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He rushed up to the obstetrics and gynaecology department, heart pounding...
There were more delays there—more being kept waiting, pacing up and down. He focussed on one thing, and one thing only—getting to Mel. And then finally—finally—he was allowed to see her.
She was in a side ward, blessedly on her own. She was conscious still, but her face was pale—apart from the grazing on her cheek from where she’d collapsed on the tarmac after the impact. Her face whitened yet more as the nurse showed him in.
He rushed up to her—then stopped dead.
The expression on her face had stopped him in his tracks. She was looking...stricken.
He felt a hollowing out inside him. Horror washed through him again as he saw in his head that nightmare moment when the car had struck her and she’d crumpled like paper.
Then another emotion seared through his head.
His eyes fastened on her, desperate to read in her gaze what he absolutely, totally had to know. He heard in his head her terrified cries down in A&E.
‘My baby,’ she’d cried—and he could hear her cry still. ‘My baby! Oh, please—please don’t let my baby be gone. Please, no—please, no!’
Relief, profound and infinitely grateful, had ripped through him that at that moment—at that moment of extreme danger to her baby—she had realised she wanted it. Realised how precious it was. How precious she was.
‘I nearly lost you—I nearly killed you...’
He took a jerking step towards her. Saw her expression change.
‘Oh, God, Mel—I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.’ The words burst from him.
Words shaped themselves on her lips. Were uttered with difficulty and strain and a terrible emptiness. ‘You thought I wanted to kill my baby.’
It wasn’t an accusation, only a statement. But it came from a place he didn’t want to exist.
He swallowed. ‘I know—I know you don’t. I heard you, Mel. I heard your terror when you came round—you were terrified for your baby.’
He saw her hand move slightly, unconsciously, to lie across her abdomen. Sheltering. Protective.
Emotion stabbed within him. ‘Mel, I—’
His voice was jerky, but hers cut right across it.
‘How could you think that, Nikos? How could you?’ Her eyes were piercing—accusing. Horrified.
A rasp sounded in his throat. ‘You said yourself that you didn’t want to be pregnant. That it would be an end to your freedom.’ He took a ragged breath, memory searing through him. ‘And I kept remembering how you told Fiona Pellingham that you didn’t want a baby now—’
Her face worked. She acknowledged the truth of what he’d just said—knew she had to face it. ‘That was my first reaction, yes—but it wasn’t the only one, Nikos. Truly it wasn’t. But it was so...so complicated.’
Complicated... Such a weak, pathetic word to describe the searing clash of emotions that had consumed her as she’d stared at that thin blue line on the pregnancy testing kit.
They were there still, consuming her. Anguish churned inside her that Nikos should think...should think...
He was staring at her. ‘You were on your way to an abortion clinic—I saw the appointment letter.’
Her face contorted. ‘It was an antenatal appointment. That’s all it was! To have a check-up before I fly to Spain tonight. How could you think it was for anything else? How could you?’
She took a shuddering breath.
‘My old GP is miles away, and I’d have had to wait days for an appointment. So the woman at the charity made an appointment for me at a mother and baby clinic.’
He was staring at her still. Still not making sense of things. ‘It’s a pro-choice charity,’ he said, his voice hollow. ‘They arrange abortions for women who have pregnancies they don’t want.’
Her features were screwed up. ‘Yes, they do, Nikos. But they also help with all the other alternatives, as well. Like single-parenting—raising a baby alone.’ Her expression changed again. ‘How do you know I went to that charity?’
He took a deep breath. This wasn’t the way he’d thought it was going to be—this moment of finding her again. Shock still reverberated through him—shock upon shock. He remembered the terror as he’d read the report that had totally changed everything—for ever. It had given him the most wonderful gift he could imagine—and threatened to tear it from him in the same moment.
Mel—carrying his child.
Mel—wanting to destroy their child...
Mel—crumpling to the ground as the car hit her, nearly destroyed by his accusation.
Cold snaked down his spine like iced water as he realised how hideously close he’d come to losing everything—everything he was most desperate to keep.
