of surprise when Kim stretched to kiss his cheek and then give him a firm hug. He soon lost it, though, she noted, when he realised that Cassie was hovering at the top of the stairs, looking down at him stonily.
Thirty-Four
Jemma
Jemma woke with a jerk, sweat saturating the sheets beneath her. The nightmares had plagued her since the day Josh had died. They’d grown worse since she’d realised Liam was the image of him. His eyes were Josh’s eyes. The first time she’d looked into them, her heart had almost stopped beating. She’d been sure she could see the accusation there. Every night she heard his voice in her dreams: ‘Don’t do this to me, Jemma.’ Over and over. She’d turned her back, ignored his plea. The squeal of the brakes, she heard that too, metal grinding raucously against metal, the high-pitched scream of primal terror rising above it. Then came the cloying darkness, deep, dark crimson turning to complete impenetrable black. She could feel it suffocating her, sucking her in and burying her along with him.
She would never forgive herself for the pain she’d caused him. She hadn’t meant to treat him so cruelly. To hurt him so badly.
Gulping back a ragged breath, she pulled herself up, waiting for the frantic beating of her heart to abate, and glanced in the semi-darkness to Ryan’s side of the bed. Her husband, solid and dependable. Holding her and comforting her when she couldn’t go back to sleep.
He was scared too. Jemma had seen the puzzlement in his eyes when he looked at her, wondering why she couldn’t bond with her baby. The midwife had told her to give herself more time. How much time? This wasn’t normal. The palpitations and panic attacks… She’d had one in the supermarket once. She’d had to get out, leave her shopping. Her moods, which would alternate between lack of interest in Liam to extreme anxiety for him. If the nightmares didn’t wake her, a deep-rooted fear that something had happened to him would, and she would climb out of bed and tiptoe into the nursery to make sure he was breathing.
This hollow hopelessness inside her was something she’d experienced before. Goose bumps prickling her skin, she rubbed her arms. The midwife had suggested she see her GP. She’d said he could refer her to someone to talk to if she was really worried. Ryan had thought that was a good idea, and Jemma had pretended to go along with it. She didn’t dare tell him she hadn’t gone to the appointment. How could she, when she was too petrified to tell anyone what she’d done?
Unable to make Ryan out under the tangle of duvet, she reached tentatively across to his side of the bed. Finding nothing but empty space, her heart lurched. He must have slipped out to see to Liam. She hadn’t heard him. She hadn’t heard her baby crying. Again. There was something wrong with her. She was some kind of monster. If Ryan knew how much of a monster, how badly she’d deceived him, he would leave her in an instant. She couldn’t bear that. Couldn’t be without him. Not now.
Scrambling out of bed, she crept to the landing. When she saw the soft glow of light spilling from under the nursery door, she felt a huge surge of relief. Also jealousy, she acknowledged, her guilt ratcheting up. Ryan had bonded with Liam. Liam had bonded with Ryan. His little mouth always curved into an excited smile when his huge blue eyes alighted on him. Why couldn’t she feel the same connection? This was all she’d ever wanted, her own little family. To be a mummy. Yet she’d risked everything in a vain attempt to escape the pain of losing her first baby. She should have been honest. She should have told Ryan. Begged his forgiveness. She couldn’t tell him now. It would destroy him. She’d sealed her fate. Somehow she would have to live with her conscience.
Padding along the landing, she pushed the nursery door open to find Ryan nestling the child he thought was his son against his shoulder. Her heart broke for him as she watched him press a soft kiss to Liam’s head before lowering him gently back into his cot.
Straightening up, he glanced back at her, pressing a finger to his lips as she crept closer. Comforted by the man who would always be his father in Jemma’s mind, Liam was lying on his back sleeping contentedly,