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Charlie scrambled across the bed and Marcus stepped forward to scoop him up. ‘Hey, little fella. I hear you’ve had a bit of an adventure since I saw you last.’
Charlie beamed and promptly grabbed a chunk of Marcus’s hair.
‘How are you, Mia?’
‘I am fine, and more importantly so is Charlie—thanks to Gemma and Blake. I don’t know how to thank them.’
April pulled herself together, took a seat by the bed and soon engaged Mia in conversation about the kitchen and how she could best help.
But all the while she was oh-so-aware of Marcus as he sat on the floor with Charlie. Her heart twisted as she watched them, and sheer relief that Charlie had survived collided with her grief that Edward hadn’t. Both events had been brought about by what seemed like chance—a collision of the planets, a string of circumstances that had resulted in joy and tragedy respectively. A child had lived and a child had died.
A child.
As she gazed at Charlie, so reminding her of Edward, somewhere in the deep recesses of her brain a warning bell began to toll.
Last night they hadn’t used anything...
She pushed the thought away, unable even to contemplate its enormity. Panic circulated in her veins like some deadly virus, and she forced her vocal cords to work, needing spoken words to drown out the reality that buzzed in her brain.
‘So there are more provisions in the cellar?’ she asked.
Mia cast her a curious look. ‘Yes, but I want to tell you about the oven—it is a little temperamental, but all you have to remember is...’
Focus.
But without thought April moved her hand to touch her tummy. Too late, she saw that Marcus was watching her, his dark eyes thoughtful, and she snatched her hand away.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
ONE SIMPLE GESTURE and the world had crashed around his head. How could he have been so stupid? Why had protection not so much as occurred to him?
Frantically he cast his mind back.
‘I don’t want to die, whether it is now or in fifty years, wishing I’d taken this opportunity to...to feel something. All bases are covered, I promise. No regrets.’
Had he been fool enough to take ‘all bases are covered’—that ambiguous phrase—as an assertion that she had contraception covered? Why had he not asked...considered...thought? He had no answer—not a one—because back then, cocooned from the storm, all that had mattered was the moment.
Worse than an adolescent.
Panic waved tumultuously in his gut as he tried to assimilate the possibility that April might be pregnant.
Chill out.
There was a chance that he had completely misinterpreted her gesture. He looked at April, noted the pallor of her skin, the twist of her hands in her lap.
Charlie gave a gurgle of protest and Marcus realised he had allowed himself to be distracted from the tower-building game they were involved in. Carefully he balanced the final brick, and with a huge beam Charlie swatted the tower over.
‘Craaaaaaash!’ Marcus said, and was rewarded by another smile.
Before they could embark on a repeat performance, an older woman entered the room. ‘Hi, Mama,’ Mia said from the bed.
‘Hi, sweetheart.’ The woman looked tired, but her smile was full of love. ‘Sorry I took so long. I needed to give Mrs Martini a hand back from the shops.’
‘No problem. Charlie is having a whale of a time.’
Marcus rose to his feet, scooping Charlie up with him. ‘Good to see you again, Mrs Hernandez.’
‘And you.’ She took her grandson, who tumbled happily into her arms.
