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‘Margo...Margo.’ Leo was holding her hand, his face close to hers. ‘It’s going to be okay. Agapi mou, I promise—’

My love. The words didn’t move her now, didn’t matter at all. ‘You can’t promise anything,’ she said, and turned her face away.

The next few minutes passed in a blur as the ambulance arrived, siren wailing, at a hospital on the other side of the Île de la Cité—one of Paris’s oldest hospitals, a beautiful building Margo had walked by many times but never been inside.

Now she was rushed into a room on the emergency ward, and doctors surrounded her as they took her vitals yet again. She could see Leo standing outside, demanding to be allowed in. A doctor was arguing with him.

Margo felt herself sliding into unconsciousness, one hand cradling her bump—the only connection she had to the baby she was afraid she’d never meet.

‘Madame Marakaios?’

A doctor touched her arm, bringing her back to wakefulness.

‘You have had a placental abruption. Do you know what that is?’

‘Is my baby dying?’ Margo asked. Her voice sounded slurred.

‘We need to perform an emergency Caesarean section as your baby is in distress. Do you give your consent?’

‘But I’m only twenty-seven weeks...’

‘It is your child’s only chance, madame,’ the doctor said, and wordlessly Margo nodded.

What else could she do?

They began to prep her for surgery and Margo lay there, tears silently snaking down her face; it appeared she wasn’t that frozen after all.

And yet neither was she surprised. Wasn’t this what happened? You let people in, you loved them, and they left you. Her baby. Leo.

The last thought Margo had as she was put under anaesthetic was that maybe it would have been better not to have trusted or loved at all.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

LEO PACED THE waiting room restlessly, his hands bunched into fists. He hadn’t been allowed inside the operating room and he felt furious and helpless and desperately afraid. He couldn’t lose their son. He couldn’t lose Margo.

He wished more than ever that he’d had the courage to tell her he loved her. Three little words and yet he’d held back. He’d held back in so many ways, not wanting to risk rejection or hurt, and all he could do now was call himself a fool. A frightened fool for not speaking the truth of his heart to his wife.

If Margo made it through this, he vowed he would tell her. He would tell her everything he felt.

‘Monsieur Marakaios?’ A doctor still in his surgical scrubs came through the steel double doors.

Leo’s jaw bunched and he sprang forward. ‘You have news? Is my wife—?’

‘Your wife and son are all right,’ the man said quietly, ‘although weak.’

‘Weak—?’

‘Your wife lost a great deal of blood. She is stable, but she will have a few weeks of recovery ahead of her.’

‘And the baby? My son?’ A lump formed in his throat as he waited for the doctor to respond.

‘He’s in the Neonatal Intensive Care Unit,’ the doctor answered. ‘He’s very small, and his lungs aren’t mature. He’ll need to stay in hospital for some weeks at least.’

Leo nodded jerkily; he didn’t trust himself to speak for a moment. When he had his emotions under control, he managed, ‘Please—I’d like to see my wife.’

Margo had been moved to a private room on the ward, and was lying in bed, her eyes closed.

‘Margo?’ he said softly, and touched her hand.

She opened her eyes and stared at him for a long moment, and then she turned her head away from him.

Leo felt tears sting his eyes. ‘Margo, it’s okay. You’re all right and our son is all right.’

‘He’s alive, you mean,’ she said flatly.

Leo blinked. ‘Yes, alive. Small, and his lungs aren’t mature, but he’s stable—’

‘You can’t know that.’

‘The doctor just said—’

She shook her head.

Leo frowned and touched her hand. ‘Margo, it’s going to be okay.’

She withdrew her hand from his. ‘Stop making promises you can’t keep, Leo.’

Helplessly Leo stared at her, not knowing what to say or do. ‘I know it’s been frightening—’

‘You don’t know anything!’ She cut across him, her voice choking on a sob. ‘You don’t know what it’s like to lose everything again.’

‘But you didn’t—we didn’t—’

‘I want you to go.’ She closed her eyes, tears leaking from under her lids and making silvery tracks down her cheeks. ‘Please—please go.’

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