Читать книгу Surprise Baby, Second Chance - Therese Beharrie - Страница 11

CHAPTER THREE

‘DO YOU HAVE any intention of offering me a drink?’ Rosa asked when she turned back and saw Aaron sipping from a glass. It was filled with golden liquid, the kind she was pretty sure would help steady the nerves fluttering in her stomach.

‘What do you want?’ he asked flatly.

She almost winced. ‘Whatever you’re having is fine.’

He nodded and went about making her drink. She walked towards him cautiously and then busied herself with putting the bottles from the counter into the cabinet beneath. It wasn’t necessary, but it was a way to keep her hands busy. Especially since something about his expression made her want to do something remarkably different with her hands.

Or was that because the clothing—the lingerie—had reminded her of all the times she’d wanted to seduce him? Of all the times it had worked?

Her hands shook and she waited for them to steady before she packed the last bottle away.

‘You don’t have to do that.’

‘I know.’

But I was thinking about all the times we made love and I needed a distraction.

‘Do you think your mother left something for us to eat?’

‘Try the fridge.’

She did, though she wasn’t hungry. Again, it was just because she wanted something to do. To distract from the ache in her body. From the ache in her heart.

She found the fridge fully stocked.

‘How nice of her,’ Rosa said wryly. Her patience with Liana had dropped dramatically after the seductive clothing thing. And now, finding the fridge filled with food, she couldn’t deny that Liana had planned this any more.

She’d indulged Liana over the years she’d got to know the woman. Understandably, she thought, considering Liana’s history with her mother. With her, during Violet’s declining health. And...after.

But Rosa had let that influence her view of Liana’s actions. Actions that Rosa had condoned by not speaking out. She wouldn’t let that happen again—once they got out of their current situation.

‘It’s full?’

‘Yeah.’ The hairs on her neck stood when Aaron moved in behind her to look for himself. ‘There’s this dish—’ she took it out, handed it to him—anything to get him away from her ‘—which I assume is something readymade for this evening. And the rest is ingredients to make meals. Eggs, vegetables, that sort of thing.’

‘There was some meat in the freezer.’

Rosa closed the fridge. ‘She’s thought of everything, hasn’t she?’

‘She generally does,’ Aaron said and handed her the drink. She braced herself for the contact, but it didn’t help. A spark flared anyway. She’d never really been able to come to terms with the attraction she felt for him. That she’d felt for him since day one.

Or with your love for him, a voice whispered in her head, reminding her of why she’d had to leave—before either of those things had tempted her into staying.

Staying wouldn’t have done either of them any good.

‘She just doesn’t think about consequences.’

‘Oh, I think she knows.’ She removed the foil that covered the top of the dish and found a rice and chicken meal of some kind. She took out two plates and, without asking him if he wanted any, dished portions for both of them. ‘That there are consequences, I mean.’

‘But she never stops to consider what those consequences might be.’ His voice was steady, but there was frustration there. He’d never been able to hide it completely when he was talking about his mother. ‘You know how many times I’ve had to deal with consequences that weren’t favourable. Like the time she gave her car to a guy she met at a conference she attended.’

Rosa nodded. ‘She thought it would be easier for him to get to his job in the city if he had a car. And that would make sure he didn’t lose his job, and that he’d be able to look after his family.’

‘Instead, the man still lost his job because he couldn’t drive, and he ended up selling the car, which then got him into trouble with the police because she hadn’t transferred the car into his name.’

‘And you had to sort it all out,’ she said softly. The microwave sounded, and she handed Aaron the heated plate before putting in her own. ‘I’m sorry, ba—’

She stopped herself. She’d been about to call him ‘baby’. And it wouldn’t have been like the ‘honey’ he’d called her when she’d first tried to leave. No, that had been said sardonically. This? This would have been said lovingly. Endearingly.

It was because of the routine she’d slipped into. Dishing for him, heating his food. Normal parts of what had been their life before. But that life was gone. She’d walked away from it. It didn’t matter why or how—she had. Which meant accepting that she couldn’t just slip back into routine.

The microwave finished heating her food and she used it as an excuse to turn her back to him. To ignore the emotion that was swirling inside her.

‘You didn’t change,’ he said into the silence that had settled in the room. She took her plate and drink to the couch and tried to figure out how to sit down without the slit revealing her leg.

‘No,’ she replied after a moment, and then gave up and lowered to the seat. She set her food on the coffee table in front of them, covered as much leg as she could and then took a long sip of the drink before she answered him. ‘As I predicted, there were only a couple of shirts in there and jeans. The jeans wouldn’t fit me.’

He settled at the opposite end of the couch. ‘You could have worn one of the shirts.’

She lifted a brow. ‘And that wouldn’t have been...distracting?’

‘What you’re wearing now isn’t?’

His eyes lowered to the leg she’d been trying to cover, and then moved up to her cleavage.

‘I’ll go change,’ she said in a hoarse voice, setting her drink down.

‘No, you don’t have to.’

His gaze lifted to her face, though his expression didn’t do anything to help the flush that was slowly making its way through her body.

‘It’s probably for the best.’

‘Are you afraid I’ll do something neither of us wants?’

‘No.’

Because both of us would want it.

‘I just think it would be better for us not to...cross any boundaries.’

‘Are there boundaries?’ he asked casually, though she wasn’t fooled by it. She could hear the danger beneath the façade. ‘I didn’t realise a married couple had boundaries.’

‘That’s not quite what we are now, though.’

‘No? Did I miss the divorce papers you sent to me while you were in Cape Town?’

Bile churned in her stomach. ‘There are no divorce papers.’ She frowned. ‘You knew where I was?’

He nodded. ‘I needed to make sure you were okay.’

She closed her eyes. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t think—’

‘That I’d want to know that you were alive?’

‘I took my clothes. I thought—’ She broke off as shame filled her. ‘I should have let you know.’

A chill swept over her as she took in his blank expression. ‘You said we aren’t quite married, but you haven’t asked for a divorce.’ He stopped, though she clearly heard the yet he hadn’t said. ‘Which is it, Rosa?’

And, though his expression was still clear of emotion, the danger in his voice was coming out in full now. She swallowed and reached for her drink again.

‘I don’t want to get into this,’ she said after she’d taken another healthy sip. She’d need a refill soon if she went on like this.

‘You can’t get out of it. We’re stuck here.’

‘I know.’ Couldn’t forget it if she tried. ‘I also know that if we start talking about this stuff, being trapped here is going to be a lot harder than it needs to be.’

‘Stuff,’ he repeated softly. Her eyes met his and she saw the anger there. ‘Is that what you call leaving me after five years of being together? After three years of marriage?’

‘I call it life,’ she replied sharply. ‘Life happened, and I had to go.’ She stood. ‘There’s no point in rehashing it now.’

He stood with her, and the body she’d always loved cast a shadow over her. ‘Where are you going to go, Rosa?’ he asked. ‘There’s nowhere to run. This room is open-plan. The only other room is the bathroom, and even then you wouldn’t be able to stay there for ever.’

She took a step back. Lowered to the couch slowly. ‘You’re taking too much joy from this.’

‘This isn’t joy.’ He sat back down, though his body didn’t relax. She nearly rolled her eyes. What did he think he was going to have to do? Tackle her if she tried to get past him?

‘What would you call it then?’

‘Satisfaction. Karma.’

‘Karma?’ she said with a bark of laughter. ‘I didn’t realise you believed in karma.’

‘I didn’t. Until today. Now. When it’s become clear how much you want to run from this—from me—and can’t.’

Now she did roll her eyes. ‘And what are you paying for? What did you do that was so bad that you deserve to be locked in a room with the wife who left you?’

His features tightened. ‘Maybe I don’t believe in karma then.’

‘Sounds like you’re taking the easy way out.’

‘Or like I’m doing whatever the hell suits me.’ His voice was hard, and surprise pressed her to ask what she’d said that had upset him.

But she didn’t. She didn’t deserve to know.

‘Doing whatever the hell suits you does sound like you’re enjoying this.’

‘Maybe I am. Hard to tell since I’ve forced myself not to feel anything since you left.’

And there it was. The honesty, the vulnerability that had always seeped past the coolness he showed the world. The emotion that showed her how deeply he cared, even when he pretended he didn’t.

It had always managed to penetrate whatever wall she’d put up with him. Or whatever wall he’d put up to make her believe he didn’t feel. But he did. Which made her actions so much worse.

She’d done many stupid things in her life. Most of them because she’d wanted to find out who she was after giving so much of herself to her mother.

Like dropping out of college because she didn’t think they were teaching her what she needed to know about design.

Like moving out when she was tired of being responsible for her mother’s mental health.

Like ignoring her mother’s phone calls for almost two months after she moved out, because she thought Violet was trying to manipulate her into coming back home. When really her mother had been calling to tell her about her cancer.

She hadn’t thought anything about her relationship with Aaron had been stupid. At least she hadn’t until she’d found the lump. Until it had reminded her of how stupid she’d been by choosing not to be tested for breast cancer when her mother’s doctors had advised it.

And suddenly all the uncertainty she’d battled with in the past about her decisions had returned. Maybe they’d never really gone away. And the disaster scenario of what that lump could mean had echoed her mother’s own anxieties so closely that it had reminded Rosa that she was her mother’s child.

It would have been selfish of her to stay. To put Aaron through what she’d gone through with her mother. To put him through anything that would cause him to suffer as he had when his mother had been ill.

‘Maybe that’s for the best,’ she told him, kicking off her shoes. ‘If we don’t feel anything, we don’t get hurt. And since we’re already in this situation—’ she waved between them ‘—committing ourselves to not getting hurt doesn’t sound so bad, does it?’

* * *

He stared at her. ‘Are you...are you serious?’

‘Yes,’ she said, and lifted the plate she’d set on the table, resting it on her lap as she leaned back into the couch. ‘Doesn’t it sound appealing to you? Us not hurting each other?’

‘Is that why you left? Because I hurt you?’

She toyed with the food on her plate. ‘No,’ she said, lifting her gaze to his. ‘You didn’t hurt me.’

‘Then why did you leave?’

‘Because I would be hurting you by staying.’

‘Why?’ But she shook her head. ‘Rosa, you can’t just tell me something like that and not give me anything else.’ Still, she didn’t answer him. He clenched his jaw. ‘You don’t think you’re hurting me now? With this?’

‘I know I am.’

‘And that doesn’t mean anything to you?’

‘It...can’t.’

He wanted to shout. To demand answers from her. But that would only keep her from talking to him.

And he needed her to talk to him. He needed to know why she was saying things his wife never would have said. The Rosa he’d married would never have given up on anything. She would never have settled for backing away from the possibility of pain when there was a possibility for joy.

Or perhaps this was karma, like he’d said. Maybe this was his karma. For not acting with reason when it came to Rosa. She’d only been twenty-three when they’d married. He’d been twenty-six. Older. Wiser.

At least old enough to know that she might not have been ready to marry him. She’d still been grieving for her mother when he’d proposed. Her decision might not have been entirely thought through.

But as he thought back to the moment he’d proposed he couldn’t remember any hesitation from Rosa...

* * *

He wanted everything to be perfect. Simple but perfect. That was his plan. And, since only he and Rosa were on the beach in front of the house on Mariner’s Island, there’d be no one but himself to blame if everything didn’t go perfectly.

He took a deep breath and Rosa looked up at him. ‘Are you okay?’

‘Yeah.’

‘You’re sure?’ Her brow furrowed. ‘Because you’ve been quiet since we got here. I mean, quieter than usual.’

She gave him a small smile and his heart tumbled. Even her smile could make his heart trip over itself. No wonder he was proposing to her when he’d never thought he’d get married.

‘I’m thinking.’

‘About?’

‘This. Us.’

‘Really?’ She pressed in closer at his side when the wind nipped at their skin. It was cooler than he would have liked, but he supposed that was what he got by wanting to propose just as the sun was going down on an autumn day. ‘And what have you come up with?’

‘You’re amazing.’

His feet stopped, though they weren’t close to the place where he’d planned on proposing. This was good enough. Waves were crashing at their feet. Sand around them. The sun shining over them as though it approved of his actions.

Besides, none of that mattered anyway. Not any more. All that mattered was her. And that he couldn’t imagine another moment going by without knowing that she’d one day be his wife.

‘Well, yeah,’ she said with a smile that faded when she saw his expression. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘I have something for you.’

‘Okay.’ Confusion lined every feature of her beautiful face, but there was trust in her eyes. He hoped he would never betray that trust. ‘Aaron?’ she asked quietly after a moment. ‘Are you going to tell me what it is?’

Instead of replying, he stepped back from her and removed the rose petals he’d been keeping in his pocket. It had been a silly idea, he thought now as the confusion intensified on her face. But it was too late to stop now.

He cleared his throat. ‘I got these from the house.’

‘You stole...petals from the garden?’ Her lips curved. ‘Just petals? Not the actual flowers?’

He smiled. ‘I wanted to take a picture of you standing in a shower of petals.’

‘Aaron,’ she said after a moment. ‘You realise you’re being weird, right?’

His smile widened. But he only nodded. She let out a frustrated sigh. ‘Okay, fine. Should I just—’ She cupped her hands and mimicked throwing the petals into the air.

‘Yes. But throw them over your shoulder.’ He handed her the petals, careful to protect them from the wind. ‘So, turn your back to me while I get the camera ready.’

There was impatience in her eyes now, but she didn’t say anything. Only turned her back to him. She was indulging him, he thought. Because that was who she was. Always putting him first, even when she didn’t understand why.

He took the ring from his pocket and took another deep breath. And then he got down on one knee and said, ‘I’m ready.’

She threw the petals into the sky and turned, a smile on her face for the picture she’d thought he was about to take. At first the confusion returned. Her eyes searched for where she’d thought he’d be as the petals swirled around them. Then, as they were carried up and away by the wind, her gaze lowered, settling on him.

She sucked in her breath and then, on an exhale, said his name. The surprise had turned into something deeper, more meaningful, as she did. And suddenly all the fear, all the uncertainty disappeared.

It was going to be perfect.

That was the last thing he thought before telling her why he wanted to spend the rest of his life with her.

* * *

No, he thought as he closed his eyes briefly. There had been no hesitation when Rosa had accepted his proposal.

But hadn’t his mother shown him that he would need to take responsibility for others at some time in his life? So why hadn’t he realised Rosa might have needed that from him too?

But now that he thought about it, he wondered if it was because he had been responsible when it came Rosa. He’d promised her mother that he would look after her. And, since he’d loved her so damn much, marriage had seemed like the perfect way to do it.

But maybe that had been his mistake.

Or maybe he was the mistake...

‘Okay,’ he said curtly, ripping himself out of the web his memories had caught him in. ‘Do you want another drink?’

She blinked at him, and then silently nodded and handed him her glass. He deliberately brushed his fingers against hers as he took it, and saw the slight shake of her hand as she drew it back to her lap.

He turned away from her, satisfaction pouring through him. Whatever it was that she was going through—whatever it was that they were going through—he hadn’t made up their attraction. And that attraction had come from their feelings for one another.

Perhaps he’d made one too many mistakes with Rosa. Heaven knew he had with his mother, so it might not have been different with his wife. But at least he could make sure Rosa didn’t forget that they were drawn to one another. Something neither of them had ever been able to deny.

And then what? an inner voice asked as he poured their drinks. Would they just become hyperaware of their attraction, since their feelings were seemingly out of bounds, and then let it fizzle out between them?

There was no way that was happening. And if they acted on it...what would that mean for him? For them? Would she just walk away from him again? Would he just let her go?

An uncomfortable feeling stirred in his stomach and he walked back to her, setting her glass down on the table to avoid any more touching. He had no idea what he wanted to achieve with her. With his marriage. And he’d never thought he would be in the position to have to worry about it.

He’d thought he’d done everything right in his life. He’d looked after a mother who hadn’t cared about looking after herself. About looking after him. He’d got a stable job. Succeeded in it. He’d fallen in love—though it had been unplanned—and he’d married.

And still everything had gone wrong.

Though, if he was being honest with himself, perhaps that had started when his mother had been diagnosed with cancer and he’d realised the extent of his mistakes.

Now, the fear that had grown in the past four months pulsed in his chest. Had him facing the fact that everyone in his life who was supposed to love him had left him. His mother. His father. And now Rosa...

He couldn’t deny that he was the problem any more.