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‘If I had been at home last night none of this would have happened,’ Elspeth said plainly, finally meeting his gaze with a stony expression.
Fraser rose from the bed and came over to her, bringing the thick bedspread with him and wrapping it around them both. ‘Everything’s going to be okay,’ he said, kissing her on the lips and praying that she would respond.
She softened a little and warmed under his touch, her mouth moving gently against his as he pulled her closer, holding on tight.
But as he deepened the kiss she pushed him away. ‘We should go,’ she said when they broke apart, her expression cold.
When she had kissed him, the fear had receded a little, but it was rushing back now. ‘When do you need to leave?’ he asked.
Elspeth glanced at her phone, checking the time. ‘As soon as we can.’
She breathed a sigh of relief when he nodded.
He sat on the bed for another few moments, watching Elspeth pack. What had happened in this room while he had been sleeping? He’d closed his eyes late last night—early this morning?—with Elspeth breathing warm and soft on his chest and her bump pressing gently against his hip. And he had woken to an empty bed and the beginnings of the relationship they’d worked so hard for looking more fragile than ever.
He knocked on his father’s bedroom door, his bags in his hand, and explained what was happening, and then they were crunching across the driveway, trying to get some heat into the car, chase the ice from the windows.
He glanced across at her as he drove, watched her withdraw into silence, and he wanted to pull her into his arms. Everything seemed so much simpler when he was touching her.
He reached for her hand and gripped it tight, trying to show her how much he wanted this to work. ‘It’ll be okay, you know,’ he said, trying to start up the conversation that had gone cold back in her bedroom.
‘You don’t know that,’ she said, her voice devoid of emotion. ‘You can’t know that. You don’t understand.’
He didn’t know what to say to that. Didn’t know how to reach her now she had decided to shut him out. No, he didn’t understand her—because she wouldn’t let him in. He wanted to know her. Wanted to be a part of her life, a part of her family. But she needed to want that too. He couldn’t support her if she wouldn’t let him.
Finally they pulled up outside the home that she shared with her mother and her sister and he turned to look at her. Wondering if, at last, she would find some explanation for what was happening between them. Give him some hope that this wasn’t going the direction he feared.
She had pushed him hard this weekend, forcing him to face up to the decisions—the mistakes—he had made in his life. And he’d worked hard to reach a point where he could picture himself with someone. Moving towards those big, scary feelings that had always had him running scared in the past.
And now what? Was she going to prove that he had been right all along? That he would have been better never getting involved with her?
‘Thank you for driving me back,’ she said, as if she were reading from a script, and reached for the door handle.
Fraser sighed, opened his own door, and then pulled her bags from the back of the car and brought them round to where she was standing on the pavement, digging through her handbag for her keys.
He dropped the bags at her feet, and before she could protest cupped a hand around her cheek.
‘Please,’ he said. ‘Don’t decide anything now. Don’t go into your head and make this go away. I’ll stop by tonight and we can talk.’
She hesitated, but he pressed a gentle kiss to her cheek.
‘Remember this,’ he instructed, his voice low, his breath on her ear, unable to drag himself away from her. ‘Remember last night. Remember what we are to each other when we are together like this. This feeling—it’s important. Don’t give up on it yet.’
She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, and for a moment Fraser thought she would turn him down. Again. Instead she tensed her shoulders. Looked up and met his gaze.
‘Okay. Let’s talk tonight.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
ELSPETH SAT IN the quiet house, her hand resting on her bump, trying to take stock of the last twenty-four hours. When they’d driven up to the Highlands such a short time ago she had been so sure that a relationship with Fraser—with anyone—was nothing short of impossible. Then, last night, it had seemed inevitable.
But she had watched the sun rise as they had clocked up the miles this morning and her certainty, her faith in her decision had faltered. Now she was sitting here knowing that when Fraser returned she would break their relationship off, and feeling unsure of how she would live with herself when the deed was done.
As soon as they’d got back, Elspeth had jumped straight in with Sarah’s daily routine—taking the splints off Sarah’s hands and legs, teasing out her tight muscles with gentle wiggles and hard stretches that made her wince.
Elspeth had soothed Sarah through it, as she always did. She knew exactly how hard she could press and pull, which fingers would be most painful to straighten, when Sarah would need a break to catch her breath, with an understanding and an intimacy that an agency carer could never reproduce.
Now she had helped Sarah to shower and dress, brushed her hair and vacuumed her wheelchair, Elspeth still needed to keep busy. She’d hoped she could spend an hour chatting with her sister, but Sarah needed to study and had asked Elspeth to leave her in peace.
