The Fiancé He Can't Forget (11 page)

She bit her lip, picturing him in a sea of dismantled pushchairs, and she just wanted to hug him. Or laugh.

She ended up doing both, and he wrapped his arms round her and hugged her back, and for a moment they just stood there in each other's arms and held each other.

She could have stayed there forever, but that really wasn't wise or practical, so she let him go and stepped back, before she got too used to it, and looked at the Moses basket again.

‘This is so pretty.'

‘It won't last long, he'll outgrow it in a few months. I nearly got a crib, but I thought you could carry this downstairs and put him out in the garden in it, or in the conservatory, or in the sitting room in the evening, even take him round to see Daisy—it seemed to have all sorts of possibilities that the crib just didn't, and it doesn't stop you having a crib later, or even now if you wanted to. You could just use it downstairs. And, yeah, I thought it looked the part,' he added with a wry grin.

His talk of taking it downstairs held huge appeal. ‘Can we take it downstairs and put him in it now? It's such a lovely day, and I've really missed the sunshine, being trapped in the hospital. It would be lovely to sit
in the conservatory with the doors open and just enjoy the fresh air, really.'

‘Sure. It's easy.' He looked pleased, as if he was glad his idea had met with her approval, and he lifted the basket, folded the stand and carried them both down.

She followed him more slowly, still a little tender, and by the time she'd taken Joshua out of the car seat and followed Matt through to the conservatory he was setting it up.

‘Here, out of the sun?' he asked, and she nodded.

‘That's lovely. Thank you.'

She laid the baby in it, and he stretched and yawned, his little arms flopped up by his head, the hat askew. ‘He looks pretty chilled,' she said with a smile, and Matt laughed.

‘Daddy's boy,' he said with a ridiculously proud grin. ‘I always used to lie like that, if the photos can be believed. Cup of tea?'

‘Oh, that would be brilliant.' She sat down on the chair carefully, her stitches pulling a little, and watched her baby sleeping. It was turning into her favourite occupation, she thought with a smile.

‘Better now?'

He was lounging in the doorway, arms folded, one leg crossed over the other, looking utterly at home, and she realised it would be only too easy to get used to having him around.

‘So much better,' she said, her words heartfelt. ‘Matt, I'm so grateful to you for all you've done this last week. You just dropped everything, and I never expected you to—

‘You didn't offer me the chance to discuss what I wanted to do, what role I wanted in your lives,' he
pointed out gently, trying to keep the simmering anger under control. Now wasn't the time. ‘I would have been here for you all along, Amy, if you'd given me the chance, but you always did like to go it alone.'

She looked down at her hands. ‘Not really. I just didn't know how to deal with it—after the night of Ben and Daisy's wedding it all seemed so complicated.'

Oh, yes. He was with her on that. ‘I wish I'd known. I would never have left you alone to cope, and you shouldn't have allowed me to.'

‘You didn't leave me alone to cope, I sent you away.'

He gave a wry laugh. ‘Yeah, you're good at that, aren't you?'

She frowned at him, puzzled. ‘What do you mean?'

‘When you were ill—out of it, really, and you thought it was Samuel, not Josh—you told me to go away then.'

She bit her lip; her memories of that time were so patchy and veiled in layers of what seemed like fog, but through it all she knew he'd been there, and she wasn't sure she could have coped without him.

‘I didn't mean it. I was so confused. I'm glad you didn't, I didn't really want you to go.'

‘Didn't you? It sounded like it. You sounded desperate, Amy. And I've heard you saying it before, don't forget, when things were about as bad as they could be. I left you alone then, too, and I shouldn't have done.'

She swallowed. ‘I didn't mean it then, either. Not really, not in that way. I just couldn't cope with your grief as well as mine, and the thought of a wedding so soon after we'd lost him—I just couldn't handle it. How could we have a party then, Matt? It felt so wrong. And if we'd known each other well enough, if we'd really known each other, we could have dealt with it, but
we didn't, we retreated into our grief and took the easy way out.'

‘Easy?'

She tried to smile. ‘No, not easy. Nothing about it was easy, but it was easier than talking to a stranger about something I couldn't even bring myself to think about. And you were a stranger, relatively. We'd only worked in the same department for less than a year before I got pregnant, and we were hardly ever on the same shift or working together because I was on the midwifery-led unit and you were in the high risk unit. We hardly ever met up at work, and because we were working shifts we didn't always see each other at night, either, so even when we were living together we were like ships in the night. It was no wonder we struggled to communicate when we were grieving.'

It was true, he thought. They'd thought they'd known each other, they'd certainly wanted each other and talked about getting married, but they
had
been relative strangers, and yet they'd been expected to cope with the loss of their baby. No wonder it had all fallen apart for them. But now…

‘Can we start again?' he said quietly, and she looked up at him, propping up the doorframe and looking rugged and kind and troubled, and she felt a flicker of apprehension.

If she said yes, if she let him back into her life, she'd run the risk of losing him again.

And if she didn't, she realised, she'd lose him now.

She took a deep breath.

‘We can try,' she said carefully, and something flared in his eyes, something he quickly banked. ‘I'm sorry I
didn't tell you I was pregnant, but I was so afraid things would go wrong again.'

‘Yeah. Ben said you had no confidence in your pregnancy.'

‘Would you have done, in my shoes?'

He smiled wryly. ‘Probably not. In my own shoes, had I known, had you told me, I like to think I'd have been rational about it.'

‘Are you saying I was irrational?' she asked with an edge to her voice, and he sighed and crouched down beside her.

‘No, Amy, I'm not saying that at all. Your reaction was perfectly natural and understandable, but maybe if I'd been with you I could have helped to reassure you.'

‘And if it had happened again? If we'd lost Josh?'

His eyes flicked to the baby, and a spasm of pain showed on his face.

‘No. I didn't think so. We didn't cope with this before, Matt, and there was nothing to suggest we'd cope with it any better a second time.'

He nodded. ‘I'm sorry. I'm not very good at sharing my feelings.'

She laughed at that, a sad little hiccup of laughter that twisted his heart, and he straightened up and moved away, giving them both space. This wasn't going to be as easy as he'd imagined, he realised. No dropping seamlessly back into their old relationship, as if they'd just cut out the last five years and joined the ends together.

‘About the next few weeks,' he said, getting back to practicalities because it was far easier than pursuing the other topic. ‘I don't want to overcrowd you, and I don't want you to feel abandoned, either. I have to go back to London on Monday for a couple of days, and then I'll
be back, and we can see how it goes. I'll try and give you space, and help with Joshua, and if it all gets too much you can kick me out and I can go and see Ben and Daisy and Thomas, or I can go back to London for the night and give you room. We'll play it by ear. Deal?'

She searched his eyes, and found only sincerity and a genuine desire to make this work. The rest could wait.

‘Deal,' she said, and she smiled. ‘Can we have that tea now? I'm parched.'

 

Ben and Daisy came round a little later, bearing plates of food and bottles of sparkling water.

‘Just because we ought to have something fizzy to wet the babies' heads, and half of us can't drink,' Daisy explained, hugging Amy and bending over Josh and making besotted noises.

‘He's so tiny! He's like a mini-Thomas! Oh, I want a cuddle. Hurry up and wake up!'

‘No! He's only just gone back to sleep!' Amy said sternly. ‘You leave him alone this minute and come and tell me all about Thomas. I feel dreadful abandoning you just after you had him.'

‘Oh, Amy.'

She hugged her, told Ben to open the fizzy water and Matt to find glasses, and Amy sat there and cuddled Thomas and wondered how much better it could get.

Two days ago, she'd been in the depths of despair. Now, she was back home, her closest, dearest friends were with her, and she and Matt were going to see if they could make their relationship work.

That still filled her with a certain amount of trepidation, but she knew half of the butterflies were excitement at the prospect, and she tried to forget about it, to put it on one side and concentrate on enjoying the moment.

One day at a time, she told herself yet again, and took a glass of fizzy water from Ben and they toasted the babies. And as she lifted her glass, she met Matt's eyes over the top of it and he winked at her, and she thought,
It's going to be all right. We can do this. We can.

 

‘That was my parents. They send their love.'

Ben and Daisy had gone home with Thomas and she'd just settled Josh in his crib when Matt came back into the sitting room, slipping his phone into his pocket. She'd heard it ring, and she frowned at what he said. ‘They know you're with me?'

‘Well, of course they do. Why wouldn't they?'

Why not, indeed? ‘Have you told them about the baby?'

He gave a soft, disbelieving laugh. ‘Amy, I've just become a father. Of
course
I've told them. I told them days ago.'

Well, of course he had. How stupid of her. They were a very close family, and Ben had just had a baby, too, which they would have been eagerly anticipating, and so they would all have been on the phone frequently. He was lucky to have them. So lucky…

He sat down on the sofa opposite her and searched her eyes. ‘Amy, I know you've lost both of your parents, but have you told any members of your family?' he asked gently, and she shook her head.

‘Not yet. I didn't want any of them to come over and have hysterics when they saw me, I just didn't need it. It's not as if I ever see my aunt or my cousins. I thought it would be better to tell them when it was all settling down and we knew the baby was all right.'

Not to mention her, he thought, because he'd had a
few hours there where having hysterics wouldn't have been out of the way. ‘You have a point. You looked pretty rough at first.'

She laughed, to his surprise. ‘
I
looked rough? Did you not look in a mirror?'

He smiled acknowledgement. ‘Touché,' he said. ‘I needed a few hours' sleep and a shave, but you—Amy, you worried me.' His smile faded as he remembered the sheer blind terror that had gripped him when he'd thought she might die.

‘Was it really that bad? That close?'

He nodded, and swallowed hard. ‘Yes, it was really that close, my love. You scared me half to death. I thought I was going to lose you.'

No wonder she'd been so out of it, she thought. She hadn't realised it had been that bad—although if she'd been thinking clearly she would have worked it out for herself from the state of him and the time that had elapsed and how high her blood pressure had risen.

‘Oh, Matt,' she said softly, and he got up and came over to her and sat beside her, tucking his arm round her and dropping a light kiss on her hair.

‘It's OK. It's over now, and you're getting better. I'm sorry, I shouldn't have told you. I didn't want to worry you.'

‘You didn't—not for me. I know I was in good hands. You and Ben wouldn't have let anything happen to me.'

They might not have had any choice, of course. They both knew that, but by tacit agreement the subject was dropped. Joshua was asleep, Matt had put soft music on and she rested her head against his shoulder and let herself enjoy the moment.

J
OSH
woke at three.

Amy had fed him at eleven, and Matt had changed his nappy, put him in a clean sleepsuit and tucked him up next to her bed in the Moses basket while she'd used the bathroom.

And now he was awake again.

Prising his eyes open, Matt threw off the quilt and went into Amy's room. She was just stirring, about to get out of bed, but she looked sore and uncomfortable, and he tutted and eased her legs back up onto the bed and handed her the baby, tucking a stray lock of hair behind her ear with gentle fingers.

‘You feed him, I'll get you a drink. Do you want decaf tea or herbal something, or just cold water?'

She gazed at him a little blankly. ‘Tea?' she said hopefully, after a moment. ‘Tea would be fabulous if you can be bothered, but you don't have to—'

‘Don't argue, Amy. You've had far too much your own way. Now it's my turn to do the worrying.'

He left her alone with the baby, and she stared down at him while he suckled, his eyes firmly fixed on her in the dim light from the landing, his tiny hand splayed across her breast. She slid her thumb under it and it
closed around her, and she stroked the back of his hand with her fingers, smiling down at him in wonder.

She was getting used to him now, getting used to how small he was and yet how determined and how very, very good at getting his way.

Just like his father, she thought wryly, and looked up as Matt came into the room and put the tea down on her bedside table.

He hovered for a moment, another cup in his hand, and she sensed he was waiting for the invitation, so she shifted her feet across and patted the edge of the bed. ‘Stay,' she said softly, and he smiled, a fleeting quirk of his lips, and sat down at the end of the bed, watching her thoughtfully.

‘How's the feeding going?'

‘Well. Considering the start he had, he's amazing.'

She tucked her little finger in the corner of his mouth and eased him off, then held him out to Matt.

‘Here you are, little one, go to Daddy. Want to wind him? Since you're so good at it,' she added with a smile, so he put his tea down and took the baby, and she shuffled up the bed a bit more and drank her own tea while he walked up and down, rubbing the baby's back. And as he walked, she watched him longingly.

He was dressed—if you could call it that—in soft jersey boxers, and the baby was propped against his bare shoulder, looking impossibly tiny against that broad chest. One large hand was holding him in place, the other stroking his back gently, and the tenderness of the gesture brought tears to her eyes. ‘That's my little lager lout,' he said proudly as the baby burped, and she chuckled and blinked the tears away.

Matt turned and caught her eye, still smiling, and then he surprised her.

‘Thank you,' he said, serious now, the smile gone, and she frowned at him in confusion.

‘For what?'

‘For having him? For going through all that alone, when you must have been so frightened. For mistakenly, misguidedly trying to spare me if things had gone wrong again. But not thank you for keeping me out of the loop, because I would have been here for you all along, Amy, if you'd only given me the chance.'

She felt another stab of guilt, but she'd done it for the best reasons and there was no point going over it again. ‘Don't be daft, you work in London, you would have just been down there worrying and bullying Ben for hourly updates.'

He smiled wryly and brought the baby back to her side.

‘You might be right, but you still should have told me.' The smile faded, and he gave a heavy sigh and ran his hand through his hair, spiking it wildly. He looked tousled and sexy and unbearably dear to her, and she took Josh from him and settled him at the other breast, suddenly self-conscious under his searching gaze.

Not because of the feeding, but because her hair must be all over the place, she had dark bags under her eyes and her tummy still looked like a bag of jelly.

But he didn't look as if he cared. He didn't look as if he was seeing any of that. Instead he gave a fleeting frown, picked up the cups and headed for the door.

‘Call me when you're done, I'll change him and put him down for you,' he said, and left her alone.

He took the cups down to the kitchen, put them in
the dishwasher and rested his head against the wall cupboard above it, his hands braced on the edge of the worktop.

He wanted her. Not like that, not at the moment, because she was still recovering from the eclampsia and the surgery. But he was overcome with longing—the longing to get into bed beside her and ease her into his arms and hold her, just hold her while she slept. He'd held her last night, on the sofa, her head on his shoulder and her soft breath teasing his chest in the open neck of his shirt.

It had felt so good to have her in his arms again, so right. But there was still a gulf between them, a wariness on both sides because of all the heartache and grief they'd shared and yet not really shared—and they still hadn't.

They had a long way to go before they could pick up the threads of their old life together, and he knew that, but he was impatient. They had so much going for them, and so much depended on the success of their relationship.

Not least the happiness and well-being of their son.

He heard the boards creak, and with a heavy sigh he pushed away from the worktop and headed upstairs. This he could do. The rest—the rest would come.

They just had to give it time.

 

Daisy took her stitches out on Saturday morning, which made her a lot more comfortable.

Matt had offered, but somehow it seemed extraordinarily intimate, and Ben was hardly any better, even if he'd put them there after the section and had a professional interest in his handiwork. She still felt uncom
fortable about it, so Daisy did it for her, and then they had coffee together in the garden with the babies at their sides. And for the first time in years she felt like a normal woman again, doing the things that normal women did instead of standing on the outside looking in.

There was still a core of pain inside her for the loss of Samuel, and she supposed there always would be, but that was fine. She wouldn't have it any other way. He was still her son, always would be, and she was entitled to her grief.

Thomas started to fuss, so Daisy took him home and Amy left Matt with Josh in his Moses basket and went upstairs and had a look through the things Matt had bought—on her instructions. It seemed she hadn't been thinking quite as clearly as she'd imagined, because it had soon became obvious that the list she'd given him had some vital elements missing.

One of the most important, as Matt had pointed out, was a pram. She was still feeling tender, still walking carefully, but it was a beautiful day, and it would have been a good day for taking him out for a little stroll to the park nearby, only they didn't have a pram.

She. She
didn't have a pram. They weren't a ‘they' yet and might not ever be, so she'd be crazy to let herself start thinking like that.

There were also other things—very personal things—that she needed, and there was no way she was asking him, obstetrician or not! And it wasn't fair to keep asking Daisy…

He appeared in the doorway, tapping lightly and sticking his head round. ‘Somebody needs his mum,' he began, and then took one look at her and said, ‘What's the matter?'

‘What makes you think something's the matter?' she asked, taking the baby from him, and he laughed.

‘The look on your face? You're like an open book, Amy. So come on, let's have it.'

‘I need to go shopping.'

His eyebrows shot up. ‘Shopping?'

‘For baby stuff. I was thinking, it would be nice to go out for a walk with the baby, but we don't have a pram.'

He rolled his eyes and sat down on the bed, sprawling back against the pillows as if he belonged there. Sadly not…

‘You're going to take me pram shopping, aren't you?' he said faintly, and she started to laugh.

‘You great big wuss, you can cope with it!'

‘Twice? Dear God. I tell you, I shall have a lot more respect for women in future!' He tipped his head on one side and his face gentled. ‘Are you sure you're up to it?' he asked softly. ‘It's only been eight days.'

‘I think so. I'll be careful.'

‘Too right you'll be careful. I'll make sure of it. So when do you want to go?'

She sighed. ‘I'd say as soon as I've fed him, but that seems to be pretty unreliable as an indicator of how long we've got before he wants more.'

‘He's hungry. He's catching up.'

‘Well, at least he eats like you and doesn't pick at his food!' she teased. ‘Head down, get on with it, get it over.'

He smiled. ‘It's only because I've spent so many years in hospitals and if you want hot food you have to grab the chance. So, if you feed him now and I make us something to eat while you do that, and then we make a dash for it as soon as he's done, we've probably got long
enough to get part-way through the first pram demonstration—'

She threw a pillow at him, which was silly because it hurt her incision, but it was satisfying.

He caught it, put it down and shook his head.

‘Steady, now. No pillow fights.'

Her breath hitched. They'd had a pillow fight once, and she'd lost—if you could call it that. She'd ended up under him, pinned to the bed by his long, solid leg across her, her hands manacled above her head by his firm, strong fingers, and he'd slowly and thoroughly plundered her body.

Matt watched her from the bed, his heart thudding slowly, the memory that was written clearly across her face still fresh in his mind. He'd held her down, and slowly and thoroughly explored every inch of her, and she'd loved every second of it—

Josh began to cry in earnest, yanking him back to reality, and he got off the bed and headed for the door. ‘Why don't you feed him and I'll make you a drink and something to eat, and then we can go.'

He left her to it, getting out before he said or did something inappropriate, and as he reached the bottom of the stairs he heard her door close softly. He let his breath out, went into the kitchen and put the kettle on, and stared blankly into the fridge.

They needed a supermarket shop—and he needed an urgent appointment with a psychiatrist. Thinking about Amy lying naked beneath him was hardly the most sensible or intelligent thing for him to focus on at the moment—or ever, possibly.

He made some sandwiches—cheese and pickle, be
cause that was about all there was and she could do with the calcium—and then carried them up to her.

He'd seen her breastfeeding loads of times, but suddenly—because of the pillow fight remark?—it took on a whole new dimension. He put the plate and cup down on the bedside table next to her and left her to it, taking his out into the conservatory so he could try to focus on something other than Amy and her body.

 

The pram shopping was every bit as mind-boggling and confusing as it had been the first time, but Amy took it in her stride. It seemed to make sense to her—women, he thought, must be hard-wired to that kind of stuff—and within an hour she'd chosen a travel system that seemed to do everything except fold itself.

And it had a baby seat that used the same base he had for his car, which meant greater flexibility. Excellent. It would be delivered on Monday morning, and all they needed now were the other things on her list, so she sent him off with Josh to browse.

‘I need some things for me,' she said, colouring slightly in an endearing way that made him want to smile. He restrained himself until he'd turned away, just nodded and left her to it, the baby seat hanging from his hand. He was getting used to it, to the looks they were getting, the oohs and aahs because Josh was so tiny—and such a beautiful baby. Or was that just paternal pride? He looked down and met those staggering blue eyes staring up at him, and beamed. Nah. He was gorgeous. The pride was justified.

He glanced back and saw her examining a nursing bra, and he closed his eyes and tried not to think about her body. Inappropriate. Concentrate.

He took Josh to look at cots instead—travel cots, for starters, so they could take him down to London with them and stay in his house there on occasions. He hadn't discussed it with Amy, but he knew it was a possibility, so he found the same assistant who'd been so helpful over the buggy and was talked through the folding cots.

And it dawned on him very rapidly that this baby, tiny though he might be, was going to make a significant difference to his life. Starting with his car.

He sighed. He'd only had it four months, but it simply wouldn't fit all the paraphernalia of a baby on the move.

He glanced across at the underwear department and spotted her at the till. Good, because they had a lot to do. Or he did. Starting with the joys of the supermarket, and leading on to a little light surfing of estate cars on the internet.

His phone beeped at him, and he slid it out of his pocket and frowned at the screen. It was a text from Ben, telling him that their parents were coming down tomorrow for a flying visit. He blew out his breath, estate cars forgotten. He'd thought they were leaving it till next weekend, but apparently not. He glanced across at Amy again. He wasn't sure if she was up to such an emotional and stressful day. Not yet, but if they were coming down especially…

And then just to complicate it even further, Josh started to cry. He swung the baby seat by the handle, long slow swings to rock him off again, but he wasn't having any and Matt gave in.

‘Come along, little man, let's go and find your mummy,' he said, and headed towards the tills.

She heard them coming, the new-baby cry going
straight to her breasts and making them prickle. Damn. She'd forgotten breast pads. ‘Over there,' the assistant said, and she grabbed a box and put it on the pile.