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He wasn’t chasing success; he was running away from failure. Because Jacob Foster was scared. Deathly afraid of screwing up. That was why he’d worked so hard to show her the trappings of success, not knowing that what she really wanted was to have her husband with her. This was why he’d avoided a family, not realising what Clara herself had only learned once Ivy had come into her life: that children, family and the love they brought were what made failure bearable, what made every setback something you could recover from.
Jacob had missed out on four years of Ivy’s life. But, if Clara was right, if she could convince him that one teenage mistake didn’t have to ruin his whole life, was there a chance that he might not have to miss any more?
And did she have the courage to find out? She wasn’t sure.
‘All these years,’ she said slowly, choosing her words with great care, ‘you’ve been blaming yourself for this?’
‘It was my fault,’ Jacob reiterated. ‘Of course I have.’
‘Does Heather hold it against you? Your father? Your mother?’ Clara knew the family, and she thought she knew the answer to two of those questions. But she wasn’t quite sure about the third.
‘Heather...I’m not even sure how much she remembers. And Mum won’t talk about it, ever, so I don’t know how she feels.’ Clara felt sure that they would have forgiven him long ago. But that wasn’t enough, not if Jacob hadn’t forgiven himself. And if Sheila wouldn’t talk about it... Clara could understand that. Of course Sheila would want to protect her daughter, and try to block out the memories of her being hurt. But, by refusing to talk about it, she might not have realised how badly she was hurting her son.
‘What about your father?’ James Foster was a fair man usually, but one with exceptionally high expectations. Why else would Jacob have gone to such trouble putting together a perfect Christmas for him?
‘I... Like I said. He calls it our lucky escape,’ Jacob said. ‘I think it reminds him of how quickly things can change. Once Heather was home from the hospital...he made me make him a promise. A promise to never screw up like that again. And I haven’t.’
He’d lived his whole life trying not to fail. What would that do to a person? What had it done to Jacob?
‘At least, not until you walked out that last time,’ he added.
The words flowed like cold water over her. He considered their marriage his personal failure. Well, of course he did; she could see that now. But before today...she hadn’t been sure he had cared that much at all.
‘Me leaving...that wasn’t just your failure, Jacob. We were too young—we wanted different things. That’s all.’ Except now she was imagining the life that they maybe could have had, if she’d known his secret sooner. If she’d understood, been able to convince him that blaming himself wasn’t getting him anywhere... Was it too late for that now?
‘I really thought we were supposed to be together, you know.’ The wistful tone of his voice caught her by surprise. ‘That’s the only reason I risked it. I knew I couldn’t take responsibility for a child again, but I thought that maybe, just maybe, I could take care of you. But I was wrong.’
Clara’s heart twisted. She couldn’t leave him like this, believing this. She had to help heal Jacob’s heart, even if it was the last act of their marriage. But dare she try to show him another life, one where he didn’t have to be so scared of failure? Where love could be his, no matter what went wrong? Where forgiveness was automatic?
Did she even believe that love was possible any more?
She wasn’t sure. But, for Ivy’s sake, she knew she needed to find out for certain.
One night. That was all she had to give. One night to find out if there really could possibly be a future in which Jacob might choose to be a part of his daughter’s life and maybe even forgive Clara for keeping her existence a secret from him.
One night to find out if their marriage had a future after all.
By the time the snow cleared she needed to know for certain, one way or the other.
She was almost scared to find out which it would be. But, for her daughter, she’d take the risk.
Clara swallowed around the lump that had formed in her throat.
‘Come on,’ she said. ‘I’ve lit the fire in the main sitting room. Let’s take some food and drinks through there where it’s more comfortable. We’ve got a long, cold night ahead of us.’
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
JACOB SCRUBBED A HAND over his face as he stared at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He needed to get a grip. Clara was waiting out there, probably with a glass of something, definitely with a romantic fire lit and festive food. He needed to focus. He needed to figure out how not to mess up whatever happened next.
It was too late for Heather. The scars he’d caused would be with her for life; he’d accepted that long ago. He was just thankful she was here. And as for his father... Jacob had limited time. He would never be able to make up for the mistake of his youth, and he couldn’t personally change the weather forecast, as much as he might want to right now.
All he could do was work with what he had. And right now that was... Clara.
Why had he never told her about Heather before? Perhaps because he didn’t want his wife to know his deepest regrets and mistakes. She’d always looked at him with such love and adoration before their marriage. Awe, even.
It was only once the vows had been spoken that she’d discovered exactly the sort of man he was. And she’d left him, without even knowing his deepest shame.
Maybe she’d always had a better understanding of who he really was than he’d given her credit for.
Could he change that?
He needed to ask her about Ivy, he realised. It was strange; he’d only known that he was a father for a couple of hours but already that knowledge was buzzing at the back of his head, every moment, colouring his every thought. He just didn’t quite have a handle on how he felt about it yet—at least, not beyond the initial terror.
At least Clara understood at last why he couldn’t be a father.
And now...what? What did Clara want from him now?
And would he be able to give it?
It was time to find out.
‘I’ve put the oven on for some nibbles,’ Clara said, smiling at Jacob as he opened the door. ‘Remind me to go and put them in to cook when my phone buzzes?’
‘Sure.’ He took the glass of wine she offered him and returned her smile as well as he could.
‘I figured that maybe we should go for something a little more easy-going than the hard spirits, seeing as it is still only barely half past four,’ she said.
‘Ah, but it is Christmas Eve,’ he pointed out. ‘Everyone knows that wine o’clock comes earlier on Christmas Eve.’
‘Which is why we’re having wine. Not brandy.’
‘Fair enough.’
She grinned, raised her glass, and the last of the tension he’d felt lingering from the emotional exchange in the kitchen evaporated. How did she do that? Clara had always been able to make him relax, but usually it had involved a rather different range of techniques. But now he was starting to think it had just been her, that the massages or the sex or even the wine had just been accessories, a mask, even, that was hiding the truth.
Clara just made him feel better.
How had he forgotten that over the past five years? How had he forgotten how it felt to be the centre of her world? To have her focus all that love and attention on him?
And, more to the point, what had he done to earn it back now?
‘So, we’re stuck here,’ Clara said, settling onto the sofa in front of the promised roaring fire. ‘At least until tomorrow at the earliest.’
‘Are you okay with that?’ he asked, suddenly more aware that this wasn’t just his own personal disaster. Clara had Christmas plans that had been ruined too. It might have taken him a while to catch up, but now he needed her to know that he wasn’t just thinking about himself.
‘Not really.’ Clara plastered on the most falsely cheery smile he’d ever seen. ‘But it’s the situation, and we can’t change that. So we just need to figure out how to make the most of it.’
Her smile settled into something a little sadder but more real. Something more familiar too. And suddenly he had an idea of exactly what they might do to pass the time...and it wasn’t very in keeping with their divorce plans.
