Heart of Us

by Emma Browne

  ‘I’m sorry.’ Now that there was a little distance between us, I felt able to breathe again.

  ‘Don’t apologise.’ Angus shook his head and took a further step back. ‘I misread the situation. Obviously.’

  ‘No, I’m…’ I ran my hand through my hair as I tried to think. ‘I don’t know. You’re a great guy and I’d like to see you again. It’s just I’m still feeling a little raw from a previous relationship, and…’

  ‘I understand. It’s totally fine.’ Angus held his hands up.

  I sighed. ‘I’m sorry. This is awkward.’

  He shook his head and flashed his dimples at me again. ‘Don’t worry about it. Oh, look, here’s your bus.’

  Relief flooded me as the bus pulled to a stop. ‘Well, thank you for tonight. I had a good time. I’ll see you tomorrow.’

  Finding a seat, I took a deep breath and wondered what had happened. Why did I panic? Why couldn’t I have just let him kiss me?

  How long was I going to keep being raw from being with Jack?

  Chapter 32

  Miranda

  Walking home from the bus stop, I saw somebody sitting on my front steps. I got my phone out in one hand and my keys in the other, and decided to walk past and pretend to be on the phone – just in case. But walking past my gate, I realised the person on my front step was Jack.

  He sat hunched over, his chin dipped into his coat and his hands in his pockets.

  I walked up to him and gave him a soft kick. ‘You awake?’

  He sat up straight. ‘Hey.’

  ‘What are you doing here?’ I asked, as I went to open the front door.

  He got to his feet. ‘Just wanted to make sure you got in alright,’ he said, looking away.

  I narrowed my eyes at him. ‘Sure. Well, I’m home now, so-’

  He stayed on the step as I walked in, waiting until I turned to look at him. ‘Why did you go out with what’s-his-face?’

  I wasn’t sure how he had found out about Angus, but I suspected Julia had told him. Avoiding his eyes, I took my coat and boots off. ‘I wanted to try dating again, and Angus is a nice guy-’

  ‘What?’ Jack took a deep breath, making steam against the cold night-time air as he blew it out slowly. ‘I’m a nice guy. Why would you date him and not me?’

  My hand went to my rub my eyes, forgetting I had make-up on. ‘Look, Jacky, I’ve already told you, we’re not getting back together-’

  ‘Uh-huh, and you told me that’s because you don’t want to get married and have kids. But if that’s true, what are you doing dating some-’

  Putting my hands on my hips, I turned to him and looked him in the eye. ‘Maybe I changed my mind about getting married. Maybe I don’t actually want to live alone for the rest of my life. Is that allowed? Also, you don’t get to be possessive of me anymore. That ended when you broke up with me. Six years ago.’

  ‘You’re right. You’re right. I’m sorry.’ He held a hand up. ‘Of course it’s allowed. I just don’t understand why you would pick someone like that over me. He’s clearly not the guy for you.’ He pulled his fingers through his hair. ‘What’s wrong with me?’

  I looked away. I didn’t want to have this conversation. Not now or ever. But I knew how persistent Jack was – he wouldn’t settle until he had all the details.

  Taking a deep breath, I opened the door wider. ‘You’d better come in if we’re going to have this conversation.’

  He stayed where he was, jaw squared as he looked at me. Then he seemed to make his mind up and gave a sharp nod as he entered the house, closing the door behind him and toeing his boots off. He sat down on the living room couch and raised his eyebrows at me.

  Unsure of the wisdom of what I was about to do, I hovered by the door. I wasn’t ready for this conversation. At all.

  ‘You want a drink?’

  ‘No, I want you to tell me what’s going on.’

  ‘Well, I need a drink,’ I said, and turned on my heel, leaving Jack where he was. I wished for alcohol for the first time in years as I waited for the kettle to boil. Camomile tea might be relaxing, but I doubted it would take the edge off the nerves I had.

  Returning to the living room, I set my tea down on the coffee table, still not sitting down. My stomach hurt as I avoided his watchful eyes.

  ‘Do you need the toilet now, or are you done procrastinating?’ he asked drily.

  ‘Do you want to hear this or not?’ My eyebrows lifted, but I sat down.

  ‘Sorry, yes.’ He looked away, taking a deep breath. ‘I do.’

  ‘I’m asking because once you know, you’ll never be able to un-know it, and it’s not a nice story.’

  ‘Gah…’ He dragged his hands through his hair again. ‘You’re driving me crazy, Miranda. Just tell me!’

  ‘Fine.’ I took a sip of my too hot tea and winced before setting it down on the table. Looking at him, I decided there was no good way of saying this. ‘I didn’t know it at the time, but I was pregnant when you moved to Hong Kong and broke up with me.’

  His eyebrows drew together, and he tilted his head toward me as though sure he had misheard. ‘What?’

  ‘I was pretty broken up after you left, and then you broke up with me and I felt sick all the time. I thought it was because I wasn’t eating properly, or because I was sad about us and anxious about Mum being sick. But after a few weeks, Mum suggested I take a test, so I did.’ I held my hands out. ‘It was positive.’

  Jack sat frozen in his seat, staring at me. Not sure if he was listening, I kept going, ‘Part of me was thrilled. I had your baby growing in me, you know? The other part of me was terrified because Mum was dying, Dad was lost in a bottle, you had broken up with me and gone to Hong Kong, and there I was, pregnant. I never wanted you to feel manipulated to be with me, but I had a feeling you’d come home if I told you.’

  I paused, and he said nothing. Seeing the confusion written all over him, I looked him in the eye. ‘I went to see a midwife. Mum went with me to get a scan, and we saw the baby. I have pictures. I’m not making all this up.’

  ‘Uh-’

  ‘They said I’d have to come back four weeks later for another scan, as I was only nine weeks along. I went and bought yarn, and Mum and I started knitting little clothes for the baby.’ My hands were shaking, so I set the teacup down and wiped my hands down my jeans. ‘I knew I had to tell you, and I was trying to work up the nerve. I tried writing, but the words wouldn’t come.’ I remembered the feeling of seeing my baby on the monitor and knowing I was going to be a mum. And the fear that came along with it. ‘A few days after the ultrasound, I was at work when I started cramping and bleeding. By the time I got to the hospital, there was nothing they could do.’

  My hands went to my cheeks and came away wet. I might have been terrified of what it would mean to have a child, but I had loved that baby. ‘I was devastated to lose the baby.’

  Out of words, I leaned back in my seat, eyes still leaking, and waited for Jack to respond in some way.

  Just as I was about to give up on getting any response, Jack cleared his throat. ‘Did you tell anyone?’

  ‘Just Mum.’ I wiped my face with the sleeve of my cardigan, not caring that the mascara was smearing. ‘I was taking care of her, and you had just broken up with me, so I had an excuse when I wasn’t feeling up to going out and doing things. I didn’t think it was right to tell other people when you didn’t know. And I didn’t want to tell you because…’ I sighed. ‘Do you remember that time when we talked about truth over a Sunday lunch? Someone had asked about whether we’d rather live a sweet lie or a harsh truth? You said then that you thought unnecessary truths were just hurtful, and you would rather not know. And it’s not like you could have changed anything by knowing. That’s why I figured it was better not to tell you.’

  He cleared his throat again, but I kept going. ‘A few months later, Mum died, and I got your very polite email of condolence. It seemed clear to me then that you had moved on, and I knew I’d
done the right thing not to tell you.’ Shrugging, I looked him in the eye again. ‘But that was the crappiest year of my life, and I’m not ever going to put myself in a position where I might have to go through any of it again.’

  I sipped my drink, leaning back against the couch as I waited for Jack to take it all in and respond to me. It felt good to have told him. I felt unburdened – free even. I had carried the pain alone since Mum had died, and now there was another living person who knew.

  Still, I knew all this wouldn’t be easy for him to process, and I felt a sting of doubt over whether telling him had been the right thing to do.

  My tea was almost gone by the time Jack rubbed his face and looked at me, his whole being radiating sadness and hopelessness. ‘I don’t know how to process this.’

  I nodded, wishing there was something – anything – I could do to take away the pain I saw on his face.

  ‘We made a baby?’ It was like he couldn’t quite believe what he had heard.

  ‘Yeah.’ I remembered feeling as shocked as he looked. ‘It was a surprise to me, too.’ I hoped he believed that it hadn’t been an elaborate plan to make him stay with me.

  ‘We made a baby.’ Confusion gave way to wonder.

  ‘Yeah.’ I had been so worried over his reaction to hearing about the pregnancy but seeing the wonder on his face almost brought tears to my eyes in relief. The thought of having a baby with Jack had been such a positive thing for me, and it would have been devastating for him to be sad or angry about it. ‘Wait here,’ I said, and went to get the three ultrasound pictures I had.

  ‘Here. These are the pictures.’ I sat down next to him and put the pictures on the coffee table. ‘The baby was only nine weeks old, and only about the size of an olive or a grape. But you can make out the head, and on this picture, you can see its little legs.’

  Jack leaned forward to look for himself.

  ‘I can take a picture of them for you. That way you can look whenever you want.’ I didn’t want to give him the pictures themselves – they were all I had left of the little life we had made together.

  He got his phone out, passing it to me, and I turned on another light so the picture would come out better on his phone. When I had taken a couple of pictures, I gave him his phone back and glanced at him.

  ‘Are you okay?’ I asked.

  Rubbing his face, he sat back in the couch. ‘I don’t know.’ He shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’

  I took a deep breath and shrugged. ‘Well, now you know.’

  He nodded and it looked like he wondered whether he would ever recover. ‘Now I know.’ His face twisted in pain.

  ‘I’m sorry,’ I blurted, not sure what to say or do to ease the hurt he was feeling.

  He closed his eyes, and when he spoke again, it was more like a whisper. ‘Me too.’ Then he looked at me, his eyes swirling with emotions ranging from grief to disappointment and betrayal.

  Though I had known our relationship was doomed for years, watching him leave that night felt like having my heart ripped out of my chest.

  Chapter 33

  Jack

  I left Miranda’s house and spent the next few hours walking blindly around Edinburgh. It was below freezing out, but I didn’t feel the cold. I was plenty wrapped up in my thoughts and in the sense of betrayal and grief I felt.

  I had known there was more to Miranda’s story about not wanting to be more than friends with me, but I would never have guessed she had kept this kind of secret from me.

  For six years.

  I ended up on a bench in Figgate Park and sat there, lost in my thoughts in the darkness, until I was tired enough to go home and go to bed.

  The next morning, I called in sick to work and rang Michael. He was able to get out of work, so we went camping. We stayed in a pod by Loch Tay and spent the days in the mountains.

  The trees by the campsite – which were full of life during the rest of the year – were bare now and, as we got higher up, there was snow scattered across the hills. The sparse landscape and stony hills which had stood there for thousands of years were a contrast to Edinburgh, where it was easy to get swallowed up in the busyness. Here, the only activity necessary was to breathe.

  After doing a shorter walk on the Friday, we spent the Saturday walking up Ben Chonzie. We had done that before, albeit in better weather, so we knew where we were going. The cold air stung as it blew in our faces, and for the last few hundred meters there was snow.

  We were mostly silent, and I was thankful Michael wasn’t the kind of person I needed to make small talk with.

  It was already dark by the time we got back to the pod, so we made a fire and spent the evening having sausages and beer and trying to warm up. I was about to call it a night, but I saw Michael looking at me as though he was deciding whether to leave me to stew or ask what was going on. It didn’t take long before I found myself talking. Out spilled the whole story, and Michael listened without saying much. I showed him the picture of the ultrasound, and, though he hadn’t known about the baby, he didn’t seem surprised.

  ‘That’s a lot to take in. How are you doing?’

  ‘I don’t know. I keep wondering how she could keep something like this from me. For six years! Did she not think I deserved to know that we were going to have a baby together?’ I blew out a deep sigh. ‘I don’t see how I could ever trust her again. You know?’

  Michael sipped his beer. ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘I thought we were moving in the right direction. She was warming up to me again, and I know we had something precious, but then she drops this bomb and all I can think is that I can’t trust her.’ I looked away. ‘But maybe what hurts most is that even after spending the last six years trying to become a better person, that isn’t good enough.’

  ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘I’ve always known Miranda deserves better than me, and when I left for Hong Kong all those years ago, I left because I couldn’t be who she deserved. She deserved to have somebody stable that she could trust to be there for her when she was going through the worst time of her life. I just couldn’t handle it. So I left.’

  Michael frowned. ‘Go on…’

  ‘When I got to Hong Kong and realised that I had chosen Hong Kong instead of her, I wondered if that was because I didn’t love her enough.’

  ‘Did you?’

  ‘I loved her more than I could express. I just wasn’t able to face all the feelings of powerlessness over everything she was going through.’ I shook my head. ‘I started going to counselling, and I spent the next six years working on becoming a better person.’

  Michael snorted. ‘Did it work?’

  ‘Yes!’ I glared at him.

  He laughed. ‘Great!’

  ‘Yeah. It was great. I’m a good person now.’ I frowned. ‘But Miranda doesn’t seem to care how much I’ve changed. All she can remember is how I’m the person who deserted her when she needed me most.’

  Michael sipped his drink and stared into the fire.

  ‘And because of that, she decided it was best not to tell me about our baby.’

  Michael shrugged. ‘Maybe she thought she was doing you a favour.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’ As frustrating as it was, I could see that her intention had been to protect me. ‘It’s a favour I didn’t ask for, though.’

  ‘Perhaps it was a bit high handed, but don’t you think she kept her secret from you because she cares about you?’

  ‘Maybe.’ The cold was getting to me, so I picked out another log from our little pile, put it on the fire, and watched as the flames started licking it. ‘It still hurts, though.’

  ‘What hurts?’

  ‘It hurts that we lost the baby. And that she didn’t tell me about it back then. And that she kept it all secret from me for over six years. And that – no matter how much I’ve changed – Miranda will never see me as anything more than untrustworthy and unstable.’ I slumped. ‘And now every time I think of her, I feel hopeless.’

&n
bsp; ‘Uh-huh.’

  ‘Like I spent six years trying to become somebody that was worthy of her, and then I find out that not only will she never think of me as anything other than who I was, but she is also a liar.’

  ‘Liar? Don’t you think that’s taking it a little far?’

  I shrugged. ‘To lie by omission is still to lie.’

  Michael winced. ‘Look, I can see that you’re angry and hurt, and that’s allowed. But I think you’ll end up lonely and depressed if you’re going to react like this to everyone who omits to tell you anything.’

  ‘Anything? This isn’t anything. This is omitting to tell me that I was going to be a dad.’

  ‘Yeah, I hear you.’ Michael sighed. ‘Still, you have some pretty high expectations of Miranda.’

  ‘I don’t think it’s too much to expect honesty.’

  Michael set his drink down and leaned his elbows on his knees, pinning his eyes on me. ‘Do you know what I think? I think it’s great you went to counselling.’

  ‘Yeah?’

  ‘Yeah.’ Michael nodded. ‘You probably learned things about yourself and about how to handle life in a healthier way.’

  ‘Right.’

  ‘So, you might have grown and learned and matured, and that’s all great, but you didn’t become a good person by going to counselling. You’re still the same Jack. You’re a person that will make mistakes and mess your life up in all kinds of ways. If you rely on you being such a good person, then I reckon you’re in for some disappointment.’

  I frowned. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because nobody is that good.’ He smiled. ‘Not you and not anyone else. People make mistakes.’

  ‘Uh-huh.’

  We both stared into the fire for what felt like a long time, before Michael set his bottle on the ground and leaned forward, placing his elbows on his knees. ‘Did she say why she didn’t tell you?’

  ‘She said something about how there was nothing I’d be able to do about it, anyway.’

  Michael frowned. ‘That doesn’t sound like the whole truth.’