by Carrie Elks
That kind of thought was dangerous.
“We had a baby?” he repeated. Hanna realized her mistake. In her desperation to get the news out, she hadn’t thought her words through.
“We have a baby, well he’s a toddler now, but he was a baby. Once.” Damn it, she was babbling now, her nerves shining through. It took every ounce of effort she had to meet his eyes. Her body recoiled when she saw the anger and confusion radiating from them.
“What the hell is going on?” He frowned, the deep creases in his forehead emerging as he tried to absorb her news. “I don’t understand what you’re saying.”
She realized she needed to show him proof, rather than try to explain. Her hands were shaking again, but she managed to control herself enough to pull her cell from her pocket, trying to steady her fingers as she pulled up her photos.
“When I left New York in 2010, I was pregnant. I didn’t realize it then, in fact I didn’t find out for a few months, but the last time we were together, we made a baby.” Her voice lingered over the final words. She still found the fact amazing.
“Are you certain he’s mine?”
His question was legitimate, but it still cut her to the quick. “Absolutely.”
The momentary silence was like a wall between the two of them. Hanna wondered if she would ever be able to breach it. She decided to continue, to give him all the information and then get the hell out of there. She wished she could hold Matty in her arms right now. She needed his presence to ground her.
“His name is Matthew, he was born on November twelfth. He’s eighteen months old.” She moved forward to show Richard a photograph on her iPhone, picking one she took a couple of days before. Matty was standing up in Tom’s living room, holding a ball as he attempted to throw it to Ruby. His joy at playing with his aunt was written all over his face; and he was biting his lip in concentration.
“That’s him?” Richard’s voice was dead. “That’s my son?”
Hanna nodded, the lump in her throat preventing her from speaking. She’d dreamed of this moment so many times, and his lack of emotion was killing her. Then a moment later, as she saw Richard’s face twist with anger, she longed for his previous, calm demeanor.
“I need to get out of this room. Stay here,” he spat, not giving her an option. He stalked over to the door that led to the outer office and wrenched it open. When he slammed it behind him, she heard a lock turn.
He’d locked her in.
He trusted her so little. He was so sure she’d run, that he felt he had to lock her in.
Or perhaps he was trying to protect her. The next moment, she heard something being thrown across the outer office, and the loud vibration of his voice as he shouted, followed by Lisa’s gentler tone, murmuring to him.
Hanna walked to the dark-brown leather sofa by the large, picture window and sat down, fingers tapping on the iPhone she still held in her hand.
I’ve told him. She sent the text to Ruby.
Within moments, Ruby had sent a reply. How did he take it?
He’s locked me in his office.
Are you okay? Is he okay? Bless Ruby. She always supported them both.
He’s left the room. I’m fine. I think he’s throwing furniture around.
A few minutes later, Hanna heard the door unlock, and then saw Lisa’s face appear as she pushed it open.
“How are you doing, Hanna?”
Hanna tried not to smile. Everybody was asking her the question they should ask Richard. She was fine. A little shaken, very worried, but fine.
“Is Richard all right?”
“He’s a little angry. It’s none of my business, but I think I got the gist. I told him to get some fresh air and come back when he’s calmed down.” Behind Lisa, Hanna could see the debris all over the floor where Richard had thrown pen pots and other office equipment. “Can I get you a drink while you wait for him?”
“I’d love a glass of water, thank you.” She hadn’t realized how dry her mouth was until Lisa had offered. The confrontation had sucked all the moisture from her.
It took more than twenty minutes for Richard to come back. While she waited, Hanna texted Ruby a few times, learning that Richard had been speaking with his sister on the phone, and seemed calmer than before. Hanna braced herself anyway when the door opened, afraid of what side of Richard she might see.
“I’m sorry I locked you in.” His first words calmed her. “I needed to get out before I caused any damage.”
“I’m the one that should be apologizing.”
Richard ignored her expression of regret. “I’ve asked Lisa to book us on the first flight to France. There’s a plane leaving tonight.”
“I’ve got a flight booked for tomorrow—” She began to protest, but Richard waved her off.
“It’s done. While I wait for my luggage to be dropped off you can give me a few answers.” He moved toward her, sitting down on the leather chair opposite her. In the glare of the afternoon sun, his features seemed sharper. She felt the strangest urge to trace the line of his jaw with her finger.
“I’d be happy to.”
Richard leaned back, running his hands through his hair. “Why didn’t you tell me? Was it in retaliation for me staying with Meredith while she got better? Because that’s pretty fucking low.” His words tumbled together, and Hanna could feel each one pierce her heart.
She shook her head rapidly. “I wanted to tell you. I didn’t find out until I was four months pregnant. As soon as I had the scan I called you.” She picked up the glass of water and knocked it back. “Your mother answered. She told me that Meredith was consigned to a wheelchair for life, and that you were looking after her.”
Richard’s hand was still in his hair, now tugging rather than smoothing. She resisted the urge to pull his arm down.
“My mother said what?” His voice was pure ice.
“She said Meredith was never going to walk again, that she would be stuck in a wheelchair forever.”
The silence that followed was thick. It took Richard a while to cut through it. “Why would she say that?”
Hanna’s heart felt like it was being squeezed by a vice. She was so scared he’d believe Caroline over her. Why wouldn’t he?
“I don’t know.” She shook her head. “But I believed her.” Hanna wanted to go back in time, relive that telephone conversation and ask Caroline more pointed questions. But she’d been so emotional, reeling from the discovery that she was pregnant, desperate to talk to Richard and tell him the news. Caroline had taken advantage and cut her off before she’d even begun.
“You don’t know.” His voice had taken on that dead tone again. She was finding it so hard to read him. His face was like a mask, and she wanted to reach out and grab him, shake some feeling into him. “So why didn’t you call me again?”
Hanna licked her dry lips. “Because if I told you I was pregnant, you would have left Meredith. I couldn’t do that to her, I couldn’t do that to you. I thought she was paralyzed and she needed you. I knew it would tear you in two to decide between us.”
“It was all a lie.” His previous stoic face was overrun by emotion. “My mother lied.”
“She didn’t know I was pregnant.” Hanna’s voice wavered, and she could feel the tears pricking at her eyes. “I should have told you.”
He pushed himself out of his seat, pacing the dark wooden floor. “I can’t even tell you how fucked up I am right now. I’m so angry at my mother, and at you, I’m even furious Ruby got to meet my son before I did. If you weren’t the mother of my child, I’d probably want to kill you.”
Hanna could feel herself shaking again. His frame of mind was swinging all over the place, and she could understand why. If she’d just found out about a child, eighteen months after the fact, she’d be angry, too. Not to mention confused and frightened.
She looked at him. “You said you had questions, as in plural?”
“What’s his full name?”
This was going to hurt
, she thought. “Matthew Richard Vincent.”
“You named him after me?”
“I couldn’t give him your surname, so I gave him your first name. Matthew means Gift from God.” She allowed a small sigh to escape her lips. “He truly is a gift, Richard.”
“Is he healthy? Is he happy?” His words shot out like bullets.
Her heart clenched. Even in the most emotional turmoil of his life, he was asking about the well being of others. She tried to quench the love for him that was threatening to spill out of her.
“He’s perfectly healthy. He’s had all his immunizations. There have been a few falls and bruises, but nothing major.” She attempted to smile at him through her tears. “He’s the happiest kid you could ever meet. He’s always smiling, loves playing games. When I walk into the house after I’ve been out, the sweetest, most beautiful grin seems to split his face in two.” She was waxing lyrical now, on a roll. “And he’s so clever. He already knows so many words, and he was walking before he was a year. You’ll love him.”
The rapt expression on Richard’s face told her he already did.
“I need to see him.” His voice cracked. “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Hanna wanted to reach out and touch him. The maelstrom of emotions was taking its toll on Richard. She was desperate to help him. “I’m so sorry. I wish you could have been there when he was born.”
“Was it an easy birth?” He stopped pacing and moved back to sit with her. This time he was beside her, and it gave her a spark of hope.
“It felt like he was ripping me in two, but he was worth all the pain. The moment they put him in my arms I realized I’d do it all again in a heartbeat.”
“Have you got any pictures, of when he was a baby?”
“All the newborn ones are in an album at home. In France. I’ve got a few of when he was crawling.” She scrolled through her phone and showed the photos to Richard. He looked at them all, his eyes lit up as he regarded his son.
“He’s beautiful,” he whispered.
“I can’t wait for you to meet him.”
“Ruby let me listen to him on the phone. He said your name.”
Hanna swallowed, her smile eclipsed by the tears as she thought about Matty. She missed him so much it hurt. Her arms ached from his absence. She reached up and wiped her damp cheeks.
“He’s such a clever boy.”
The door opened and Lisa put her head around the space. “Jack’s here with your luggage. Do you want to go straight down?”
“Yes.” Richard’s reply was crisp. He walked over to his desk and booted down his computer, packing up his laptop along with some files. As he zipped up the bag, he turned to Hanna. “Have you got Wi-Fi at your place in France?”
Hanna nodded, wondering just how long Richard was intending to stay. Then she started to worry about his intentions. He couldn’t remain in France forever. Was he going to try and take Matty away from her? He had every right to request joint custody, and no matter how much it would break her heart, she wouldn’t be able to refuse him.
She’d thought she’d be able to tell him the news, and then go back to France. She’d assumed her life would remain the same, only enhanced by the fact that Matty would get to know his dad. If her life was complicated before, it was nothing compared to what the future would bring.
Richard walked into the outer office and picked up her bag, hoisting it over his shoulder. Hanna trailed after him, her heart still racing as she thought about the future. Part of her was so excited she’d see Matty in less than a day’s time. The other half was so afraid she was finding it hard to breathe.
It remained to be seen, whether the hardest part was over yet.
Twenty Three
May 13th 2012
While leaning back in the leather seat, Richard glanced over at the small, round window, noticing they were finally over land. The patchwork of fields far below was enough for him to know they were flying over Europe; even from the sky it was so very different from the US. Smaller, prettier, it somehow suited the temperament of its inhabitants.
One of which was his son.
His son.
He could repeat the words over and again in his mind, but they weren’t sinking in. For the first time ever, he had taken a pill before getting on the plane—enough to calm his edgy nerves, and to stop him from wanting to alternately kiss and kill Hanna Vincent. She was asleep next to him, her long, mahogany hair splayed out over the headrest of the seat. Two transatlantic flights in less than twenty-four hours had knocked it out of her. The exhaustion was written across her beautiful face.
He glanced back down at his open laptop, scanning his eyes over the emails he had downloaded before getting on the plane. When he’d asked Lisa to book them on this flight, she’d automatically canceled and rearranged all of his meetings, though it looked like he’d have to do some via video conference. He hoped to hell Hanna’s Wi-Fi was up to the challenge.
Another surge of rational anger swept through him. His face contorted as he tried to control the fury, as his hands balled into desperate fists. He couldn’t look at her, couldn’t think about what she had done without wanting to cause her pain. It was killing him.
A stifled sob brought him out of the red cloud, and he turned his head to see Hanna had woken up. She was staring at him, her hand covering her mouth, cheeks shiny with tears. His anger abated, replaced by concern, and he cursed his alternating moods.
He wasn’t going to reach out and wipe away her tears. Not this time. Not even if his hand was already hovering, desperate to touch her cheek.
“I’m sorry.” Her voice was little more than a whisper. “You look so angry.”
Richard took a deep breath. This was no place to have this conversation, no matter how desperate Hanna was to be absolved. The overhead lights were dimmed, but the constant movements of the stewardesses, and the numerous travelers who were walking down the aisle to the bathroom, made their cocoon anything but private. The recriminations would have to wait until they’d landed in France, until they were alone in the villa.
Until he met his son.
The seatbelt light illuminated over their heads, followed by an announcement from the head steward that they were beginning their descent. Richard stared out of the window again, amazed at the beauty of the land below. The bright white light of the morning sun pierced his eyes. New York already seemed so far behind, like a city of dreams.
“I’ve arranged for a car to pick us up from the airport.” He tried to keep his voice conversational. Being in close proximity to her was such a bad idea. Every emotion it was possible to suffer seemed to pass through him whenever he looked at her. He tried his hardest not to.
“Thank you.”
“Ruby and Tom are going to meet us at the Villa. After that they’re traveling to Monaco for a few days. It will give us a chance to sort things out.”
He could feel Hanna tense up. Her arm was millimeters away from his, and he watched as her fingers tapped nervously on the leather rest. Clutching his thigh hard, he damped down the urge to curl his hand around hers, to rub his thumb along her knuckles until she calmed.
“They’re leaving?” she asked, her voice tremulous. “I was hoping to spend a little time with Ruby.”
Richard shook his head, still staring at her hand. “I want some time with my son, away from everybody else.”
Another barely contained sob. He didn’t need to look at her to know she was biting her lip. He knew everything about this girl; the way she laughed, the way she cried.
The way she lied.
The plane was descending fast, and he could feel his ears numb up as they tried to adjust to the altitude. Hanna reached forward and grabbed a bottle of water from the cup holder and started to gulp rapidly. He’d forgotten how sensitive her ear canals were, but now he could remember in stark resolution those few flights they took together from New York to London, and how he’d stroke her hair as she swallowed desperately, trying to equa
lize the pressure in her head.
He licked his dry lips. He wasn’t going to look at her.
Her hand lifted away from the armrest, and he assumed she was grabbing at her ear. His gaze followed the wake of her movement until he was looking at her thick, wavy hair. It glowed almost red in the reflection of the bright light streaming through the porthole of the plane. Her fingers curled around her ear, and when he moved his eyes to look at her face, he could see it contorted with pain.
“Come here.” He pulled her head against his, threading his fingers through her hair. He massaged her scalp in a long forgotten rhythm, feeling her relax against him as he continued to caress.
She was still crying. Her tears were falling onto his shirt, moistening it where her cheeks touched him. The heel of his palm touched her other cheek, wiping it dry as he moved his hand against her.
“Thank you.” Her voice was muffled by his chest. He wasn’t sure what she was grateful for—the human decency of trying to quell her pain, the fact he’d finally touched her, or maybe the hope they could find a way through this mess and come out on the other side with a level of amicability.
Once off the plane, they separated at passport control; Hanna having to go through the European side, while he remained with the herd of people trying to make their way through “rest of the world.” She waited for him by baggage reclaim; she’d even picked his bags from the carousel and placed them on a waiting trolley. Their interactions reverted to being excruciatingly polite.
The journey to the villa took under an hour. It was a bright spring day; the fields were full of greenery and the roads were full of small, noisy cars, barely obeying the rules of driving. Every now and then a tiny car, usually a Renault or Citroen, would swerve around their taxi and Hanna would flinch.
When they pulled up to Tom’s house, Richard felt his mouth drop open. When Hanna had called it a “villa,” he had imagined a quaint country cottage, maybe two or three bedrooms complete with peeling white paint and rotting wooden shutters. Instead it was more of a palace. Even for someone like Richard, who was used to wealth and property, it was large. It kicked him in the stomach to know his son was growing up within these walls.