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When, an hour later, I stood by Sadie’s bedside in another hospital, my gut twisting into knots as I stared down the barrel of a metaphorical gun, suspicion became certainty.
CHAPTER TEN
LOOKS MUCH WORSE than it is... Everything is fine, Mrs Xenakis. You just need to take it easy.
I repeated the doctor’s words to myself as the limo drove us home from the hospital a few hours later.
The ravaging pain shredding my heart had merely been put on hold in light of the scare in the bathroom. It was still waiting in the wings.
And even if I’d fooled myself into thinking it was in any way diminished, the tight, drawn look on Neo’s face testified that our conversation in the bedroom had merely been stayed.
That determined little muscle ticking in his jaw said it all. And it had only intensified with the doctor’s reassurance that our baby...our son...was fine. Thriving, in fact. That the blood I’d spotted in the shower was concerning, but ultimately nothing to stress over as long as I took it easy.
Why that news had triggered Neo’s ashen complexion and lockjawed determination only served to expand the stone lodged in my heart.
Had our conversation and the scare merely fast-tracked the inevitable?
We completed the journey home in tight, fraught silence.
When the driver shut off the ignition, Neo strode around to my side, offered his hand in silent command. I took it, stepped out, but when he leaned forward to lift me up I threw out a halting hand.
So soon after everything I’d experienced in his bed, and afterwards, having him so close would be detrimental to my emotional well-being.
The very thing I should’ve guarded against in the first place.
‘I can walk on my own. The doctor said to take it easy. I think that safely includes walking from the car to the villa,’ I said, unable to keep the tightness from my voice.
His lips tightened and he stayed close, unbearably surrounding me with his heat as I climbed the stairs to my suite, then perched on the wide, striped divan and watched the staff fuss with a tray of food and soft drinks Neo must have ordered before we left the hospital.
When the housekeeper lingered, Neo dragged an impatient hand through his hair. ‘Leave us,’ he snapped, authority stamped in his voice that saw his command immediately obeyed. He paced to the door, shut it, then returned, his footsteps heavy and resolute.
I knew what was coming. Unlike that postcard that had torn my world apart, this heartache-shaped wrecking ball I could see coming from a mile away.
‘Don’t do it. Whatever you’re about to say, don’t say it, Neo,’ I blurted.
He froze beside the bed, then dragged his hands down his face. Even with two-day stubble and shadows haunting his turbulent eyes, he looked sublime.
The man I craved more than was wise for me.
The man I’d fallen in love with as he glared at me from across his office, tossing bullet-sharp questions about marketing and then reproducing a birthday cupcake at short notice in the most stunning setting on earth.
‘Do you know what it felt like to see you there on that bathroom floor?’ he demanded raggedly, his voice rough to the point of near incoherence.
My pain twisted, morphed, as a new strand was woven into its jagged fabric. ‘Every pregnancy carries a risk. The doctor just said that.’
He gave a violent shake of his head. ‘It wouldn’t have happened if I’d kept my hands to myself! If I hadn’t pushed for more!’
‘You don’t
know that.’
‘I do. I feel it, Sadie. Right here.’ He pounded his closed fist on his midriff, his jaw tight with recrimination.
‘You think you’re something special?’
He inhaled sharply. ‘What?’
‘You think we’re the only couple who indulge in sex during pregnancy? That you deserve some kind of special punishment for doing something that comes naturally?’
