Page 52 of The Rules Of His Baby Bargain

She tried to turn her face, knowing that if she could see his eyes it would be okay. Only he was staring transfixed at the candle.

But everyone else was looking at her.

In the blur of their faces she could feel their gazes drilling into her, sense their curiosity and, worse, their censure, and suddenly her heart was beating heavily, filling her chest so that it was difficult to find a breath.

She felt light-headed. Thin, sticky webs of darkness were clotting her throat, choking her, and then from somewhere close by she heard someone start to sing unfamiliar words to the most familiar tune in the world.

It was Charlie, his voice deep and assured. And then everyone was singing, and Archie was clapping, and she was forcing a smile, smiling until it hurt, wanting it to hurt, needing the pain to tamp down that other pain building inside her.

The rest of the party seemed to crawl past like a nightmare. She wanted to sneak away and curl up somewhere dark and private, but it was another hour before everyone left.

By then Archie was exhausted and, avoiding Charlie’s eyes, she used that as an excuse to escape upstairs.

Archie was too tired for a bath, so she dressed him in his pyjamas and then, instead of putting him in his cot, took him to her bed and lay down beside him.

The ache in her chest felt like hot coals now. All along she had assumed that it was stage fright—the intangible, strangling fear of performing to an audience.

But there had been only eight people at the party—nine, including Archie.

It wasn’t stage fright. And she couldn’t blame her parents. She was the problem. She was always the problem—the reason why things failed. Her parents had seen that in her.

Her heart contracted.

Della had seen it too. That was why her sister hadn’t made her Archie’s guardian in her will.

She could tell herself that it had been an oversight, that Della just hadn’t got round to sorting it out, but she knew deep down that there was only one explanation.

She closed her eyes against the hot sting of tears and the truth.

Della hadn’t believed she could do it—hadn’t trusted her to deliver when it mattered—and she had been right.

Look at this afternoon. All she’d had to do was sing to Archie on his birthday and she’d failed. If she couldn’t even manage that, how could she possibly raise him to adulthood?

Her body tensed. Across the room, she heard the door open—knew immediately it was Charlie, even before she heard his soft, firm tread. But she couldn’t look at him right now; she wasn’t sure if she could ever look at him again. So she kept her eyes closed, praying for him to leave.

She felt him reach past her and lift Archie, and even though she longed to keep holding his small, warm body against hers she knew she was being selfish. So she kept her eyes and her mouth shut.

The door closed and she breathed out shakily, but moments later the bed dipped beside her and she felt fingers—Charlie’s fingers—gently stroking her face.

‘Dora...’

She covered her mouth with her hand, holding her body tight with the other, trying to hold in the sobs.

‘It’s okay...’ he said softly.

‘No.’ She shook her head. She couldn’t bear the gentleness in his voice—couldn’t bear anything any more. ‘Just go, Charlie, please...just go.’

‘I’m not leaving you like this—’

‘But you will—’ She choked on a sob, trying to wipe away the tears that were streaming down her face. ‘Everyone does—everyone leaves.’

‘Not me. Not now. Not ever,’ he said softly.

And suddenly he was pulling her into his arms, pulling her close, then closer still, holding her against the firmness of his body. She could feel herself responding to his warmth, could feel the old longing to be held arching like a glittering rainbow inside her.

She missed being loved so much, and she was so lonely. But she couldn’t let that longing draw her in. Nothing would change the facts.

Pushing free of his arm, she shook her head. ‘You were right before. He will have a better life with you.’ She forced herself to look into his eyes, and then, before the ache in her heart could stop her from doing the right thing, she said quickly, ‘I want you to have Archie. I want you to be his guardian.’

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