With one last glance, she turned and walked away. Stepping outside, she was hit by the cool sea breeze and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. Her cheeks stung from the wind and her own salty tears that continued to fall softly down her face. Annabel wanted to look back at the restaurant but just carried on walking. She had no idea why Marcus had brought her out. He had even bought her roses! Was that so he could split up with her in a nicer way? It wasn’t fair. At least her kids at the hospital would never hurt her like he just had.
She should have known he would never change. Annabel had so wanted to have a second chance with the playboy. Now all her hopes and dreams had been for nothing. She felt sick and wanted the pain in her heart to go away—to never feel like this again for any man, love hurt too much.
She sat on a bench, the wind blowing around her. She felt lonely and totally useless. How could she ever compete? Marcus had what she so desperately wanted—a loving home, a spouse, and a child of her own. Annabel knew she was an idiot for thinking someone like him could ever love her. But she loved him so desperately. He had become her best friend, her lover, and so much more, but that was over now.
“Sweets, you need to listen. Please, hear me out.”
Annabel jumped at the sound of footsteps behind her, too caught up in her own grief to bother with what anyone else was doing.
“Marcus, leave me alone.”
“No, not till you know everything, and then if you want to walk away, you can, and I won’t try to stop you.” He sat beside her, turning Annabel’s face until she looked at him. Marcus gently brushed a tear away with his finger. “Please don’t cry, sweets.”
****
Okay, here goes nothing. He just had to wait for the fallout he was positive would come. He would tell Annabel the truth, even if it cost him everything. Before she walked into his life again, he had felt empty and alone. Annabel had given him a sense of purpose; she made him feel more alive than he ever had in the past few years.
“I was married. Everything seemed okay until Josie became pregnant. Then she changed totally when Emily was born.”
“I don’t—”
Marcus placed his finger on her lips to quieten her, desperate to keep talking, to get it all out, and tell her the truth of his soul. He knew that when he finished talking, it would be up to her whether she walked out of his life forever, so he pushed on, desperate to bind her to him. “One day, I came home from work and Josie had gone. A note said Emily was with a neighbor, and Josie wasn’t coming back.”
“But…”
Marcus kept talking ignoring her protests that she didn’t need or want to hear any of this.
“I received divorce papers pretty quickly after she had left. Then again, Josie was never one to wait for anything. She gave me full custody of Emily and declared that she didn’t want to see her daughter again.”
Marcus watched her intently; his unshed tears blurred his vision.
“How can anyone not want to see their child?”
“Emily was five when she became ill with meningitis, but the doctors couldn’t save her.” His voice cracked. “The doctors at Oakwood hospital couldn’t save her.”
“I try to keep all my kids safe, we all do. I never want them to die; sometimes, no matter how hard we try, we can’t save them.”
“I didn’t mean…” Marcus pulled her toward him, wrapping her up in his arms. “Anna, don’t cry, please. I don’t go to the house much because all Emily’s things lie just where she left them.”
Annabel had been such a fool—he was still grieving for his daughter.
“Does Josie know about her daughter?”
“No, I never told her; I’m not even sure where she is.”
Annabel felt even worse than she had earlier. Her hand instinctively held her stomach. How could he have faced all this alone? “Marcus, you need to find Josie and tell her. She has a right to know that her daughter has…” Even she couldn’t say the words.
Annabel suddenly felt very sick. It must have been that prawn pâté. “Is that why I have never been to your house?”
“Every time I open the door, I hear Emily’s laughter just for a minute, but then I remember she is no longer there.” Silent tears fell down Marcus’s face. “I don’t want to face the emptiness, so I don’t go there unless I have to. I wouldn’t take you to a place so full of sadness.” Marcus turned from her and looked out toward the sea. “Emily would light up any room she entered. She was so small and tiny for her age.” The words obviously caught in his throat. “You would have loved her. She loved to color and look at the old photographs I have. We could spend hours as I told her where they were all taken and who was in them.”
He felt Annabel’s arm over his shoulders. Marcus wasn’t sure what Annabel would do; he didn’t know what to do. Come on, you’re thirty-seven years old and should know what you’re doing.
****
Annabel took a deep breath. She had to stand firm. There was no way she could cave in now. She had to let Marcus go no matter how hard it was going to be. Unfortunately, it might not be the right thing to do. “Marcus, listen. Go and find Josie. Tell her about Emily. Maybe you can rekindle what you two had in the beginning,” she said sadly. “Only you can decide what you want to do. I just know I can’t do this anymore.” Anabel didn’t want to lose Marcus, but she also couldn’t stand in the way of two parents’ grief. Marcus was living his every day. Emily’s mum still had to discover the loss of her daughter, and that made her angry.
“Do what?” A look of confusion crossed Marcus’s face, but she wouldn’t let it deter her.
“I knew you were hiding something, but you cannot be so callous and not tell your ex-wife about Emily.” Annabel stood. “No matter how much you have come to dislike her, she has a right to know.”
“No, she doesn’t have any rights at all.”
Annabel leaned over and kissed Marcus on the cheek. “Goodbye,” she whispered.
She needed to get home. Her head was beginning to spin. She couldn’t fall ill, not when so many people were relying on her at work. Did food poisoning work so quickly? Doctors were always the worst at diagnosing themselves. She had often over-thought things before. At least this time, she had walked away from Marcus and not the other way around.
It took her nearly an hour to walk home. Annabel hadn’t any tears left. Maybe a holiday would do her good. After all the upheaval over the past few weeks, no one could blame her for needing some me-time.
One thing she was grateful for was Marcus didn’t know how much she loved him, how much she would always love him. Annabel couldn’t remember even telling him that she did love him—had she? Oh, she could second-guess herself all she wanted to, but it wouldn’t do anyone any good, not now. At least, she had been spared that humiliation. She had made a fool of herself with Marcus for the last time.
Annabel looked at her watch—nine o’clock. She needed Rachel to come round and tell her everything would be okay. She was in uncharted waters. She’d had casual dates but nothing serious. All her girlfriends thought she was daft with her plan to stay away from men for career advancement. Most of her friends had married or had long-term partners whilst she went to the same parties or functions alone.
****
Marcus sat on the bench looking into the space that had been Annabel a few moments ago. He thought of going after her. But what would be the point? She wasn’t bothered. Annabel was right about one thing, though. He would have to tell Josie about Emily. He didn’t want his ex-wife turning up and wondering where her daughter was. Marcus didn’t know where to start. He’d have to hire a detective to find her. Then it would be another conversation he didn’t want to have.
Marcus drove around all night. He hadn’t wanted to go back to the hotel and couldn’t go to the house. Seeing Annabel was totally out of the question. He felt useless and lost again. He needed Annabel. She had given him his spirit back, filled the empty space in his heart—the part that was just for him. No one else could have d
one that.
First things first. He would sort out the Josie problem, and then he would see if he could win Annabel back. Marcus was determined not to give up on his happiness. He could live again, be the person he wanted to be, not just the guy in a suit crunching numbers. He had made himself extremely rich doing so, but no amount of money would bring him the happiness he craved. Only Annabel could do that, and this time she was not going to get away from him.
Marcus drove up to the house, shaking his head as he got out of the car. The garden was so overgrown; it was bringing down the entire neighborhood. He would have to sort that out as well. How could he not have seen this before? So you’re going to see all this when you can’t be bothered to even come to your own house? Taking a huge breath, he opened the door. It was time to sort his life out. Tatty Christmas decorations still adorned most of the pictures and hung from the walls. The Christmas tree sat unloved in the corner of the living room; presents for them both sat huddled underneath. He looked closely at the piles of new toys. Attached to the base of the Christmas tree lay an envelope. Written in pink crayon were the words “To Santa.” He took it off the tree and placed it in his suit pocket. It was unusual for Emily to write a letter to Santa to get Christmas Eve.
Wishing he could turn back time wasn’t going to do any good. Marcus picked up one of Emily’s little doll dresses and held it lovingly in his hands. “I’m sorry, my darling. I need to put your toys away,” he said, choking back a sob. It was time to lay his ghosts to rest and move on. To what, he didn’t know.
Annabel had surprised him. She had been so callous, or she had all the appearance of it. After he had thought about it, he knew why she had done what she had. That was the old Annabel, never one to be pushy. She would make the decision, and if she felt it was best for everyone to walk away, so be it.
Marcus hoped that Emily would understand. He would just keep them in her room until he had the courage to give them to another little girl so she could have as much enjoyment out of them as his own beautiful girl had. Wandering into the kitchen, he grabbed a few boxes out of the larder. Then walking around the house, he put all Emily’s toys in the boxes.
Tears streamed down his face. “You’re stronger than this, Marcus.” He had never done anything this hard before. Marcus wished Annabel was there with him. She always said the right thing. Annabel seemed to be able to see right into his soul and know exactly what he was thinking. The stairs creaked as he walked slowly to the second floor, the noise echoing around the empty house.
“I used to love hearing you laugh. Do you remember playing hide and seek when it rained?” As he reached the last stair, he paused. Maybe he should just make a keepsake box and have a few of her things in it, “I bet you would have liked a time capsule.” Marcus knew what people would say if they heard him talking to himself, but it was bringing Emily closer to him.
Emily’s name plaque stared at him. His breath felt like stones in his lungs. His ribs still hurt, but it was his heart giving him the most pain. Marcus opened the door slowly. It, like everything else in this place, was falling apart through lack of use and the love these walls used to share. Now it was a hollow shell, a shadow of what had once been, just like he was.
Putting the boxes down on the bed, he took one last look around his daughter’s room, then sat on her bed, and took out the letter to Santa Claus. He opened it carefully. “Your writing has got neater.”
Dear Santa, could I please have this, love Emily. It was a picture of a family and a house.
“Oh, Emily.” She had drawn him and her with a mum and a little sister as well. So that is what she wanted, a family, and she was asking Santa to give it to her.
“You would have loved my Anna,” he whispered as he placed the picture back in his pocket. Perhaps he could show Annabel. Then he remembered that she had just walked away from him. “I know I should have told her about you. But I was scared that Annabel wouldn’t understand,” Marcus said out loud. “Emily, what can I do?”
But Emily would not answer him, she couldn’t. Stop being ridiculous, Marcus. He liked talking to her, sometimes. It kept her alive for him. He never wanted to let go, to move on. It would mean forgetting. How could he forget the child he had looked after, loved for five years, only to have her snatched away from him?
His heart seemed to get lighter, and a strange sort of peace descended on him while he sat on her bed. He couldn’t understand what was going on. Marcus was usually so keyed up about work at home, and now nothing seemed to matter. There was no point stressing about things he couldn’t change, to worry about how he could relive the past. All that seemed to matter now was a future.
“I’m going to set up the Emily Chapman Foundation. To help sick children live their dreams.” The idea had sprung from the darkest depths of his mind. He could use this house for it. Let parents with seriously ill children stay here while they visited their children.
Taking out his phone, he typed a text to Mary telling her of his idea. She would sort everything out. He couldn’t live in this house again, but neither could he sell it and lose Emily. She was here in this house, in the furniture. Her voice echoed off the walls and into his heart.
Leaving Emily’s room wasn’t as hard as he thought it would be, not this time. His little girl would always be with him—in this house, in his heart, his mind, until he joined her wherever she was.
Marcus walked into the spare room where he had put Josie’s things she had left behind. Pictures and knick-knacks, things he was going to give Emily when she had got a bit older. He knew where to find the photo of his ex-wife, buried under a mountain of clothes.
Taking out his mobile, he made a quick call to his friend at the office. “Hi, it’s Marcus. I need you to hire a private investigator to find Josie. I will text you a photo.”
Now for that spare room. He had no need for Josie’s things, not anymore. He ambled downstairs for the black bags. Taking them up to the room, he systematically put everything that had once belonged to Josie in them, throwing all the bags over the landing to the floor below. The bin men weren’t going to be happy.
Just when he had given up any hope of receiving a phone call today, his phone rang. “Hello…She works where?…Right, okay, thanks.” That was quick.
Marcus knew that not telling Josie before now had cost him a second chance at happiness with Annabel. Josie would not interfere with his life again, not after this. He regretted even getting involved with her in the first place. He headed to the kitchen and decided to sort out all the cupboards, slamming each drawer and cupboard door shut.
Emily was gone, and he couldn’t bring her back. He knew that, but he also knew that his little princess wouldn’t have minded having a sister. Not if the picture was anything to go by.
Clearing the bin bags from the hall, he grabbed his car keys and set off to see Josie. A necessary evil as his mother would say. It took him nearly three hours to get to Birmingham. The traffic was horrendous; Marcus had no idea what reception he would get. Not a good one, that was for sure.
Entering Josie’s office building, Marcus took a quick look around. Sleek lines and lots of light, an architect’s dream. “I’m here to see Josie Chapman.”
The receptionist eyed him suspiciously. “And you are?”
“Her ex-husband.” It actually felt good saying that.
“I will just call up and see if she will see you.” The receptionist quickly made a call. “She will be down in a moment.”
Marcus wandered over to the leather sofas and sat down. Josie always kept him waiting. The hands on the clock ticked slowly by. This was going to be one of the worst things he had done. Why had Annabel insisted he do this? Ever since she had come back into his life, he felt like he had been hit by a truck.
“What do you want, Marcus?” Josie stood before him, her brown hair cut into a neat bob and a black trouser suit made her look ever the business women he remembered.
“We need to talk. It’s about Emily.”
&n
bsp; “How many times do I have to tell you? Emily is your problem. I don’t want anything to do with her.” Josie turned to leave. “I gave her to you as having a child seemed so important to the ever high-and-mighty Marcus Chapman. I don’t want involved in any problems you may or may not have.”
“I am not high and mighty, thank you.” Marcus’s ire had risen. Now how should he tell her, gently or bluntly?
“Emily’s dead.” A harsh statement and not how he had planned to break the news. He knew how he sounded, but as she didn’t care, he wasn’t going to care about how he told her.
It had the desired effect. “What…what happened to her?”
Marcus looked at Josie. Her bottom lip was quivering. “She had meningitis, but it was too late to do anything.” Marcus’s whole body shook as a mix of anger and pain whirled around inside him.
“I didn’t know. I’m sorry for you, but she wasn’t my child.” Josie looked stony-faced. The brief look of guilty sadness was quickly replaced with Josie’s usual demeanor.
Didn’t that selfish bitch have a heart? Emily was just as much her daughter as his, and now she was gone. What the hell was that all about?
“Fine. I thought you should know.” Walking a little distance away, he added, “I see I have just wasted my time.”
He didn’t wait for a reply. He preferred to walk out of the building rather than tell her what he really thought. Did Annabel seriously think that he and Josie would get back together? Honestly, that woman drove him crazy. Hadn’t he shown Anna just what she had meant to him, what she had always meant to him?
Marcus’s heart sank. He had lost everything, first Emily and now Annabel. Was there any way he could win her back?
Chapter Eleven
Marcus stood outside Josie’s office building casting one last sad glance, a final goodbye to that part of his life. He wasn’t sad about Josie, just her heartlessness and the loss of a daughter who he would never see grow from a happy young girl to a terrible teenager, or get to walk up the aisle on her wedding day. There was no getting away from the history he and Josie had shared, but it was a history that could now thankfully be buried forever in the darkest part of his brain. Whilst Emily—his precious little girl—the only person who had loved him unconditionally, would remain forever in his heart.
Second Chance with the Playboy Page 11