Page 86 of Where the Wattles Bloom

‘What? No.’ She put a stilling hand on his arm as he gathered up the bakery bags. ‘It’s fine. I’m fine. It’s so lovely here. Eat your cannoli. Silvano’s probably got his binoculars trained on us.’

Lachlan laughed. ‘Probably.’

She reclined then, the rolled top of the bench seat supporting her neck and angling her head back. Sighing, she shut her eyes, obviously settling in, so Lachlan pulled out the cannoli and devoured it as he watched the fountain do its thing.

‘Good?’ she asked when he was done, her eyes still closed.

‘Better than the first one, if that’s possible.’

‘Entirely possible. I reckon he uses cocaine instead of icing sugar to dust them with.’

Lachlan laughed at the idea and then they were both laughing. He glanced at her. Her eyes were still shut and she was looking the most relaxed he’d seen her in a long time.

‘So,’ he asked, their laughter cutting out, ‘did the scan help?’

Her eyes slowly opened and Lachlan immediately wished he could take the question back. It had been such a great morning, and he’d gone and reminded her of her issues.

Way to go, doofus. Ruin the moment, why don’t you!

But she didn’t close up. She didn’t slam down the shutters. She just rolled her head to meet his gaze. ‘Yes, it did, actually. Thank you.’

Lachlan breathed a little easier. ‘No. Thank you.’

She nodded and he thought she was going to shut her eyes again and that would be that, but she didn’t.

‘I’ve been so fixated on getting too attached. Worrying that seeing the baby, hearing her heartbeat, would make any loss unbearable. Protecting myself, I guess. But—’

Whether it was subconscious or purposeful, her hands slid to cradle her belly. Lachlan’s palms itched to join them.

‘Seen or unseen,’ she continued, ‘losing her would be devastating.’

On that Lachlan could concur. He’d be devastated, too.

But he wished he could take the yoke of such terrible pessimism from her shoulders. Or at least talk with her about what had happened in her past to have it be so ingrained. She’d mentioned her infertility and her IVF struggles and losses, but not in any depth.

What she’d been through had obviously shaped her, but he didn’t know enough to understand her thinking or how to take a load off. Maybe she’d talk to him now?

‘I hope you know you can talk to me,’ he said, tentatively, searching her gaze as he picked his way through what felt like a minefield. ‘About Archie. And the IVF and …’ Christ, he was not equipped for this. ‘The embryos that never made it. Anything, really … I can’t pretend to know what you’ve been through, but I’d like to understand so I can be there for you.’

She regarded him for long, long moments. ‘Anything, huh?’

Lachlan nodded. ‘Anything.’

Her gaze broke away, wandering to the fountain. Easing herself up from her slouch, Rowena hinged forward at the hips, her elbows resting on her thighs. He sensed she was grappling with something big and all he could do was wait.

Just when he thought her silence was going to go on forever, she spoke. ‘I had an abortion.’ She looked over her shoulder at him. ‘When I was fifteen.’

Well, Jesus. He hadn’t expected that. ‘Okay.’

She slid back and half turned in the seat, her eyes meeting his. ‘I was really scared. Definitely not prepared to be a mother or even contemplate going through with a pregnancy. My parents certainly didn’t want me to.’

‘Hey.’ He lifted his hand and brushed away a stray slice of hair that had fallen across her face. ‘You don’t have to justify this to me, Ro. I’m not judging you. If I’d been pregnant at fifteen, I’d have an abortion too.’

A humourless laugh tumbled from her mouth. ‘If I could just turn back time, you know?’ She contemplated the fountain again. ‘I’d have been less laissez-faire. I was so … stupid. So careless.’

Lachlan slid his hand onto her shoulder, her guilt a force field around her. ‘You were fifteen.’

She shrugged his hand away, which only made Lachlan feel more wretched. ‘I was old enough to know what I was doing.’