by Sue MacKay
‘Have you redecorated, as you’d planned?’
As they’d planned. ‘It’s had a total refit, including a new state-of-the-art kitchen that I hardly get to use. Actually, I don’t use the place much at all.’
‘You spend all your time at work?’ He sipped his beer.
Those lips that could do wild things to her skin fascinated her. Soft, firm, delicious, sensual. A shiver of pleasure tripped through her. Then the smile that had been hovering on her mouth slipped a little. He’d asked her something about work, hadn’t he? ‘Work? Time?’ She shook her head. ‘The clinic keeps me busy, plus I’m on the roster at the cardiac unit at Auckland Hospital.’
Ben sucked in a breath. ‘Does working all the time make us a little crazy?’
She shrugged. ‘I don’t think about it.’ Hadn’t until today anyway. ‘Though occasionally when I hear the staff talking about what they did over the weekend or the show they saw one night I wonder if I should try and get a life outside my career. But where to start? What to do? Seems too complicated.’
‘What happened to Diane and Lynley?’
Her girlfriends from way back. ‘They’re both still in Auckland and about once a month they drag me out to a restaurant for a fabulous meal, or make me join them for a spa weekend.’ And nag at me for not dating and for working too hard and living a half life. ‘Tell me about living in London. That seems so exciting.’ And will divert you from asking about me.
‘Sometimes I’ve had to pinch myself to believe I actually live there amongst all the historical buildings and places I’d read about growing up. Then on other days when work’s frantic and I hardly see more of my apartment than the bedroom and bathroom I think it’s no different to living in Auckland or Sydney.’ Ben turned his glass back and forth between his fingers. ‘But I’ve learned to take regular breaks away. That’s when I go explore different parts of Britain.’
Regular breaks. ‘We were working hideous hours.’ Longer even than what she did nowadays.
‘I can’t blame that for what happened, Tori. I stuffed up in that operation and a woman died because I thought I knew better than anyone else how to do that procedure. There is no other way of looking at it.’ He was watching her intently. Looking for what?
Surprised that he was even talking about that day, she didn’t look away, instead watched him back. ‘Operations go wrong. It’s a fact of life and why patients sign a declaration before surgery.’
‘That doesn’t let me off the hook.’ Ben didn’t sound bitter at all. More like resigned.
‘Have you forgiven yourself?’
‘No.’ He gulped at his beer. ‘But I have accepted that I made that error through my own ego. I wanted the kudos that would’ve gone with success.’
He’d have wanted his father’s praise more than anything.
‘I don’t have much contact with my father any more.’
Had he read her mind? Tori reached across and took his free hand in both hers, her thumbs rubbing softly back and forth across his warm skin. ‘That’s sad.’
‘Yes and no. It was like a huge weight coming off my shoulders when I realised how often I’d done things to make him proud, only to be given an offhand nod and told to do better with the next project. I should’ve wised up and done something about that a long time before. Pathetic to be in my thirties and still trying to please my parents.’
‘If only I’d known what had really happened right from the outset.’ He hadn’t told her, had refused point-blank whenever she’d asked, so that eventually they’d stopped talking completely, drawing apart increment by increment, so that their marriage had felt empty. ‘Why didn’t you tell me the whole story?’
Ben drained his glass, set it down with a bang. ‘I was too ashamed.’
Her heart rolled. Hurt glittered out at her. Ben ashamed? ‘Enough not to talk to me? When the whole hospital was talking, making up unknown facts?’
‘I thought you’d despise me. We were both so good at what we did, I didn’t want you to look down on me.’ He looked away, swallowed hard. Looked back. ‘Can you understand that?’
‘Not really, because I never would’ve felt like that.’ Was this why their marriage had failed? Because he’d believed she’d despise him for making a mistake? A terrible error, granted, but the point being it had been a mistake. ‘Not when I think of how our lives unravelled afterwards.’ Though their marriage had already been faltering before that.
He pulled his hand away. ‘I should’ve talked to you, explained everything that happened that day. But every time I tried to the words failed me. You were my other half, my rock, my love, and I’d screwed up big time. I couldn’t bear to think you’d be disgusted with me for a mistake that you’d never make.’
‘Hell, Ben, I’d never have thought that.’ It wouldn’t have occurred to her. He hadn’t known her as well as she’d thought if he believed that. ‘You know, I heard so much gossip that the plain truth from you would’ve been a hundred times better than what I was being slammed with every day.’
‘I know.’ He looked around for the waitress, then indicated another round.
She hadn’t drunk half her water yet, but chose not to point that out. It had taken a long time to have this conversation and now she didn’t know what to make of it. ‘You didn’t trust my love.’
His hands slapped the tabletop. ‘I was protecting myself, my heart. Not a good reason to stop talking to you, I know, but that’s how it was.’
‘Ben...’ Ben, what? She reached for her glass, drank deeply of the refreshing liquid. If only he’d talked to her, they could’ve faced this together, come up with a solution for their futures together. But he hadn’t, and there was no going back and rewriting their history. Marriage was about love, yes, but equally about sharing, and being up-front and talking.
Yeah, and you’re saying you didn’t give up trying to communicate with Ben? You drank to drown out your problems, instead of facing them together. And what about the important news you didn’t tell him? You were no better at communication.
‘What a mess we made of things.’ She drained her glass and reached for the new one.
‘Thanks for saying “we”, but—’
‘But nothing,’ she interrupted. ‘Maybe we weren’t ready to be married, weren’t as committed as we believed. If we had been we’d have got through those awful months. All couples face difficulties, have to deal with ghastly things, and most get through it—together. We didn’t. We screwed up, to use your phrase.’ Shoving the glass aside, Tori stood up. ‘I’m sorry but I’ve had enough.’
She headed for the street and walked along blindly, tears tracking down her face. Not once did she glance backwards to see if Ben had followed her. He was probably still sitting in the café, nursing his beer.
Tori turned corners willy-nilly until she was completely lost. Who cared? Not her. Even when her feet began to ache she continued trudging up and down the streets. The tears dried up, the ache in her throat lessened, but her heart remained as heavy as a bucket of concrete.
Damn you, Benji. I loved you. But we didn’t have what it takes to make a good, strong marriage. Which means we still don’t, so get out of my head, my heart, and let me get on with my life. Let me drop this silly notion that we might have a chance at getting back together.
But it was getting harder by the minute to keep Benji at arm’s length. Because she did want that second chance.
* * *
Ben watched Tori slow down and finally stop her crazy racing around the streets. She sat down at an outdoor table at a café she’d stumbled across. He knew she was lost. The woman had never had any sense of direction, which was why he’d followed her when she’d stormed off. Sure, a taxi would get her back to the hotel, no trouble, but she’d been upset and he’d wanted to keep an eye on her.
He approached the wa
iter hovering in the café entrance and ordered two coffees before crossing to join Tori. ‘You done yet?’ he asked.
Her head jerked upwards. ‘What are you doing here?’
Her eyes were red and her face swollen from crying. What had brought those tears on? They’d been talking about the sensitive stuff, sure, but he wouldn’t have thought any of it warranted a crying spell.
‘Making sure you were okay.’ When she didn’t send him away he pulled out a chair and dropped onto it. ‘But you’re not, are you?’
She looked away. Her finger began picking at a spot on the table. ‘I’m good.’
‘Tori, this is me you’re trying to convince. Try again.’
It seemed an age before she sighed and lifted her gaze to his. Guilt glittered out at him. ‘I’m so sorry, Ben.’
Apprehension had him sitting up a little straighter. What could Tori have done to produce that guilt?
Her eyes darkened and she looked away again. ‘That night you came back to pack up the last of your things?’ She came back to watching him.
He gave a sharp nod. ‘Go on.’
Silence stretched out between them. Tori’s hands were still, too still. Her teeth were biting her bottom lip so hard it was white. Then people at a nearby table started talking loudly and Tori said in a rush, ‘I was in hospital. I had a miscarriage.’
‘What?’ he roared. A miscarriage? Tori? He hadn’t known she was pregnant. That they were having a baby. She hadn’t told him. Anger began tightening his belly, hot and hard. This was the woman he’d put on a pedestal, had believed too honest for her own good sometimes. ‘You didn’t tell me.’
‘I wanted to.’
‘Your phone wasn’t working?’
She flinched. ‘I deserve that.’
He’d spent years regretting the fact he hadn’t told her exactly what had happened that day in Theatre, had felt guilty for keeping his shame under wraps. And all along Tori had been keeping quiet about something equally important. ‘If you hadn’t miscarried, would you have told me you were pregnant?’
‘Of course.’ She looked aghast.
‘There’s no “of course” about it. You didn’t tell me about the miscarriage or that you were pregnant.’
‘I didn’t know until I started bleeding and had stomach cramps the likes of which I’d never had before.’ The guilt in her eyes had been replaced with sorrow.
He had to steel his heart against reaching for her and soothing away her sadness. Despite the anger boiling in his gut, despite the sense of having been let down big time, he wanted to soothe her? Hell, man, what was his problem?
Their coffees arrived. Neither of them touched the steaming mugs.
Tori continued in that muted tone he hated. ‘My periods were always erratic, and at the time, with so much going on, I hadn’t noticed I hadn’t had one for months.’
‘Just how far along were you when you miscarried?’
‘About nine weeks, or so the doctors said.’
‘Were we having a boy or a girl?’ Why ask? It didn’t change a thing, only added to the hurt by making it more real.
‘Too soon to tell.’ Again her teeth bit down hard on her lip. It must’ve been hurting but she didn’t stop. Her eyelids were opening and shutting rapidly. Fighting tears? Fair enough. Tori would still grieve for her baby. She hadn’t changed that much.
Ben fought the urge to get up and run. Run hard and fast to pound away this feeling of hanging over a canyon. That Tori had been hiding something so important from him was unfathomable. His gut clenched tighter, sweat ran down his back. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You’d left me and I was reeling with the shock... No. Sorry. That’s an excuse. I didn’t want you coming back just because you felt like you had to help me through the aftermath of the miscarriage.’
She had a point. He would’ve insisted on staying with her until she was back on her feet. But, ‘I was entitled to be there for you. That was our baby, not just yours.’
The face she turned to him was grief-stricken. ‘You think I don’t realise that? That I don’t feel guilty about losing our baby? I was so ashamed I couldn’t bring myself to tell you.’
She held out her wrist, showing him the gold bracelet that she never took off. Her voice shook as she choked out, ‘I had this bracelet made in memory of our baby. Don’t think for a second that I haven’t thought about our baby every single day since it happened.’
‘I don’t know what to think any more. I’m still getting to grips with the fact you kept this secret in the first place.’ He had to get away, couldn’t sit here like a civilised man, trying to absorb what had gone down. His chair crashed over as he leapt to his feet. ‘Did I ever really know you, Tori?’
She gasped. Then reached for her coffee, slopped it everywhere before banging the cup back down. ‘I am so sorry, Ben. More than you can ever know.’
He was gone. Charging down the pavement heading for who knew where. Anywhere as long as it was away from Tori. He couldn’t bear to face her, to see her guilt and apology in those eyes that had always sucked him in. Because he did know about being sorry. Did know about not talking about the important things between them. He’d been carrying the same guilt for just as long.
To think he’d wanted to try again with her. Like that was going to happen now when neither of them could trust the other to be completely honest.
Toot, toot. Screech.
Hell. He’d stepped off the footpath onto the road, directly in front of a car. ‘Sorry, mate,’ he called at the cursing driver. ‘My fault entirely.’ Like the guy could understand him.
On the opposite side of the road was a bar. Ben changed direction slightly, aiming for the door and his first French hangover.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BEN’S HAND WAS on Tori’s elbow as he led the way through the jostling crowd and out of the Paris railway station to the taxi rank. She knew he’d feel her trembling. As long as he recognised that as excitement over being in this amazing city and not the desperation and guilt she hadn’t been able to overcome since her big revelation to him yesterday.
He’d surprised her by touching her. He hadn’t spoken more than was absolutely necessary on the long trip up from Nice, and had spent most of the day staring out the window or reading something on his tablet. It had been as though she’d been like all the other passengers—a stranger he’d had no interest in whatsoever.
Fair enough. She’d had it coming. But why Ben had insisted on joining her on the train and not flying to Paris, as he’d originally planned, was beyond her. Did it mean he might be thawing towards her? Or was she overreacting because the excitement of being in Paris was getting to her?
‘Paris.’ Tori breathed deep. Parisian air. She would not be daunted by Ben’s attitude, either way. ‘I want to squeal and dance up and down on the spot.’
He shook his head at her. ‘I bet you do.’
You’re a grown-up and grown-ups don’t do that.
Tori jumped up and down on the spot, squealing loudly, ‘I’m in Paris. Whoopee.’ Around her some people laughed and cheered, others pretended there wasn’t a mad woman let loose at Gare du Nord.
Ben watched her, his eyes hooded, his mouth flat.
She poked him. ‘No matter what I’ve done in the past I am not going to spend my time in Paris scowling.’ Like you.
His mouth twitched.
‘Go on. You can do it, and it won’t hurt, promise,’ she teased.
A smile slowly spread over his face, lifting his lips, lightening those eyes that had been dark and distressed all day. He shook his head at her. ‘This is only the railway station, one of many railway stations.’
‘It’s a Paris railway station. We don’t have those at home.’
His eyebrows rose as he nodded briefly. ‘I
can’t argue with your logic.’
‘I’ve dreamed of coming here since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Nothing can dampen the most amazing moment of my life.’ His smile slipped and she hastened to add, ‘Make that one of the most amazing moments.’ Even now, despite everything, her wedding day took the top award for that.
‘Let’s go and get checked in at the hotel so we can see more of your dream city.’ His fingers were back on her elbow as he turned her in the direction of an available taxi.
‘Bring it on.’ I’m in Paris with Ben. Definitely Ben today, not Benji. But she could pretend he was Benji and that they were a couple. Setting herself up for a fall?
The hotel had been arranged for them by Luc. One of the best, they’d been assured. Not that she usually went for top-notch hotels but, hey, this was Paris, and she was with Ben. Hopefully they’d get past their difficulties enough to enjoy the time they spent here together.
Sitting in the taxi, her head turned left, right, then to the front. She was afraid she’d miss something. ‘There’s so much to take in. Oh, my gosh, there’s the top of the Eiffel Tower.’ She could barely see it above a line of trees. Pinching herself, she gaped at the sight until it disappeared behind the beautiful old buildings lining the street they’d turned into.
Ben’s smile had disappeared but he did seem more relaxed than he had been. ‘You sure five days are going to be enough to see everything you want?’
‘Five weeks wouldn’t be enough. Look at you. You’re supposed to checking out the passing sights, not staring at me.’ It was as though he got more fun out of her reactions to the city than to the city itself. But, then, he’d been here before.
Pulling up outside the grandest hotel she’d been to, her sense of excitement only increased. The hotel was very close to the Seine and many of the attractions she planned on visiting. Strolling inside with Ben, Tori realised she hadn’t felt this happy for a long time, and knew it wasn’t all to do with being in this city.
At the reception desk her happiness evaporated instantly. ‘But there’s been some mistake,’ she gulped, staring at the swipe key for the same suite as Ben was using. She would not share with him. She might’ve agreed to spend time with him but she wasn’t ready to be twenty-four seven in his company. Though a part of her wanted to. To test the waters, so to speak.