If Matilda was pregnant, it should be celebratory news. Not this.
‘God, I’m such a fucking stupid arse,’ he groaned, pressing the heels of his palms against his eyes. He loved Matilda. She would be an incredible mother—she had already proven how caring she was with the way she effortlessly allowed his daughter into her life. And how accepting she had always been of Mitch’s time with Sophie.
‘Stoop arse,’ Sophie imitated.
He winced as he lurched from the chair and paced to Sophie. ‘Come on, darling. You can go and spend the night with Aunty Amy.’
Yes, moving forward into his future, having another child, being a strong man for Matilda, still filled him with fear that he could stumble. But he knew what he wanted and the direction he was headed.
He chose Matilda—a future with her. He chose to no longer be the man he was after Rachel died. He would take responsibility for his and Matilda’s happiness. If he didn’t take this leap forward now, his hope for a wonderful future and life would crumble between his hands like a withered old vine.
Matilda’s house was locked up when he arrived—the curtains were pulled across the windows. He knocked loudly on the front door only to receive no answer.
‘Matilda. It’s me. Mitch. Can we talk please?’
No answer.
He knocked again. Louder. ‘Matilda, it’s Mitch. Please, we need to talk face to face.’
As he was about to knock again, the front lock clicked, then the door opened.
Matilda stood there before him, dressed in her pyjamas—little shorts with a matching singlet. Her hair hung around her shoulders.
What if she was pregnant?
Little thrilling bursts crackled in his heart and spread through his chest and to his limbs. It was like pulses of lightning streaking through that dark endless sky he once used to look up at. Now, instead of being that tiny speck in the field, he was lighting everything up.
To feel this anticipation about the beautiful woman before him and the baby, his baby, she held in her womb, was rightness. There was no need for fear like he had once stupidly, mistakenly convinced himself to feel.
In his old frame of mind, he would have mistrusted his abilities to be here for Matilda and this child. In his old frame of mind, the shame and guilt he once wore like a protective cloak, would have clouded his perceptions with gloom and nihilism.
But how could he not feel that spark of anticipation and that deep drenching of love that seeped into his blood, making it rush faster. As he saw her now, he wanted her to be pregnant.
She burst into tears and his thoughts ground to a halt, unused to this type of reaction. His heart fractured to see real pain on her face.
No use daydreaming about having a baby with Matilda when they were barely on talking terms.
‘Matilda, I am so sorry,’ he said stepping closer and extending his arms out to wrap her up in them, but she backed away.
‘Please, Mitch, don’t.’
He took a step back. ‘I’m sorry,’ he said again, his face hot with embarrassment that those two words were all he seemed to say to her. ‘Can I come in, so we can talk?’
She shook her head. ‘You can say what you need to say here.’
He drew a deep breath. His shoulders hunched on his exhale. ‘I heard that you bought a pregnancy test.’
She rolled her eyes. ‘Good news travels fast here, doesn’t it?’
‘Matilda, please, can we go inside and talk about this?’
She opened the door wider and gestured he come in.
‘Thanks,’ he said. ‘Where would you like to go?’
‘The living room will be fine.’
He nodded and waited for her to lead the way.
When in the living room, he took a seat on the couch while she sunk down onto the chair across from him.
‘So, did you … um … take the test?’ he asked when the silence between them went on too long.
She wiped her eyes and sat up a little taller. She lifted her chin. ‘I did. And you’d be happy to know that the result was negative.’
The bursts of excitement in his chest no longer sparked. ‘Oh,’ he said. The bright future he had envisioned dimmed. ‘Could it be too early for the test to be accurate?’
She shook her head. ‘I got my period this morning.’ Tears pooled again and rolled down her face. Her bottom lip trembled.
He couldn’t speak for a long moment as he wrestled with the invasion of disappointment. ‘I’m sorry, Matilda. I truly am.’
‘It’s for the best.’ She gestured to him. ‘Obviously.’
His cheeks burned with shame. Why the hell had he said what he said at Christmas? ‘I don’t know how to make this better.’
‘How about, don’t even try.’
‘You wanted to be pregnant, Matilda?’ He didn’t know why he blurted that out. Perhaps he needed to hear that she had wanted this too.
She didn’t say anything for a long time. Tears rolled down her cheeks and she wiped them away. ‘I only had a small moment to consider it as a possibility, but during that time I think I had determined that regardless of what decision you made—I was happy.’
‘It was the same for me,’ he admitted, voice deep.
She met his gaze; her eyebrows arched higher then fell back to place.
‘When you said negative just now, I was upset. I still am,’ he said.
She narrowed her eyes, shook her head. ‘Trying to understand your emotions and reactions is hard work, Mitch.’
‘I know. I wish I was clearer. The truth is, even I don’t know how I’ll react anymore.’ He was still trying to get to know the new him. ‘But over the last week, I’ve had a lot of time to think.’
Her next breath in was noisy, like she was bracing herself for yet more bullshit that he would later take back.
‘I have wanted to come here and talk to you a thousand times, but I know I’ve pushed you away once too many, and I really don’t have any clue in hell how to fix that.’
She lifted her legs up on to the couch and crossed them under her. ‘I don’t know either, Mitch. I think we’re irreparably broken. Even with the children dilemma aside, you are not ready for me. In your heart and in your mind, you’re still married to Rachel. And while you think that way, I can be nothing more than a mistress. I don’t want to be anyone’s mistress, Mitch. Least of all yours. I want to be an equal partner, as well as a lover. You show me time and time again that I can’t be that with you.’
His heart burned with the pain of those words. She was right. He had treated her like a clandestine lover when he wasn’t pushing her out the door. But the reasons why were not what she assumed.
‘I don’t know what to say to make this better between us because I know I’ve already said it before. I love you—I can’t deny that. But my love was all bound up with shame and fear and grief.’ He leant forward, elbows on his knees and peered intently into her eyes.
Enough with hiding. Enough with not saying what he needed to say clearly. ‘I thought that pushing you away was all about Rachel dying and my grief, but in a way, it wasn’t about that at all.’
Her brow furrowed.
‘I was scared to love you because somewhere in the back of my mind I believed I wasn’t good enough. All my life I knew that it was my job as the eldest brother to look out for Sam and Tom. And as the eldest sibling, especially with Dad gone, it was my duty to oversee the vineyard and take care of Mum. And as father and husband, it was my responsibility to ensure the happiness and safety of my daughter and wife. And then Rachel died and I dropped the ball completely. I let everyone down—Rachel, Sam, Tom, Sophie. I let myself down. And now you.’
He lowered his head and shook it. ‘I broke your heart, just so I didn’t have to admit the truth that I was scared of failing you and falling short of what you needed from me. I was filled with so much shame. And now I don’t know how to make it right again with you. For the first time since Rachel’s death, I know and accept that she isn’t c
oming back and nothing I do will ever change that. And I realised that I wasn’t coming back either.’
His next breath in was shaky, but he tried to control his voice. ‘It was so fucking hard, Matilda. To let go of all that false hope was like freefalling off a cliff into the deepest darkest hole, then having to claw my way out it. I thought I would be lost. I needed hope that it was okay to let go. And I needed to know that on the other side of all this pain was something I could live for and someone who would allow me to be this newer version of me. You are that hope, Mati. It was you who I saw. We had a baby. And the love …’ He stopped when the emotions stirring within him choked his words. He swallowed hard. ‘The love was so strong. We were a family. You. Me. Sophie. And our baby. I want that. I want that so much. I will do anything for that.
‘We have been given the sweetest second chance to love each other again. I can’t think of a greater gift. And I may not be the man I once thought I was, but it doesn’t mean I can’t be a good man and father and lover. I’m so sorry I hurt you. Please, give us—me—one more chance.’
Her breaths were coming harder, but she didn’t speak.
‘Say something,’ he whispered.
She frowned, shook her head. ‘I’m not sure I can come back from this. You hurt me one too many times, and it’s eroded my trust. Without that security there—to always be waiting for when you hit some barrier again and discard me—is not the type of relationship I want.’
‘Fuck,’ he growled under his breath. He slid his hand down his face as the pain of that statement flared in his soul. ‘I’m sorry I made this so hard.’
‘I’m sorry too. The timing is all off. Maybe if we explored us further down the road—’
He shook his head. ‘I don’t see it that way. You came back to me exactly when I needed you to—it’s taken me this long to realise.’
‘For you, sure, that’s great. But the emotional impact on me these last few months, on top of my ex having a baby with his new partner—’
He frowned. ‘What? Oscar is having a baby?’
She blew out a long breath. ‘I thought you would have heard.’
‘Jesus. I’m so sorry … that must have been tough to hear.’
Tears filled her eyes. ‘It hurt, but I thought, in the end, it didn’t matter because I had found you again, and you were everything I’ve ever wanted. I realised I had come back home to Alpine Ridge for you … to be with you. But you didn’t feel the same.’
He lowered his face into his hands and growled. ‘What can I do to prove to you that I’m here for you … forever?’
She shook her head. ‘Absolutely nothing. I’m not going to put myself through that again when I doubt the outcome will be any different.’
‘I’m sorry. I don’t know what else to say, but I’m sorry.’ And he was sorry because Matilda, whom he loved with all his heart, was now reluctant to love him in return with as much abandon.
That was a travesty—to have hurt someone so much that they feared bearing all of themselves.
‘Say you love me, Mati,’ he whispered, throat tight with grief.
She shook her head. ‘I can’t.’
The threads of his heart unravelled and the pain of it was excruciating. His eyes glossed with tears. ‘Is there nothing I can do to change your mind?’
Again that sad shake of her head. ‘No.’
His breaths came harder in his chest. ‘I can’t stop loving you, Mati. I won’t. We could be happy again if you let me show you how much I want you. We could have that family you want and that I want. It could be so great.’
A sob bellowed from her. ‘Please, Mitch, don’t. This is hard enough without false promises.’
‘They’re not false.’ His words were loud, firm.
‘I know you believe them to be real and true, but I know better. History has taught me that.’ She got to her feet and started towards the front door. ‘It’s best you leave. I need some time alone for a while.’
He heaved himself off the lounge with a noisy exhale. His legs were as heavy as tree trunks. His heart as broken as glass. ‘I’m sorry,’ he whispered through his tight throat. ‘I’m so sorry.’
And then he left.
Chapter 29
Matilda gasped when she noticed Mitch and Sophie in the fruit and vegetable aisle of the grocery store.
Four days had passed since he came to her house. Four days she had battled with the brutal aftermath of calling it quits between them.
She ducked behind a display at the end of the aisle advertising reduce-priced washing powder and watched him from a distance.
The effect on her body—the fast racing heart, the shortness of breath, but mostly the unbearable heaviness in her chest and limbs—caught her off guard. She inhaled deeply in the hopes for some semblance of calm, but it didn’t come.
The only emotion she could recognise was intense longing. Why did he have to push her away yet again after so many chances? It pained her deeply that he had blown it like this.
No matter what Matilda did, no matter how well she thought it was between them, no matter how much they loved each other—she couldn’t compete with Rachel.
Dealing with that reality was brutal. To never feel like she was enough for him was torture.
She watched him as he wheeled his trolley. Sophie sat in the front compartment, holding onto the rail and looking up at her dad. He was talking to her and smiling. She said something back and laughed. He tickled her belly and made her laugh even more so that Matilda heard the beautiful melody of that sound from where she hid.
Children had the most infectious laugh—no restraint, no self-consciousness. Matilda was glad, despite Sophie’s sad entry in the world, she was happy.
Yearning vibrated like the reverberations of a church bell in her body to be a part of that little family unit. In the small time she spent with Mitch, she had believed she could slip into their lives so easily, so willingly.
And then Mitch took everything away. Even her own hope for the future.
She had to get out of here or she was going to go crazy with want and sadness and remorse. Why couldn’t they have made it through this last hurdle?
Abandoning her trolley, she grabbed her purse and marched quickly out of the shop. She didn’t meet anyone’s eyes as she feared any kind word, any pleasant exchange, would send her over the ledge she was teetering on into an abyss of gloom.
She’d spent enough time there these holidays, she didn’t want to be there anymore.
Thankfully now that her hormones had settled, she wasn’t so upset about the negative test result. With some relationality, she could see it wouldn’t have been an ideal scenario no matter how much she wanted a child. It wasn’t right to bring a baby into such instability.
She wanted the whole package—the mum, dad and children all together.
Matilda made it to the front door and nearly ran into Tiffany as she was coming in. ‘Oh, sorry,’ she stammered.
‘Slow down, honey. What’s the rush?’
‘Oh, no rush. I thought I just … um … left my iron on, so I’ve got to go back.’
‘I do that all the time,’ Tiffany said closing the door and moving to the side as though to have a long conversation. ‘I’ve been wanting to ask you,’ Tiffany said, lowering her voice. ‘What was the test result? Are you and Mitch going to be parents? I know it’s terrible timing and all, considering you and Mitch have ended things because, you know …’
Tears pricked the back of her eyes and she wanted to run away. Heat rose in her cheeks. ‘I told you, the test wasn’t for me.’ Indignation burned up her throat for even needing to defend her situation—this was none of Tiffany’s business.
Tiffany rolled her eyes. ‘Oh, please, you expect me to believe that?’
‘It’s the truth. So, if you’ll excuse me, I need to get home to this iron before my house burns down.’
Matilda rushed past Tiffany not listening to whatever else came out of her gossiping mouth. She jog
ged to her car and climbed in. Her nerves were rampaging, as was her heart, but she wouldn’t succumb to the emotions. Not here. Not with Tiffany probably watching her every move.
After starting the engine, Matilda reversed and zoomed out of the car park. She headed towards her mother’s house.
‘I was wondering when you’d pay me a visit,’ Mum said when she opened the door.
‘Mum, this is so damn hard.’
‘Come on in. I’ll make us a cup of tea and we’ll have a chat.’
Matilda followed her to the kitchen and helped with the tea preparations—anything to distract her from her rioting emotions.
‘Mitch came to see me yesterday,’ Mum said, placing teabags into cups.
Matilda’s head snapped up. ‘What? Why?’
‘He wanted a chat. He needed a chat. He’d gone to see Mrs Mathews, but she had a bit of a turn and wasn’t in any frame of mind to hear his struggles. He felt lost and needed an ear, so he came here.’
Matilda gripped her chest as her sympathy made her heart ache. ‘What did he say?’
‘I’ll finish making these, then we’ll talk.’
Matilda hurriedly helped Mum with the milk and set out a plate of biscuits, eager to know what Mitch could possibly have said to her.
They sat on the back porch.
‘Where’s Dad?’ Matilda asked.
‘He’s gone into town. Needed hardware or some such thing. I swear he just likes to stroll the hardware store’s aisles.’ Her mother smiled.
Even Matilda’s lips curled.
‘But, if it gives us some peace to talk, I’m fine. As long as he doesn’t come home with more useless items he’ll never use.’
Matilda had a sip of her tea and stared out at the paddocks. Cattle grazed on the grass in the distant yard, their tails whipping flies every now and then.
‘So you and Mitch had a talk?’ Matilda prompted.
Mum sipped her tea, then nodded as she placed her cup back on the saucer. ‘A great talk. He was able to get a lot off his chest. It wasn’t a counsellor-to-client conversation, but more of a motherly-figure-to-son talk. He’s got a lot on his plate, and I think he was desperate to blurt out what he needed to say to someone who would listen and not judge.’
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