by Ally Blake
Then she heard a light bump and she could picture him leaning his forehead against the door. “Sure. Why not?”
She closed her eyes, letting the tears flow fast and furious down each cheek, before she swiped them hastily away. “I’ll have a quick shower and be ready in ten.”
She was ready in seven. Tears washed away. Game face on. Tougher than she looked. Tougher than she felt. Well used to making big mistakes by now. Used to having to face them.
She’d never been more scared to face up to one than she was right now.
* * *
As they crunched through the piles of dead leaves on their way to Wonderland Park, an icy wind whipped through Sable’s jeans, and Rafe’s leather jacket that he’d made her wear when she’d forgotten to grab one for herself.
Turned out they couldn’t go into the park itself, as city engineers were running final tests on the rides, readying them to run during the Pumpkin Festival that weekend, so they headed to what they now called “their” playground.
Sable walked over to the swing and sat, the chains creaking ominously under her weight. And she shoved her hands deep into the wool-lined pockets of Rafe’s jacket. It smelled like him. All warm and clean and delicious. She drank it in deep, knowing that, depending on how this conversation went, it could be the last time she would have the chance for a long while.
Digging her nails into her palms so that she didn’t cry, when she looked up at Rafe he was standing over her, holding a tray of coffees from Bear’s. And he looked...uneasy.
“It’s freezing out here. And I’d love to get on the road soon so we can be back before dark. Maybe we should just take these home.”
Home. The Barn. Too many memories, new and old, swept over her, making her feel nauseous. “Not hungry.”
Rafe’s eyes narrowed. Then he placed the coffees on the dip at the bottom of the slide. Rubbed a knuckle over his cheek. Eyes locked onto hers. Waiting. As patient as time itself. Always giving her every second she needed to get to where she needed to be.
Why did he have to be so wonderful?
This was going to hurt like hell.
But keeping on as they had? Falling deeper and deeper? Watching him learn to love her again, while knowing he didn’t fully trust her, would only hurt the both of them more.
“I’ve been thinking,” she said, her voice cracking.
“About?”
“You know the new series I’ve been working on?”
She earned a single nod.
“Well, Nancy’s been bugging me about heading back over there, to New York. To talk about the concept with a couple of galleries who are showing interest. And while I’m there I thought I should really start looking at some places in Brooklyn.”
“Brooklyn.”
“In the street I told you about. Near the great schools.”
Rafe crossed his arms over his chest and looked out into the distance. Then he laughed. At first it was a shot of breath through flared nostrils, then it was actual laughter, then he finished with his fingers pressed into his eye sockets.
Sable nibbled on the inside of her lip and waited for him to speak.
“I guess I ought to be grateful you’re actually telling me this time.”
“Excuse me?”
“Come on, Sutton. We’re right back where we started. Is this some kind of test? Do you want me to tell you not to go? Do you want me to beg you to stay?”
His gaze flickered to her belly, where he thought she might be building a baby inside her right now. His baby. And the hope in his eyes was palpable.
She didn’t move. Not a single muscle. She was hurting so badly at the thought of having to tell him there was no baby, she couldn’t see straight.
If only she’d kept to her original plan. For it had been cool, calculated, devoid of attachment. It had put her needs front and centre. And now she was practically living with Rafe. Sharing her needs with his. Getting used to falling asleep in his arms. Falling for him all over again.
Falling? She’d fallen. Slowly at first, trying so very hard not to, and then all at once.
How could she not?
He was Rafe. Her Rafe. Once and always the absolute love of her life.
So if she cared for him that much, why was she putting him through this at all? How could she trap him into being connected to her in the most real way for the rest of their lives?
He’d not wanted this. He’d never wanted this! Yet he was doing it for her.
She was more upset about telling Rafe she wasn’t pregnant than she was about not being pregnant at all. Because deep down she knew, he’d always known, that she was the absolute love of his life too.
But if they were meant to be together, it shouldn’t be because of a baby. It should be because they wanted it. Despite any obstacles, or promises, or family influence.
This? Being together but not together. Pretending they were so sophisticated, mere friends with benefits. It was cruel and unusual treatment of someone she cared for more than anyone else in the world.
If he had changed, if he truly wanted this, he should have the chance to do it for real. To fall in love with someone he trusted implicitly, someone who had never broken his heart. To have kids when he was ready. The story of how his kids came into being one that would make them feel safe and wanted and loved.
If she truly loved him, she had to set him free. For good.
While Sable’s mind spun, Rafe swore, then pushed away from the slide. He came to her, grabbing the chains of the swing. “What do you want me to say, Sable? Do you want me to tell you I was so devastated when you left the last time that I broke three fingers when I punched that big old tree in your mother’s front yard? How I didn’t get out of bed for a week. That it took for Janie to finally get me up by asking for food when she hadn’t eaten for a day.”
Sable tried to swallow but her throat had closed up.
Rafe looked deep into her eyes. And said, “Stay. These past weeks... I didn’t expect, when I asked you to be with me, that it would be like this. I’d thought we’d be scratching an itch. That all that tension would dissipate over time and we could both move on. Instead it’s shown me what my life can be like, if I let it. That I haven’t been fully alive since the day you left.”
Sable’s soul sang, while her heart wept. If he’d said such words a decade ago, if he’d looked her in the eye and let his feelings pour out of him the way he was now, everything might have been different.
Only now it made her more determined to take care of him. To put his needs before hers. Not because it was easier. Or because she’d been brought up to make people like her. But because she loved him.
“I want you to stay,” Rafe said, his voice a deep rumble.
And he meant it. She was sure of it. Making this all the harder still.
Sable sat taller, held eye contact and said, “What if I told you there was no baby?”
Rafe flinched. “What do you mean, no baby?”
“What if I wasn’t pregnant?”
A shadow passed over his eyes. His gaze dropped to her belly. His brown furrowing as if he was trying to ascertain her truth.
Sable waited for his gaze to lift to hers. “Back at the beginning of all this, I said I trusted you but you didn’t say it back. Do you trust me now?”
His pause was telling. “Trust you in what way?”
“Every way.”
He ran a hand over his face. “Have I ever woken up, found the bed empty, and for a second wondered if you’ve gone? Sure.”
Sable felt heat rise in her cheeks. “More than once?”
Rafe sank into a crouch. His hands went to her shoulders, sliding down her arms to hold her by the elbows. His gaze locked onto hers and refused to let go. “You’re starting to really scare me now, Sutton. What’s going on in that head of yours?” he said, his
voice rough. “Talk to me.”
She swallowed. “I’m not pregnant, Rafe. There is no baby. I got my period. Just this morning.”
His eyes squeezed shut. Holding back emotion with such vehemence a vein bulged in his neck. “So why didn’t you just say that?”
Rafe’s eyes caught hers, searching, begging her to speak. To open up. But she was at the bottom of a well. His face at the top the only light she could see.
He swiped a hand over his face, stood, and turned away.
“What if—?” she started, then stopped.
He turned back to her, his face ravaged. “What if what?”
“What if a baby hadn’t been on the cards? Would you have let me in? Would you have taken me back?”
A muscle flickered at the edge of his eye. “Maybe. No. I don’t know. But haven’t these past weeks made it clear? You and me...we never needed a baby to bring us together. To be happy.”
Sable swallowed. Believing him. And hating it.
She blinked away the grit at the backs of her eyes. Her voice small as she said, “But a baby is what I want, Rafe. Not a relationship. And while I know we both came at this thing from the right place, I think, deep down, we both know what this really was.”
“And what is that?”
“Closure.”
Rafe reared back as if slapped. “So that’s it? One miss and you’re giving up on us?”
“Rafe, there is no us.” How she kept her voice gentle, she had no idea. For she could barely believe the words even as she said them.
“Harsh, Sutton. That’s too damned harsh.” Rafe looked as if he wanted to drag the thunder from the clouds hanging low and ominous overhead and throw it down upon the earth. “You know what? In all the years I’ve known you, that’s the first time I’ve ever looked in your eyes and seen your mother looking back at me.”
Sable pushed the swing back and twisted out from under the chains. Away from Rafe. Away from his glinting eyes. She felt so fragile, so pained. It was nearly too much. So she went into “Rafe mode”. Full statue. Giving nothing away. Something he’d learned at the feet of his father. Not that she’d tell him so. She had hurt him enough.
“There’s nothing I can say to change your mind,” Rafe said.
There was. But she was not about to ask him to tell her he loved her, that he’d always love her, that they were meant to muddle their way through whatever life threw at them, together. She’d asked too much of him already.
She shook her head and took a few steps away before his voice stopped her in her tracks.
“Where are you going?” he asked.
“To pack. Book my flight. Nancy will meet me when I get to New York.”
“Call me,” he said, his voice like sandpaper. “When you get there. Let me know you arrived safe.”
And this time Rafe was the one to walk away. In the opposite direction. Into the park.
His shoulders were hunched, his strides long. The mist in the air had turned to drizzle until it filled the air with grey, turning Rafe into a smudge in the distance.
Leaving Sable a clear path to head back towards town. Feeling empty. Lost.
But in cutting Rafe loose, in giving him a chance to find all that he truly wanted in time, she was certain she’d done the absolute right thing.
Maybe even for the first time in her life.
CHAPTER TEN
RAFE HAD NO clue how long he’d sat on the stool at the end of The Coffee Shop counter.
But when he looked up, it was dark outside. The rain had eased. The lights inside were turned down low. The front door sign was turned to closed. And his face felt hot from having been smooshed into his palms for ever.
“Another?”
Rafe turned his head on a heavy neck to find Bear at the end of the counter, hand-drying latte glasses. “Hmm?”
“You want another?”
Rafe looked down at the empty mug in front of him. Remembering, a sluggish beat later, it had contained gin and tonic. Perhaps more than one. Not his drink of choice. But it had done the trick. “Are you even licensed?”
“Are you a cop? I’m closed. I’m not selling it to you. Want some or not?”
Rafe pushed the mug out, asking for more. Bear wandered over and filled it halfway. Then filled a mug of his own, and held it out for a clink.
Rafe blinked at him. “Don’t much feel like celebrating.”
“Really? I’d never have guessed. You’ve been such chipper company this evening.”
“I’m never chipper.”
“I’d have agreed a couple of months back, but ever since a certain someone came back to town, I’d go so far as to say you’ve been downright giddy!”
Rafe shot Bear a look. It took his brain a few seconds to catch up to his eyes.
He was sloshed. Well and truly. Not something he’d let happen in a very long time, considering his father’s predisposition for drowning his sorrows. But right then, numb was better than the alterative.
Stunned. Sideswiped. Laid to waste. And so damned angry at himself for letting it happen all over again. By the same woman. And he’d been ready. He’d been waiting for it to happen. Not that telling himself I told you so made him feel any better.
“She’s gone,” he said, barely recognising his own voice.
“That so?”
A pause, then, “I’ve told you already?”
“Once or twice.”
“What else did I tell you?”
“Not much.” Though Bear’s eyes flickered away, meaning there had been plenty more.
Rafe figured he was unlikely to remember the conversation the next day as it was, so said, “You know we were...trying to fall pregnant.”
Bear smiled, a sad smile. “Whole town knows, mate. It’s the way these things go.”
“Well...it didn’t take.”
“Ah, man. That’s rotten luck.”
It was worse than rotten luck. It was soul-crushing.
When he’d told her he thought they could be happy if it was just the two of them, he’d been telling the truth. She was it for him. She was the one. Consuming and confounding and crazy-making as she was.
But once he’d crossed that bridge, he was in. All in. He’d wanted to have a baby with Sable. Not to donate sperm. He’d wanted to be with her as her belly grew. To fall out of bed exhausted at three in the morning to get her whatever weird food she craved.
To hold her hand, her gaze, her heart, as she gave birth.
To look into that baby’s face—he’d pictured his dark hair and Sable’s witch eyes—and feel the kind of love he could barely imagine. The love of a father and child. The love he knew he had within him, despite the lack of an example to look to.
He’d dreamed of them all together, snuggled up in a big soft bed. Sable more beautiful than ever, despite the dark smudges under her eyes from lack of sleep. He’d imagined baby gates and pet guinea pigs and presents piled under a real pine tree at Christmas time. While Sable took photo after photo after photo.
A life laid out before him like an old home movie. A life he’d craved so ravenously as a kid he’d have given a limb to even glimpse it.
“Sable saw it as more than bad luck. She saw it as an out. Wasn’t as keen to go the distance as she’d first intimated. So that’s the end of it.”
“But you don’t see it as bad luck.”
Rafe’s instinct was to go still, self-protect. But the gin had loosened up his usually rock-solid inhibitions. “I do not. I see it as...an experience shared. The kind that binds. That deepens.”
“You love her,” said Bear.
Rafe did not deny it.
Bear put his mug down, leaned on the counter, and looked out into the middle distance. “Life can be wholly unfair at times.”
“Preach,” said Rafe, reaching for his mug, on
ly for the scent to make his stomach turn. He pushed the thing away.
Bear gently replaced it with a very strong, very black, very sweet coffee. “So what now?”
Rafe breathed. And hardened. Adding yet another mental layer to the hard shell around his person. “Learnt from a very young age that life goes on. I wake up tomorrow, slide under the chassis of a beautiful old car and I do what I do.”
As he said the words he waited for the usual relief that came with work, and routine, and accomplishment to come with it. The counterbalance to the erratic instability of his childhood.
He waited to feel that sense of closure Sable had insisted they’d both been looking for.
But it didn’t come.
Sable. Miss Erratic. He’d never been sure if she’d turn left or right. If she’d say yes or no. If she’d stay or go. She should have been the last person to make him feel at home. But with all that came a huge heart. Emotions so close to the surface there was never any mistaking how she felt. An abundance of vulnerability that slayed him.
It must have hurt her like crazy, finding out she wasn’t pregnant.
Rafe had been too caught up in his own hurt to imagine how devastated she must have been. To wonder how much that had affected her decision to push him away.
Rafe ran a slow hand over his face, the callouses on his palm catching on the bristles on his chin as the heavy truth filtered through the fog filling his head.
The first time Sable had left had been on her. Her youth, her inexperience, her desperate desire to make her mother happy. She knew it. She owned up to it. Said this is me, this is how I roll, take it or leave it.
But this time? That was on him.
Do you trust me? she’d asked.
And he’d all but said, No.
He’d fallen into the trap of believing that the constant ache in his chest meant he didn’t trust her. When the truth was he had been in panic mode. In free fall. Falling in love with the woman in his bed.
Not the love of a messed-up teenaged boy, but of a man who knew the import and the rarity of such a connection, with the innate stubbornness to mess it up.
Rafe had always looked to his father as the anti-example of how to live a life. Doing everything not to be like him. But he’d neglected to realise the impact his mother’s leaving had had on his make-up.