‘Rosa,’ he rasped. Why did his voice sound so strange?
‘It’s okay, baby,’ she said, settling some of the spinning happening inside him. ‘It’s okay. You’re okay.’
As she wrapped her arms around him he wanted to tell her that it didn’t feel as if he was okay. That his head hurt with all the thoughts, and his lungs felt as if they couldn’t hold the air he was breathing.
But the thoughts he’d believed so coherent in his mind came out as a garbled mess of air and words. Her hold tightened on him but her voice stayed calm and after some time had passed—he didn’t know how long—he looked up at her, and followed her instructions to breathe.
‘In,’ she told him, ‘and out.’ She smiled. ‘See, you’re doing it. Just keep breathing. Inhale on a count to five, exhale on a count to five. You’ve got this, baby. You can do this. I know you can do this.’
He didn’t know how long it took before he believed her. Or how long after he believed her that his breathing actually reflected it. And when he was still—when he felt his mind and body still—she was on her knees and somehow he was cradled in her arms.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said quietly. She pulled back, her eyes sweeping across his face, and then she shook her head.
‘What are you apologising for?’
‘That...that you had to see this.’ The words were more helpless than he’d intended, and only succeeded in making him feel even more of a fool.
‘If by “this” you mean whatever happened out here, don’t apologise.’ She shifted, and it tugged him out of whatever was going on in his head. The position she was in must have been uncomfortable, and he wasn’t sure how long she’d been sitting there like that.
He helped ease her off her knees and then pulled her forward so that she sat on his lap. She didn’t protest, just lifted a hand and swept hair from his forehead.
‘You don’t have to apologise, Aaron,’ she said again, her hand now playing with his hair.
‘You shouldn’t have—’
‘Do you think I wanted you to see me after I threw up yesterday?’ She clenched her jaw, and then relaxed it again. After taking a breath, she continued. ‘Or have you witness what my anxiety is doing to me? What it could do to me?’ She lifted her shoulders. ‘I’ve run away—hid—from you before because I didn’t want you to see that. But you showed me that was wrong.’ She paused, as if she were letting her words sink in. ‘Talk to me. Let me in.’
Her words shook him. And again he realised how complicated her decision to leave had been.
But he’d just had a panic attack. The first he’d ever had, and he didn’t know where it had come from. He needed time to process that. And what she’d told him. He couldn’t find the right words to explain that to her.
‘Okay,’ she said when the silence stretched. ‘Tell me what happened before you came up here.’
‘I... I was just talking with Lee about—’ He broke off when he realised Rosa would learn nothing about what had caused him to react like that from a discussion he’d had with one of his associates.
Because his panic attack had had nothing to do with what he’d been talking about with Lee. At some point during the conversation his head had started spinning and it had felt as if he couldn’t get enough air into his lungs. And his mind...
He’d been thinking about all the promises he’d wanted to make to Rosa, but that he’d never be able to keep.
And about how he couldn’t keep lying to her. About how she had the right to know that he wasn’t worthy to be her husband. He was barely worthy of being a father to their child.
‘Aaron—’ her soft voice interrupted his thoughts ‘—talk to me.’
He looked into her eyes and could only see the things he couldn’t give her. ‘I can’t be there for you, Rosa. Not in the way you need.’
* * *
Her heart dipped almost as violently as it had when she’d seen him in that corner. It was still bruised from holding her stoic, strong husband in her arms as he shook, as he struggled for air. It could barely bear the weight of him telling her now he couldn’t be there for her.
‘I’ll get it under control,’ she said, her voice just above a whisper. ‘No,’ she said almost immediately. ‘I don’t know if I have what my mother had. I don’t know if I’m a hypochondriac. Or about the cancer. So I’ll get it diagnosed. I’ll see a psychologist, and get screened for the breast cancer gene. I’ll keep my anxieties in check. I’m already trying,’ she added, desperation fuelling her words. ‘I go to the doctor if I feel off, and it almost always is something. It isn’t in my head.’
The last words were said in a whisper, and her hands reached for his, gripping them tightly. ‘I’ll fix it, Aaron. Just don’t...don’t leave me.’
‘Rosa,’ he said, his voice shaking. But it wasn’t from whatever had happened to him. No, it was because of what she’d just told him and she immediately felt guilt crush her.
‘I’m sorry. I’m being selfish. I’m being...’ The words drifted and she felt tears follow them down her cheeks. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘I wasn’t talking about that,’ he replied, and he let go of one of her hands and slid an arm around her waist. ‘I should have thought you might think that.’ His expression softened. ‘That’s another part of why you left, isn’t it? You thought I’d leave you too. Like your dad did with your mom.’
Not trusting herself to speak, she pursed her lips. Nodded.
‘I won’t,’ he said softly. Firmly. ‘Not because of that. Not because of you.’ He pressed a kiss to her lips that calmed some of the frantic beating of her heart. ‘It’s because of me, Rosa. It’s always because of me.’
* * *
‘That’s what happened earlier.’ Somehow her reaction had made him see the reasons for his own more clearly. ‘I was thinking about how I wanted to promise you I’d always be there for you.’ He took a breath. Wondered how, over the last month, he’d shared more with her—had delved more into his emotions—than he ever had before.
‘Lee’s been working on a case where a mother who desperately wants custody of her kids won’t get it.’ And now that he thought about it—now that his brain was steadier—he realised his discussion with Lee had contributed to his reaction after all. ‘She promised them they’d be able to live with her, but her two jobs won’t make that possible. She broke down in Lee’s office because she’d have to break that promise to them.’
The more he spoke, the clearer it became. ‘It’s not fair. She works two jobs to make sure that they have everything they want. Except her.’ He paused. ‘And because of that broken promise they’re going to spend their lives not trusting her.’
‘Aaron, it’s not the same thing—’
‘No,’ he interrupted. ‘That’s not what...’ He blew out a breath. ‘What happened here was partly because of the promise I couldn’t make to you, and partly because those kids... They’re going to wonder if they were the reason that promise was broken. If they did something wrong, or if she really wanted them in the first place.’ Emotion, strong and heavy, sat in his chest. ‘They’re going to be angry with her at first, and then they’re going to feel responsible for making sure she believes their existence was worth it.’ He looked at her. ‘It’ll make them take responsibility for things they shouldn’t have to. It’ll affect their entire lives. And everything that goes wrong from this point in their lives will make them wonder if it was their fault.’
‘Like if their wives leave.’
‘Yes.’
‘Even when it’s clear their wives have problems, fears of their own, that contributed to why they left?’
How did she always see what he couldn’t say? ‘Yes.’
‘And at what point do they start believing that there’s nothing wrong with them? That their wives love them more than anyone else in the world, and that they would do anything to make the
m believe that?’
‘I’m broken,’ Aaron said, and the pain in his chest agreed with him. ‘You saw that. You left because of it.’
‘But you’ve shown me that I was wrong, Aaron. The way you’ve dealt with all this.’ She made a vague gesture towards her stomach. ‘And with your mom today.’ She paused. ‘What you said to me this afternoon. You’ve grown. I just didn’t see it.’
‘Or you did, and—’
‘No, Aaron. I was wrong. Scared.’
‘But my mom took so little interest in me, and my dad... He wasn’t even there.’
‘That’s more about them than it is about you,’ she said gently. ‘You’ve learnt that with me this past month.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘It doesn’t mean you’re the one who’s broken. And if you are... Well, then, all of us are.’
‘But your mother and father didn’t leave—’ He broke off with a shake of his head. ‘I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking.’
‘No, it’s okay.’ She leaned back against the railing, making him think about how ridiculous they must look. Her in her beautiful gown, and him in his tux. Broken, shaken, on the floor of a balcony.
‘I don’t think I ever thought that there might have been something wrong with me because my parents...were who they were. Are, I guess, in the case of my dad. Not until I found that lump and freaked out.’ She lifted a hand to his face now. ‘I understand why you feel this way. And now, with the baby on the way, why it’s an issue.’
‘Because I’m going to be a terrible father?’
‘What? No!’ She straightened. ‘I meant it made you think of your parents. Of your father. No,’ she said again. ‘You’re going to be a terrific father.’
‘I don’t know if I can believe that.’ He was so tired of saying it, and yet it haunted him so that he couldn’t do anything but say it.
‘Well, I’m telling you.’ She paused. ‘I know your relationship with your mother is...difficult. And unfair. But she’s done a pretty decent job of teaching you how to be responsible.’ She wrinkled her nose. ‘Silver linings.’
‘Yes, I know how to be responsible. I’ve been responsible my whole life. But look where that got me.’ He felt helpless saying it. And, despite what she’d told him, he couldn’t believe her. He couldn’t believe that he’d be good for them. For her and the baby.
‘I’m having a panic attack during a work function, Rosa. I can’t face that I’m going to be a father. The responsibility is...easy. I’ll look after the child. I’ll be there, which is more than what my mom and dad did.’ He paused. ‘But what is responsibility going to teach this child? That I have to love them?’
‘Is that how you feel?’
He shrugged. ‘I don’t know.’
Silence followed his words and, though he knew she would never say it, he sensed that he’d hurt her with his answer. Felt it confirmed when she drew herself up and tried to stand. He helped as much as he could, and was already standing when she turned back to him.
‘You have to figure this out, Aaron,’ she told him softly, kindly, though he’d hurt her. ‘We—me and your baby—don’t want to feel like you’re just there for us out of some warped sense of responsibility.’
‘I wouldn’t be.’
‘No? There isn’t a part of you that feels like the only reason you’re open to getting back together again is because I’m pregnant?’
‘I... I didn’t realise that was on the table.’
She laughed lightly. Mockingly now. ‘You didn’t realise that getting back together was an option? Not when I sat on your lap and kissed you back? When I fell apart and told you enough to help you put me back together again?’ Any pretence of humour left her face. ‘You didn’t think me speaking with your mother, me staying here to accompany you tonight, that any of that meant I wanted to get back together again?’
‘I... I didn’t want to hope. After what happened,’ he finished lamely.
‘After I left.’ He nodded, and she sighed. ‘Maybe I was stupid for thinking that we’d be able to move past this.’ She lifted a hand to her forehead. ‘Or maybe we just need to clear it up.’ She straightened her shoulders. ‘You know why I left. And I know where I went wrong in making that decision.’ She paused. ‘I’m going to manage my anxiety. Or do my best to try. You said you’d be there for me.’ He nodded. ‘Did you mean that as the mother of your child, or as your wife?’
He hesitated only briefly. ‘Both.’
She gave him a sad smile. ‘If this is going to work we have to be honest,’ she said, reminding him of his words at the restaurant the night before. But he didn’t respond. Couldn’t, since he was still trying to figure out what had happened that had got them to this point.
Hope and guilt made a potent shot, he thought, and wondered why he’d downed it.
‘Aaron... I want to stay married to you. I love you—’ her eyes went glossy as she said the words ‘—and I’ll always regret how stupid I was to leave you instead of opening up to you. But this whole experience has taught me that there were things that we were going through by ourselves that we shouldn’t have gone through alone. That we should have shared.’
She blew out a breath. ‘So maybe, in some weird way, this was a good thing.’ She went silent, her face pensive, and then she shook her head. ‘But we know what we know now. And the actions of the past have brought us here, to make this decision. So, if you want me—’ her voice broke and she cleared her throat ‘—you’re going to have to move past what happened and—’ she threw up her hands ‘—and hope again. Because, right now, I’m choosing you again. Not because of the baby. Because of me. Because I love you, and I was foolish to believe that I could go through life without you.’
She stepped forward, laid a hand on his cheek. ‘But I will, if you can’t choose me too. If you don’t want to be responsible for me and our child. Because that’s what it is, isn’t it?’ She didn’t wait for an answer. ‘Wanting to be responsible for someone instead of feeling like you have to be. Can you say that about us?’
He opened his mouth to agree, to tell her how much he wanted their lives to go back to being how they’d been before. But he knew that he couldn’t. Because, as she’d said, they knew what they knew now. And the things he knew about himself worried him more than anything he’d found out about her.
He couldn’t be sure that he wanted to be responsible for them. Couldn’t be sure because he didn’t know what wanting to be responsible looked like. His entire life had been spent doing things he had to do. Except for Rosa. He’d wanted her, but now even that had felt like a compulsion of sorts.
Had he felt obliged to be with her because that had been what their sick mothers had wanted? What her mother had asked of him? Or had it been the attraction, the heat, that had dictated their relationship? Their love?
Her eyes filled again as the silence grew. Her hand dropped and she hung her head. He wanted to comfort her, to draw her in and promise that he’d made a mistake.
He couldn’t.
When she looked up at him again her eyes were clear, though there was still that unbearable sadness in them. She lifted up onto her toes, put both hands on his cheeks and kissed him.
It tasted like goodbye, and somehow that taste felt familiar to him. He found himself swept away by it. Felt the emptiness fill him when she pulled away. Felt his hands go to her hips as she lowered to her feet again. As he kissed her forehead.
He didn’t know how long they stood like that, but he knew he’d remember for ever what happened next.
‘Be happy,’ she said hoarsely. ‘Find out what that means to you and go for it. I’ll be in touch about the baby. We can figure things out once you’ve had time to...’ Her voice faded and it was a few seconds later when she said, ‘When you’ve had time.’
And then she was gone.
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
‘AND YOU DON’T think it
’s normal?’ The delicate older woman waited patiently for Rosa’s reply, and Rosa took a deep breath, preparing herself to answer the question honestly.
She had been the one who’d decided to make good on her promise to get her anxieties under control. She might not have a husband to do it for—she swallowed at the pain that quaked through her body—but she had a child. Or she would have a child. And since her anxiety had spiked since she’d returned to Cape Town the week before, she’d finally decided to go to the psychologist.
‘Normal?’ Rosa asked. ‘The fact that I worry incessantly about what’s happening in my body? That I can’t trust it?’
‘Yes,’ Dr Spar replied. ‘You don’t think, after what your mother went through, it’s normal to have your concerns?’
‘Well, I suppose that’s why I’m here. Because it’s normal coming from where I come from.’ She bit her lip. ‘But the worrying extends to my decisions. And I can’t trust them either.’
‘Which bothers you?’
‘It’s affected my life.’
Dr Spar nodded. ‘Have you thought about how not trusting yourself might have come from your mother being unable to trust herself?’
‘Not quite so specifically. But I know my indecisiveness, or struggling to trust my decisions... I know that’s because of my mother.’
‘You told me that you didn’t want to use your mother as an excuse for your actions any more.’
‘That doesn’t mean I magically know how to stop doing that.’
‘Except being here of your own accord—for your child—means that you have, in some way. Can you see that?’
She lifted a shoulder. ‘Maybe.’
‘You struggle with it.’
‘With seeing that I’m not my mother?’ Rosa asked.
‘Yes,’ Dr Spar replied. ‘But also with seeing yourself for who you are.’ She paused. ‘You’re not your mother, Rosa. You can see where your fears and anxieties come from. And you’re facing them. Do you think your mother could do that?’
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