Reunited by Their Pregnancy Surprise

by Louisa Heaton

  ‘Sam, that was before I knew that you didn’t remember. Before I knew that we would get each other back…’

  ‘But you wrote it knowing you were pregnant? Knowing that you’d be walking out on us and leaving our child without its father?’

  She heard the hurt, the accusation in his voice. ‘Yes, I did. But—’

  ‘You know how much I want to be a father, and how much it scares me, terrifies me, that I might lose a child—and yet you were willing to walk away from me with our baby?’

  Emily hurried to his side, laid a hand upon his arm. ‘I didn’t know that then. All I knew was that you didn’t want children! I thought that when I told you in the hospital you would go crazy! Maybe even ask me to get rid of it! I didn’t know about Serena!’

  ‘You were going to take my child from me…’

  ‘Sam, that’s not fair—’

  But he wasn’t listening. He dropped the letter and it fluttered to the floor as he stormed from their bedroom and began to run down the stairs.

  Emily chased after him and stood at the balustrade, shouting after his disappearing form. ‘Where are you going?’

  ‘I’m getting out of here! I need to think!’

  She heard the front door slam, the sound echoing through the house, and she stood there, her hands gripping the railings, knuckles gleaming white through her skin, and all she could hear was the sound of the shower running before a car roared into life and she heard the stones sizzle and spit as it roared away down the drive.

  She sucked in a big breath and stared into nothing.

  What have I done?

  Was Sam going to come back? Should he even be driving? He might have an accident. He might get hurt. He…

  Emily sank to the floor and rested her head against the stair rail, feeling numb and broken. Her gaze was fixed on the open door.

  *

  He just needed some space. Some air to breathe—air that didn’t have Emily in it, complicating matters.

  Sam didn’t even realise the direction he was travelling. He just drove. Blindly and furiously. His mind going over and over her letter. What it meant. How bad his relationship—his marriage—had been.

  He never would have imagined he could let it get so bad that his wife would have felt that way. She said I was killing her… He swallowed, his throat tight and painful. He shook his head, disbelief filling him. He’d made her feel that bad? That was awful. He didn’t deserve a woman like that. He didn’t deserve all the effort she’d put into him. All the love. Her care. Her attention. That he’d done that to her! Made her feel as if she was the last person on earth he’d want to have a baby with…

  The baby…

  Furiously he wiped at his eyes, desperate to wipe away the stinging sensation burning them. He didn’t deserve a child, either.

  And suddenly he was at his mom’s place. On her driveway. He couldn’t remember the journey at all, and as he sat there, blinking, staring at the familiar building where he had spent his childhood, he tried to recall the drive, hoping he hadn’t gone through any red lights.

  He’d made it here safely, anyway. That was one thing.

  But it was strange to be here. He hadn’t come back home for over a year. More, he figured, since he’d been married for eighteen months. He’d spoken to his parents on the phone, of course—they’d not been complete strangers—but it had been infrequent and rare. And now he could feel the weight of that guilt upon his shoulders.

  Was his mom even in?

  His question was answered when she opened the door and peered out to see who had arrived.

  She looked the same. A little greyer, maybe, but not much. She still had on those slippers he remembered so well, with the sheepskin inlay. Still seemed to favour those ‘mom jeans’, with the high elasticated waist, and tucked into them was one of the simple, stripy tee shirts that had always seemed a staple item of her wardrobe.

  He stepped out of the vehicle. ‘Hi, Mom.’

  ‘Samuel!’

  She walked over to him, her arms outstretched, and pulled him into a hug that was as familiar, as comforting, and as painfully heart-warming as he’d remembered them to be.

  ‘Let me look at you! Oh, you look so handsome.’

  She smiled as she looked him over, but then, as she gazed carefully at his face, she must have seen, must have sensed something that concerned her.

  ‘What’s wrong?’

  ‘Why does something have to be wrong?’

  ‘Because you’re home, Samuel, and you swore you would never come back here. Something made you come back. Don’t get me wrong—I’m glad. But what is it?’

  He hated it that she was so astute. He hated it that he had come here. To this place. To the house that had once held his most painful memory and the people who populated it.

  It didn’t hold his most painful memory now. Not any more. He had a new pain.

  ‘I just needed to see you, that’s all.’

  She looked at him sideways, not quite believing him but willing to put it aside for a moment. ‘Well, come on in. I’ll get you a drink.’

  He followed her into the house, sucking in a deep breath before he went through the front door.

  It was like stepping back in time. The place looked exactly the same. The same furniture, the same paper on the walls, the same lamps, the same throw rug over the back of the couch. There was even that same old aroma of just-made coffee and freshly baked cookies.

  She settled him into a seat and bustled away into the kitchen, making them both coffee and then sitting down with him in the living room.

  ‘How are you feeling after the accident?’

  He nodded. ‘I’m good.’

  ‘I did visit you. Can you remember?’

  ‘Yeah.’

  Of course he remembered. He remembered everything now. All of it. Every hurtful moment.

  I can’t believe I cut Emily off like that! I walked away from her when all she needed was an answer from me! I was so angry! So afraid.

  He swallowed hard. ‘Do you ever talk about her?’

  ‘Emily?’ His mom looked confused.

  ‘Serena.’ He hated having to ask, but he needed to. They’d never mentioned it in this house after she’d died. It was like the elephant in the room.

  His mother reached for the necklace at her throat and looked back at him. ‘Why do you ask?’

  ‘I wonder about it. We never spoke about her. Not after.’

  ‘Not in the house, no. We chose not to discuss it. You children got so upset.’

  ‘Not in the house? So you did speak about her?’

  ‘Of course! She was my baby. For a brief time there I thought I might die too, but my pastor helped to get me through.’

  ‘I didn’t know you were religious.’

  ‘I’m not. But he met me one day in the supermarket. After the funeral. We began to talk about her and…well, we met every week after that.’

  He stared at his mother. ‘Every week?’

  She nodded. ‘I had to. If I’d kept it inside me, then who knows how I might have ended up.’

  He was dumbstruck. All this time! All this time he’d thought it was a forbidden conversation, that no one dared speak her name. And yet all this time his mother had been talking her way through her grief. He was glad. Glad she’d had an outlet. But there was still a question on his mind that haunted him. A question he needed the answer to.

  ‘Did you ever blame me?’

  ‘You? Samuel, no! Of course not! Why would we? You were a child…you were still in school. It wasn’t your fault. It was…’ She leaned forward and reached out to lay her hand on his. ‘What’s going on?’

  ‘I’ve ruined my marriage.’

  She didn’t gasp, didn’t look shocked—just sat there calmly. ‘How?’

  ‘Because of what happened I was afraid to… Emily wanted a baby… No. That’s wrong. She wanted to talk to me about having a baby and I wouldn’t let her.’

  ‘Oh, Samuel…’

&
nbsp; ‘It never occurred to me that as I denied her a family I was hurting her. I just thought I was protecting myself. I was selfish. The way I treated her…it made her feel as if she were nothing. We kept arguing and I stayed away from home. Stayed away from Em. She was getting ready to leave me when the accident happened.’

  His mother sucked in a deep breath. ‘I knew she was tense when I saw her in the hospital. I thought she was just worried about you. I never knew any of that was going on.’

  ‘She found out after the accident that she was pregnant. Of course I was in shock. I’d just learnt I’d lost nearly two years of my life and now I was going to be a father? I tried to act pleased. Tried to hide it. The fear, the guilt, eating me away inside.’

  He paused.

  ‘We went to Paris to get my memories back. Instead we got close. Closer than we’d ever been before. It was amazing. We shared things. I told her about Serena. She understood where I was coming from. And I finally, finally felt like everything was right between us. And then I discovered today, when we got back, that she was going to leave me. Knowing she was pregnant. She was going to walk away. Because of me. Because of how I was with her. I hurt her, Mom. Emotionally. I don’t deserve to be with her. With our child…’

  She gave him a sympathetic smile. ‘I’m going to be a grandmother?’

  He nodded. ‘Congratulations.’

  But he wasn’t smiling.

  ‘I don’t know what to do. I got my memories back. All of them. I saw what I did. What I said. Quite frankly, I’m amazed she stuck around at all.’

  ‘Oh, Samuel, it sounds like she was trying to protect you.’

  ‘Trying to protect herself, more like.’

  ‘I think you’re being harsh.’

  ‘I’m not. What if we’ve always been doomed? We couldn’t tell each other basic facts about each other—even after we were married! I had to wait eighteen months before she told me about her childhood, and then I found out that she’d withheld a basic truth from me after we’d promised not to keep anything from each other ever again. We weren’t just having the odd argument—we’d been drifting apart for months! We were on the verge of separating.’

  He shook his head, still unable to believe how bad things had been.

  ‘I let Paris and our hopes for the trip carry me away. The place wove some sort of magic spell because it had been our honeymoon destination, the city of romance…all of that.’

  ‘Does she still want to leave you now?’

  ‘Probably. After how Dad was I vowed to myself that I would be the best husband there ever could be. I would work hard, but I would be around. I’d be home. I’d support my wife, we’d have this great love, this mutual respect—and it turns out I was a huge disappointment. Some of the things I did…said…I was cruel.’

  The more he thought about his actions, the more he hated himself. He’d become everything his dad was. Apart from the drinking part. He’d been useless! Distant. Unsupportive. Argumentative. And had he shared with her? No.

  He’d let them all down—Emily, Serena, his mom. Himself.

  Nobody could be more angry than he felt right now.

  His marriage was in tatters.

  His mom let out a heavy sigh and reached forward to take both his hands in his. ‘Samuel? You deserve to be with Emily. She has fought for you! You can’t let her down. Not now. Not now you’re going to be a father. This isn’t just about you any more.’

  ‘Yeah, but—’

  ‘Do you love her?’

  He stared at her, saw the intensity in her eyes. ‘Of course!’

  ‘Then why are you still here with me?’

  *

  Rosie came up the stairs carrying coffee and fresh slices of cake and found Emily sitting on the stairwell.

  ‘Mrs Saint?’

  Emily looked up at her with tear-filled eyes.

  ‘Are you okay?’ Rosie put down the small tray and hurried over to her employer.

  ‘I think it’s all over, Rosie.’

  ‘How? You were just saying earlier how good everything was.’

  ‘He found this.’ She pulled the letter from her pocket and passed it over, cringing inwardly as she imagined Rosie’s thoughts as she read it. Would Rosie judge her, too?

  ‘Oh…’

  ‘I screwed up. I should have thrown it away. But I forgot it was there. I was just so excited. Sam seemed happy about the baby, we were going on a trip, and I…’ She let out a heavy sigh. ‘Just as everything was working out right between us. After all those difficulties…you know what I mean. You must have seen. Heard.’

  ‘It was hard not to hear sometimes,’ Rosie replied with sadness.

  ‘I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have had to hear it at all. We should have sorted it. Been open with each other right from the beginning. We could have avoided this.’

  ‘Mrs Saint, I don’t understand everything that’s happened, but there is one thing I do know. You and Mr Saint may have had your difficulties, but I have always said that you two were meant for each other. It’s not my place to suggest anything, but please don’t give up on him. He’s a kind man. A good man. This is bound to have shocked him. It would have shocked anyone. Give him time to reflect. Sort things out.’

  Emily took back the letter. ‘You’re very kind, Rosie, but this is what happens to me. People walk away and leave.’

  ‘You think he’s going to walk away?’

  ‘I’m used to it, after my mother…I should have expected it.’

  ‘I’m sure he’ll come back.’

  Emily looked at her sharply and Rosie quickly stood. ‘I’ve spoken out of turn. I’m sorry. I’ll leave you on your own. Call me if you need anything—I’ll just be downstairs.’

  Rosie hurried away and Emily instantly regretted the sharpness of her gaze. But she hadn’t been able to help it. Her first thoughts had run to the fact that he was abandoning her a second time. Her mother had done it once, her husband twice. Was she going to let him do it a third time? A fourth?

  It was time to draw a line in the sand.

  This wasn’t just about her any more. A baby was involved. She’d always vowed that when she had a child of her own it would know love from both its parents. It would grow up in a warm, loving home and would never feel the sting of rejection—certainly not before it was even born!

  She was failing her child already.

  CHAPTER TEN

  ‘OKAY, SAM. I’M very happy with your progress. You may officially return to work.’

  His doctor had given him the good news, expecting Sam to smile.

  He hadn’t.

  He wasn’t in a smiling mood.

  Sam had spent the last few nights sleeping in his old bedroom at his mother’s house, squeezing himself onto a bed that was too small and staring at the ceiling for half of the night. As each morning approached he would resign himself to the fact that he wouldn’t get any sleep and then somehow he would, falling into a deep sleep literally an hour or so before he was due to wake up. Then his alarm would blare into his brain and he would jerk awake, bleary-eyed and instantly sad.

  He’d not spoken to Emily. He didn’t know what to say. How could he go back there? Could he ever say he was sorry enough times? He didn’t deserve to be happy with her any more. Surely he’d given up all his chances?

  His mother had tried to argue for Emily’s side, saying that she must have done what she had to protect him.

  Was that true? He tried to imagine himself in her place. Her situation. If it had been Emily in the coma with a brain injury, not him, would he have done the same thing?

  Perhaps.

  But there was a new equation in all this. The baby. All his life he’d pushed the idea of being a father away. It had been too scary a concept, too terrible even to imagine how that would feel. And because he’d been so busy pushing the idea away, refusing to accept it, he’d never taken a moment to think about whether he really wanted to be a dad.

  Hadn’t he sworn that he would never be
like his own father? So he must have thought about it a little, right? Perhaps it hadn’t all been about his guilt over what had happened to Serena? Perhaps his fear had come more from being given the opportunity to have what he wanted most in the world, but then failing miserably? Had it had been easier to lose his temper with Emily and refuse even to talk about having a child than to face up to the possibility that he might fail?

  As he drove along the freeway, heading to work, he pondered this. Had it ever really been about Emily? About Serena? Or had it always been about him? He was a driven man. He’d provided for his siblings, looked after them, had sent himself to medical school, specialised, set up a thriving business… He’d been successful at everything he’d put his mind to except for what had happened to Serena. He’d failed his sister, and the weight and pain of that failure haunted him. Was it that same fear of failure that was driving him now? Having a baby with his wife meant an uncertain future. He couldn’t possibly know if he would get it right. Was that why he’d fought against it for so long?

  His memories had proved to him that he’d got his marriage wrong once already—did that mean he would continue to get things wrong?

  The painful ache in his heart was almost unbearable.

  He indicated and pulled over, breathing deeply, his brain trying to sort through all the memories, putting them in order. He saw them all. The bad. The good. And he remembered their arguments—saw how he had behaved. The words that he’d said. The numerous ways that he had tried to protect himself. He’d not been thinking about Emily! He’d known he was hurting her, had seen how much she wanted a child, but he’d been so concerned about his own vulnerability that he had pushed it back on to her.

  He felt sick. Nauseated. He saw over and over again how Emily had kept trying. Trying to talk to him. Trying to find a time that was good for him. Trying to understand why he kept saying no without getting a decent answer from him. He saw how she had begun to retreat from him, hurting and in pain, but how she had still tried. The times he’d come home late and found a table set for two with candles and flowers. The times he’d found her asleep on the couch because she’d been trying to wait up for him.

  She fought for us. Despite what I did, she fought for us.