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id looked empty and meaningless now. “What the hell... He’d just said he’d never leave me like that again.”
“Rowan, take a breath, don’t upset yourself so.” Nan was looking pretty upset herself. She’d given him the benefit of the doubt and the outcome had obviously got to her too. “He might’ve had a good reason to go,” Nan added, her shoulders lifting.
Rowan paced up and down, shock turning to anger. “You say he took his stuff?”
“All he had was the motorbike bag he arrived with, and it’s gone with the bike and him.” Nan’s face told the full story. She hadn’t wanted to announce this.
The bastard. Rowan thought she’d been upset about his attitude the first time around, but after the last two days, she was absolutely livid. One minute he’s making promises, apologizing, talking about a future together, the next…pfft. Gone. What hurt most of all was he’d shot off so bloody quickly she hadn’t even had time to explain that Pixie was his.
Her hands fisted, her fingernails digging sharply into the palms. “What the fuck? Sorry, Nan, language.”
Nan shrugged. “Exceptional circumstances.”
Rowan crossed her arms across her chest and then grabbed the back of the armchair again, her emotions all over the place. “Bloody hell. How could he do this after…” She caught Nan’s worried expression. “Sorry for swearing, Nan, I’m just in shock. Can’t believe it. The things he said, and like a fool I believed him!”
“I know. I thought you two were getting somewhere.” Nan sighed and began tidying up, plumping cushions. “Something must have spooked him.”
“Wait.” Rowan stared around the room and darted into the hall. “Where’s Pixie?”
“Kitchen.”
Running into the kitchen, she saw the buggy was there.
Her hand went to her chest.
Nan followed her. “She’s having a nap, she’s oblivious.”
“Oh God.” Rowan’s hands shook as she reached for Pixie. She thought twice about it and decided to let her snooze. She didn’t want to let the best part of the day pass, didn’t want to admit how broken this made her feel. “I was just about to tell him that she...”
She wiped her eyes on the back of her hands and groaned loudly.
“Shall I put her in her cot until tea time?”
“Thanks, but I’ll do that. Sorry I’m such a mess, Nan.”
Nan put her hand on Rowan’s shoulder and then pulled her into a cuddle. “Take your time, sweetheart. We don’t know much about his situation, he did say he only wanted a bed for the night.”
Groaning aloud again, Rowan pulled free of the cuddle. “Yeah, yeah, and I suppose I should be grateful I got today.” And last night, she added silently, wistfully.
“I’ll put the kettle on.”
Pixie began waking up, making grizzly noises when she found herself trapped in the buggy.
When Rowan saw her upturned face, it was even harder not to see her mind image of Sean. It’d always been the case, ever since Pixie first opened her eyes. She was cursed for the rest of her life. She would look at her child, and see the father who couldn’t hang around for more than one night. The tears came, and she couldn’t hold them back this time. She went to Pixie, lifted her into her arms hugged tightly. “Mummy’s here, sweetheart. Don’t fret, Mummy is here.”
Without another word to Nan, she carried Pixie upstairs to her room.
Stepping over to the infant’s familiar cot, she sat down on the nearby nursing stool, and rearranged Pixie on her lap. Pixie was still sleepy, although she was fighting it and Rowan looked down at her, smiling through her tears. “Your dad might be a complete loser, but at least I have you.”
Pixie cooed at her.
Grateful at least one of them was happy, Rowan mustered a smile.
Pixie started wriggling in her arms, trying to reach out for something. “Which one do you want?”
Rowan looked back at the cot and there, amongst the cuddly toys, she saw a white envelope with her name scrawled on it in Sean’s handwriting.
Letting Pixie loose in her playpen, she reached for the envelope. A note, he’d left a note. She silently mouthed a string of curses. “Some feeble excuse about catching up with the guys, I suppose.”
