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‘Is that what you want?’He sounded as if he hadn’t spoken in years.
Of course that was what she wanted.Because it would be what he wanted, what would be best for him.‘It’s what’s right.It was all only for the baby, Blake.I’m so sorry.’She glanced out across the water.‘All those things you bought for the nursery.We shouldn’t have bought them so soon.Such a waste.’She shook her head.‘No.We can donate them somewhere, can’t we?’
She sat, utterly frozen inside, as he listened.Not challenging.Not putting up any kind of fight.She’d been right.It was what he wanted.‘There’s no need for us to be tethered together any more.You should be free.’
She would never be free.
Blake ran and ran and ran.The soft sand sucked at his feet, wanting to drag him down.He was already down and his body was burning from the fight.He wanted to punch the demon who had taken their baby from them.He cursed the gods who had allowed this to happen.Horror filled him as he relived the moments with Cally on the deck.When he’d understood how much life had bled from her.And she didn’t want him.Now there was no baby, she had no need of him at all.She wanted to end their marriage, to move out.
He’d sat there stunned into silence.He’d never felt so gutted—as if his heart had just been ripped from his body.So much for not being able to feel more pain.It was only now that she was trying to end it that he realised how badly he wanted her to stay.How much he cared.He wanted to hold her, to cradle her close and cry with her.He wanted to work through this together—not alone, not letherbe alone.
He’d let her down.He should never have gone away.He’d been off having a little time out from a situation that had been spiralling tornado—like way out of his control.Why hadn’t he seen it all sooner?It wasn’t all about the baby.It was all about Cally.And then, when she’d needed him, he hadn’t been there.Now she didn’t want him there at all.
Just as he’d finally recognised how badly he needed her.How much shemadehis life.
She’d looked to him with her dry, desolate eyes and he hadn’t been able to help her.He hit empty air with his fists as he forced himself to go harder along the pristine coast.Raw pain hounded him, making him go further, faster.Until sweat ran in thick trails, stinging his eyes.Until his heart hammered so loudly in his ears and every breath hurt as he dragged it in.Until his body was so pushed to the edge he stood by the sea and retched.Until the only thing he could think of, the only thing he heard, chanting over and over in his head wasCally, Cally, Cally.
Suddenly, desperately, he had to see her, to put his arms around her and hold on tight—so tight she couldn’t escape, couldn’t block him out.He had to break through the wall she’d built in these last few days.He had to comfort her somehow.He had to make her see that as a team they had so much—that itwasn’tall just for the baby.That they were good together and shouldstaytogether.And maybe, sometime, they could try again.He’d try anything if he had Cally by his side.With her he could be strong.He wanted to share—wanted her to share the tears he knew she hadn’t shed, the grief that he also felt.
He had to stop her leaving.He had to talk to her.If they didn’t talk, the silence, the unspoken trauma, would tear them apart.He didn’t want that.He wanted to make it right—as right as it could be.And he finally saw that so long as he was with Cally,reallywith her, it would all be very, very right.Together they could cope.
At last he had a plan.He’d go back to her now—why the hell was he out running anyway?He’d tell her how much he cared, how beautiful she was, how much he needed her, wanted her, loved her, and that he didn’t want their marriage to end.Why hadn’t he done it before?Why had he been so stupid?
There was the very large, very real possibility she’d throw it all back at him.Not be interested.Not want to listen.And she would destroy him in a way Paola had never had the power to.Cally held absolute power over him.She had his heart entirely.He loved her.He desperately, utterly loved her.He’d been such a blind fool thinking it was merely a convenient blend of chemistry and circumstance.
He was more vulnerable now than he’d ever been in his life or would ever be again.But still he had to take the risk.Because if he didn’t it wouldn’t be a life worth living.
He ran all the miles back even faster, adrenalin and fear driving him.It had broken his heart that they’d lost their baby.It would break him completely if he lost her too.He ran through the house, up the stairs, back down, into the pool house, shouting and shouting and shouting her name until he was hoarse, all the while knowing.
She was gone.
Fourteen
For a few moments there,a few days ago, Cally had thought she might have it all—a husband, a baby, a career to create anew.And then, just like that, it fell apart.It was funny how in one moment life could be changed irrevocably.The moment Blake had stepped onto that stage had been the first change.Her miscarriage had been the final.
Now, she’d lost her baby, the miracle she’d thought she’d never have in the first place, she’d given up her company, and she was married to a man who she loved, but who would never love her.Like and respect, sure, but not the all-consuming, deeply passionate love she had for him.In fact their paths would never have crossed if she literally hadn’t paid for his attention.
She choked back the emotion.Not going to wallow.Not going there.There were millions in the world worse off than her.She had money, she’d never worry about where her next meal came from…
But the futility, the lack of purpose, the utter despair of her existence ate at her as she marched through the day automaton-fashion.
There was no such thing as a happy ending.Not for Cally.No one had it all.
She drew on her reserves.Thin as they were.She had obligations.And she would meet them.She hadn’t been to the shelter in weeks—the longest time she’d ever had away from it.She’d go, if only for a few hours, to a place where she could at least pretend she was needed for a while.To forget her own desolation, try to find her perspective, try to find a way that could be her future.To stand where she’d worked alongside her dad all those years ago, peeling potatoes and having a laugh.How she’d have loved to show her own child the life lessons to be learned there.
The other volunteers greeted her with warm smiles and concern in their eyes.She knew she looked a wreck, and explained that she hadn’t been well.Some of the regular drop-ins chatted with her, checked if she was okay, and she felt touched that these people, who were finding their own lives enough of a struggle, had the strength and empathy and kindness to be able to ask after her.She wanted to do the same for them in the one way she could.She made her way to her most comfortable place, the kitchen, and asked to be left to get on with the preparations for the evening meal.Sensing her need for space, the others left her in her own corner, knife, board and vegetables in hand.
She didn’t know how much later it was when she looked up, but she was stunned by his white face, hollowed eyes and sweat-filmed skin.
‘Are you okay?Are you sick?’Her heart started pumping, strong beats of blood and panic.She’d never seen him look so pale, so physically ill.
‘I’m okay.Now.’
He was looking at her with a curious expression.She couldn’t figure out if he were angry or sad, relieved or reproachful or what.
‘I thought you’d gone.I had to phone Mel.I think she thought I’d lost it.’He took in a deep breath that wobbled halfway.‘I nearly had.’
In that one instant her hope, irrepressible, flared.It soared high and she hardly dared breathe.She tried to squish it.Looking back to the board, she picked up the oversized knife again and sliced it through the onion.
