Page 32 of Wounded Hearts

“Lucy’s strong, she’s got this.”

“I know, but with the trouble we had conceiving and then the sickness, it’s made me jumpy.”

“I totally get that. This baby is wanted and already so loved that it’s bound to make you nervous.”

“You’re right, this baby is so loved, and Lucy is my everything. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”

Drew chuckled at the mixed response. That answered little and yet so much. He wondered if he’d feel the same if it was Mara and realised he would. Yet his Mara had already been through the shocking loss of two babies she’d desperately loved. How had she coped going through that alone and afraid of the very man who should protect her? Drew wanted to kill him with his bare hands at the thought.

“You have the same look in your eyes I did when I was falling for Luce,” Jace said with a chuckle.

Drew glanced at him with a curious look. “How do I look?”

“Like you want to kill any other man who looks at her, let alone hurts her.”

“I just can’t conceive how anyone could hurt someone as sweet as Mara. Let alone the fact he said he loved her.”

“I actually thought you two would get together when Luce and I got married.”

“Maybe we would’ve but the hostage thing happened, and we got derailed. Although by all accounts, she was already with Wells.”

Jace just nodded. “Maybe this is your second chance?”

“Maybe, but I’m worried about scaring her off.”

“Let her lead. She’ll let you know when she’s ready for more.”

“Surely it’s too soon? It’s been less than a week.”

“You say that, but whatever she felt for him died long ago. Now it’s about readjustment and learning to live again, and what better person than someone who has been through that himself and cares for her like you obviously do.”

Drew gave Jace’s words more thought as they continued towards Fortis and again later that night.

* * *

Placingthe box on the kitchen table, Drew stepped back and assessed it. He and Mara had just arrived home, and she’d already put the pasta on the hob to boil. They’d settled into a routine of sorts whereby he cooked breakfast and she made dinner. He’d objected at first, wanting to look after her, but she’d been firm in that she wanted to do something helpful and she was a good cook.

“Prawns and chicken okay with your linguine?” Mara turned to him as she spoke, a tea towel already thrown over her shoulder. She looked natural in his space, like she belonged there, and it was becoming increasingly difficult to imagine his life with her not in it.

“Perfect.” He smiled, turning back to the box and examining it. Trepidation mixed with a kernel of excitement rolled in his belly. He felt her move behind him, her hand landed softly on his shoulder, and he wanted to turn and pull her closer so there was no space between them at all.

“I can see why she loved it.”

Her murmur was soft, but it was the words that caught Drew’s attention. He glanced at her, noting her appreciation for the box in the warmth of her eyes. “What makes you say she loved it?”

Mara looked up at him and he noticed the gentle blush creep across her cheeks before her eyes left his. He saw the ingrained brainwashing seep in as if she regretted speaking at all. Drew turned and she went to move away but he caught her and gently pulled her towards him. Placing a hand on her hip, he lifted her chin with the other, so she looked at him. What he saw there stirred so many emotions it was hard to pinpoint the most prominent. Fear, pain, self-doubt but also a desire to trust and a flicker of the woman she’d been before.

“Mara, don’t ever think I don’t want your opinion on anything. If I ask, it’s because I genuinely want to know what you think. Your thoughts are precious and if you want to share them with me, then I’m honoured to listen.”

He saw the pleasure light her eyes and felt her rigid body relax at his words. “I know it won’t be quick or easy, but I hope one day you can trust me and believe I’d never hurt you.”

He felt the hiccup as her eyes glistened with unshed tears. “I do trust you, deep down I know you’re a good man, a kind one. I see it with every single interaction I witness but sometimes it’s as if the conditioning just drags me under.”

Drew stroked his hand over her cheek, wiping the tear that had escaped with his thumb and wanting to take her pain away with every fibre of his being.

“It feels like drowning, like I can’t breathe.”

He pulled her to his chest and held her while she cried. “If I could take it all away from you I would.” His voice felt gruff as he said the words, his own emotions close to the surface tonight.