AllFreeNovel
Share Us
The electricity between them was still there. He just wasn’t acting on it.
And for some strange reason it hurt.
She knew it was all her fault. She hadn’t reacted when he’d told her that he loved her. She’d stayed silent, and he must have been hurt by that. But what could she do? What could she offer him? A woman with an altered body? Someone who hadn’t yet reached the golden ‘five years cancer-free’? The chance to have no natural children of his own? Lincoln was a gorgeous, handsome man. He deserved to have a better future than the one she could offer him.
She already knew that he was becoming more attached to her and Zachary. If the last few weeks hadn’t been so hard she might have got her act together and done something about it.
But she hadn’t. And now here she was, in his apartment, with her baby son.
She felt an arm at her waist, but it was a casual movement, not an intimate one. Zachary’s eyes were starting to close, so she pulled off his padded jacket and laid him down in his crib for the first time, leaning back against Lincoln to watch his eyelids finally flicker shut and his little body relax.
‘It’s been a big day.’ His voice was warm, comforting, like a big blanket enveloping her.
‘It has.’ She sighed as she pressed the little night-light next to the crib. His first night home from hospital. Should she really be feeling so terrified?
‘Want me to make dinner?’
All of sudden she felt exhausted. She wanted to lie down in the bed next to her son and watch him sleep. She wanted to watch his little chest rise and fall. She wanted to stretch her hand through the bars and let his little fingers wrap around her big one so they could hold each other while they slept. She shook her head. ‘I’m not hungry, Linc. I just want to lie down.’
He gave her waist a little squeeze. ‘You’ve got to keep your strength up. I have it on good authority that babies are hard work. How about I make you something light like scrambled eggs?’ His hand lifted up and stroked the back of her neck in a soothing motion. ‘It will take five minutes then you could soak in the bath if you wanted.’
A bath. A deep-filled bath overflowing with lavender scents and bubbles. That would be sheer bliss. She hadn’t had a bath since she’d had Zachary. She always seemed to be racing in and out of the shower. It had seemed quicker, more convenient. This could be perfect.
She gave a little nod. ‘Scrambled eggs would be good.’ She stepped over towards the en suite bathroom and picked up the bottle of dark purple bubble bath, opening it, tipping a generous portion into the white roll-topped bath then turning the tap on full blast.
Ten minutes later, tummy full of scrambled eggs and a baby soundly sleeping, Amy stepped into the water and slid her body beneath the bubbles.
She would have a think about things tomorrow—sort everything out in her mind. Everything would seem clearer then and she would think about what to say to Lincoln. She could make plans about returning to Santa Maria and finding a paediatrician for her son. She would eventually have to think about childcare for Zachary—who would want to look after a baby that had been born premature? She would need childcare that could be flexible around her shifts. Would she be able to find anyone to do that? Maybe she should find a different job? Even the thoughts exhausted her. Tonight she just wanted to relax.
‘Amy!’
The sharp knock on the door woke her with a jolt. Her brain took a few seconds to focus, obviously a few seconds too long because the door opened and Lincoln stuck his head through the gap. ‘Is everything okay?’
Amy had sat bolt upright with the knock on the door, leaving her breast above the bubbled waterline and her flat side exposed. Her hands flew to her chest and she ducked beneath the bubbles again. ‘Lincoln! Don’t come in, I’m still in the bath!’ Her cheeks flamed red. She must have dozed off as the water was now lukewarm. She leaned forward to grab a fluffy towel from beside the bath.
He must have seen her scar. He must have seen the empty side.
Lincoln pulled back. The panic on Amy’s face was evident. He hadn’t meant to embarrass her, he’d just wanted to check she was okay. Then he stopped. Took a deep breath, stepped into the bathroom and closed the door behind him.
‘Lincoln! What are you doing?’
‘Something I should have done weeks ago.’
He bent forward and picked up the towel she was grappling for, holding it open in front of him. ‘Come on.’
Her flaming cheeks burned even harder. ‘You’ve got to be joking.’
‘No. I’m not.’ His voice was firm and determined. He gestured with the towel once more. ‘Come on, Amy.’
‘No.’ Her voice was sharp and to the point.
He stared at her.
‘Don’t, Lincoln. You’re making me uncomfortable.’
He knelt down next to the bath so his face was level with hers. ‘I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable, Amy. But this is an issue between us—you know it is. I’m not here to upset you. I’m your friend. I’m here to support you. Now, get out the bath so we can talk about this. Take the first step.’ He held the towel out again.
Her bottom lip trembled. She didn’t feel ready for this. She wanted to pull her knees up to her chest, tuck her chin on top and hide her body from the world. Why couldn’t he be plain? Why couldn’t he be ugly? Would that make it easier? Would it be easier to bare your blemished body to someone who didn’t reek of perfection?
She bit her lip, a sheen across her eyes. Take the first step. How did he know exactly what to say? She had to be brave. He was right. He was getting right to the heart of the matter. It was an issue. She just didn’t know if she could handle this.
There was only one way to do this. She had to try. She owed it to herself to try. She closed her eyes and stood upright, stepping out the bath almost simultaneously and moving across into the comfort of the white fluffy towel. He wrapped it around her and she caught the edges of it, pulling it closer and tucking it around her before she opened her eyes.
He gestured to the side of the bath. ‘Sit down.’ He picked up another towel and dried her bare legs. Had he even had a chance to get a proper look at her scarred body? What had he thought?
His arm went around her shoulders, escorting her from the bathroom and into his bedroom. His bedroom. She hadn’t set foot in this room the whole time she’d been staying here. She felt the breath catch in her throat as he guided her over towards his bed, then her heart plummeted as he stood her in front of the free-standing, full-length mirror next to his bed. He raised his hand and pulled the cream blind at the window, plunging the room into semi-darkness, with some of the early evening sun still filtering through the blind.
All of a sudden she didn’t feel so exhausted. Maybe the nap in the bath had revived her, but she didn’t think so. Her blood was racing around her body. Why did this feel so natural? Why wasn’t she terrified?
She’d been planning to leave. She’d been thinking about telling Lincoln a million reasons why she and Zachary shouldn’t stay there. So why did this feel as though it should happen?
‘Now.’ He guided her in front of the mirror, standing behind her with his hands at her waist. ‘What do you see?’
‘What do you mean?’
His voice radiated calm. A man totally in control, who knew exactly what he was doing. ‘I want you to look in the mirror and tell me what you see.’
She turned to face him. ‘I can’t. I don’t want to do this any more.’
