saw people who suffered bad news, loss, heartache. I referred them to places where they could talk, have the counselling they needed.
I knew exactly what I needed to do, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Acknowledging what had happened would burn a hole in my heart too big to repair.
When I’d taken the last bite, I stood and took my plate to the kitchen. It was a pigsty, dishes everywhere. Connor wasn’t the tidiest cook, and as I placed the crockery on the kitchen counter, I took in the mess.
For a moment, I closed my eyes, stopping myself from calling out to Connor. This had always irritated me, but I’d let it ride knowing that he’d tidy up later on. Tonight, I had to swallow down the anger building in me again.
My frustration was made worse by my not knowing what I wanted from him. If I didn’t know that, how would he?
I needed to get in that bath and relax.
As I made my way through the living room I passed Connor. He had his feet up on the coffee table, still eating, and he’d turned the television on. At least whatever mindless crap was on would keep him entertained and out of my hair.
I grabbed a tank top and shorts for pyjamas, and fresh underwear from the bedroom, and locked myself away with the bathtub. Peace flowed through me as I started the water up and watched the tub fill. This was the moment I’d waited for—that little bit of indulgent time alone.
Pulling off my clothes and throwing them in the hamper, I stood beside the bath, running my fingers through the water, feeling the temperature and inhaling the steam.
I ran the water until it filled three-quarters of the tub and climbed up and into it, closing my eyes as I sat down.
The water soothed me. Now I was in a private place, where no one could see me, or judge me. I knew that losing the baby hadn’t been my fault, but every day thoughts ran through my mind of how I could have stopped it. How I could have done something better. My head filled with the dreams I’d grown to have of the family we were creating.
It had all stopped that night.
Thoughts of it possessed me. They never really went away. Always there, nagging at me, was the memory of the night I’d lost the baby. I’d never forget a single detail. The pain, the blood—it ran over and over again in my head as I tried to work out if I could have done something differently, if I could have stopped the whole thing.
Inevitably, as always, I’d come to the conclusion that there was nothing I could have done. Still, the guilt and pain consumed me until I didn’t know if I could cope anymore.
I’d never considered myself to have any maternal instincts until my niece and nephew had come along. Finn and Georgia had turned our whole family upside-down, and I adored them. They lived in a house on my parents’ farm with Ella and Matt, and I didn’t see them often enough. I missed them.
What I wouldn’t give now to hold them tight.
For the moment, I contented myself in the solitude of my bath, enjoying the heat and the quiet, all the while knowing that when I emerged I’d have to face Connor and my failure all over again.
I didn’t have much fight left in me.
When I went back to the living room, Connor had washed the dishes and was back in front of the television again. I wanted to sit on the couch and snuggle with him, but that might lead to intimacy I wasn’t ready for. He hadn’t touched me since that night, and I hadn’t wanted him to. We might lie beside each other in bed, but the gulf between us grew by the day. What I wouldn’t give to have that happy-go-lucky relationship back that we’d had not that long ago.
I turned away, heading for the bedroom. We’d been here four years, and I should have asked Ella for permission to redecorate long ago. The room was still nauseatingly cute, all pastel colours and flowers. We’d added our own touch with our bed linen and furniture, but this house still had her stamp on it. Renting from her had been easy, but at the same time, while the walls closed around me, the place screamed of belonging to someone else.
My head kept me going, working to a routine, but my heart was lost, part of it dying the same night the baby did.
I flopped onto the bed and sighed. Exhaustion overtook my body, but my mind kept turning over. Deep down, I knew I was a terrible person at times, lacking empathy, and about the last person who should ever have become a doctor. I could heal others, but not myself.
“Ness?”
Despite being tired and miserable, I sat up. Connor stood in the doorway, and where my heart might have raced in the past, all I saw was pain. As long as I associated that with him, how could we have any kind of healthy relationship?
“What?”
“Are you okay?”
I let out another sigh. “What do you think?”
He sat on the end of the bed. “That this isn’t working. You’re miserable, and I don’t know how to get the old you back.”
“You can’t.”
His eyes were full of sorrow, and I reached out for one last chance to make everything better. I leaned over and kissed him. Kissing Connor had always been like eating a chocolate-chip muffin straight out of the oven—warm, soft, sweet. It had been my favourite thing in the whole world once, but I hadn’t had his lips on mine, not like this, in so long.
“Vanessa,” he whispered.
I said nothing, accepting his kisses and kissing him back, our tongues dancing in a long overdue reunion. I loved Connor—there was no doubt about that. More than I’d loved anyone.
I leaned back on the bed and he joined me, pushing up my tank top. He rasped his tongue over one nipple, and I relaxed into his touch. Maybe this would help me bring the security I’d been longing for back into my life.
He slid my shorts down with my panties, planting kisses over my thighs. One thing that had never been lacking was our sex life; we’d always had this never-ending need for one another. The past month had killed that need, and my ho
pe that it could be rekindled grew with his hands on my legs, his gentle strokes waking something in me that had been sleeping.
Gripping the headboard, I thrust toward him as his tongue played on my clit. I wanted him, needed every little piece of him that he could possibly give.
In the brief moment that his body left mine as he reached into the bedside drawer for a condom, fear took over. I’d been on the pill when I fell pregnant before, possibly from my own carelessness. I wasn’t on the pill now, having come off it when I discovered I was pregnant and wanting my hormones to level out before screwing with them again.
What was the failure rate of condoms? Higher or lower than the pill? I racked my brain for the knowledge tucked away in my memory.
I couldn’t do this again, not so soon. What if I got pregnant again? What if I lost another child?
All I could see were problems, and all the emotion I’d been feeling ebbed away as the thoughts went round and round in my head.
Connor leaned over and kissed me, that warm kiss that left me melting. But as he slid into me, I closed my eyes, trying my best to push back the fears. It wasn’t enough. My heart raced out of control, sweat building up all over my body at the thought of what might come.
Pain.
Blood.
Heartache.
“Stop.”
He paused, and I opened my eyes to see his confused expression, his gaze sweeping over my face.
“I can’t do this.”
My sweet Connor pulled out of me, doing what I wanted without hesitation or question. “Vanessa?”
I rolled onto my side and pulled my knees to my chest. Connor lay beside me, placing a reassuring arm over my neck. At least, I guessed that was his intention, but it didn’t help at all. “This isn’t working.”
“It seemed to be. You wanted to be with me as much as I wanted to be with you. What happened?”
Pushing him off, I sat up, my knees still at my chest, and I rocked as I flicked glances at him. Was it possible to love someone so much you never wanted to see them again?
When you looked into their eyes and saw nothing but the bitter disappointment you were feeling too? That the reflection of your own emotions was just too much to deal with?
In a Heartbeat (Lifetime Book 2) Page 2