outside the ward probably gave the nurses a scare but he didn’t care. The second he saw them walking towards him he darted past and in to her bedside. She was all wrapped up in blankets and tubes. The regular beep of the monitors assured him that she was mending.
He took a seat next to the bed and held her hand until her eyelids fluttered open.
She blinked up at him with groggy eyes. ‘Hey.’
A hot, unfamiliar feeling washed over him. Gratitude and relief mixed with that tight ache in his chest. She was safe but their baby wasn’t. ‘Hey. You gave us all a bit of a fright. We had to operate, but you’re okay. And everything’s going to be just fine.’ He promised her that much. He’d make it right. Somehow.
‘What was wrong? Appendix or something?’
He didn’t answer directly, didn’t want to upset her so soon after the surgery. ‘Rest now, I’ll explain it all later. You’re doing great. How do you feel?’
She coughed and ran a palm over her dry lips. Her voice was crackly and hoarse from the intubation tube. ‘On a scale of one to ten? Minus three. How do I look?’
‘On a scale of one to ten? Eleven.’
‘You are so full of—’
He squeezed her hand. ‘Quiet now. The nurses said you weren’t to get excited.’ So how the hell he was going to tell her about the pregnancy and the scarring he didn’t know. Coward. She needed to know.
All in good time.
‘Don’t kid yourself, Maitland.’ She managed a weak smile. ‘You don’t excite me. Irritate, obviously. Annoy, intensely.’
He couldn’t help grinning. At least she hadn’t lost her spirit. The one thing that kept her so beautiful, so different from everyone else. One of the many things he admired in her. ‘They clearly didn’t insert a “nice gene” while they were rummaging around in there.’
‘Nice is so overrated.’ As her eyes closed, her breathing settled and her grip on his hand relaxed. ‘I’m all out of talking. Now go.’
‘Like hell. I’m staying all night.’
And then he’d broach the subject of the baby.
12
‘Thank God for my own bed.’ Gabby slunk further under her duvet and closed her eyes. Safe in her own space away from the prying eyes of the hospital staff. Without the cloying closeness of Max and his pitying looks. She needed space to grieve for the baby she hadn’t even known had been growing inside her. To come to terms with it and, yes, to move on.
It felt like she’d be moving on forever. And yet she’d never escape.
She allowed herself a few moments to not think. To not do anything. The last hour had been so full of pain and arguments with the hospital staff. Now she just needed peace and quiet.
But half of her was on alert for the phone to ring. The doorbell. Her cellphone. Because as soon as Max found out he’d be on to her.
No matter.
He could go to hell like the rest of them.
Funny, though, there’d been no tears when the nurse had whispered to her in the middle of the night and told her the truth of her situation. No tears, but a numbness that had spread through her body, a reconciliation that finally, finally Nonna’s promised punishment had come.
No more babies. Nonna would be pleased up there on her fluffy perfect cloud—she’d warned something bad would happen. Now it had.
No babies.
For so long Gabby hadn’t even wanted any more. Hadn’t allowed herself to think of more. But now the ache in her stomach was nothing compared to the sharp hurt in her heart. Just like the first loss, this was devastating.
She did want children. She wanted to be a mother sometime. Somehow.
Each breath came coated with a stuttered pant. Everything she touched shook in her trembling hands. And yet there were no tears.
‘Gabby. Gabriella!’ A loud hammering on the front door jolted her upright.
Max.
She held her breath and waited for him to lose interest. Fat chance. The man was nothing if not determined. ‘Gabby. Let me in. I know you’re there.’
Pulling the curtains tight, she closed her eyes, wishing to hell she hadn’t chosen a ground-floor bedroom.
‘Gabby.’ He’d moved now and was hammering on the French doors to her room. ‘I’m going to break the glass if you don’t answer.’
Protecting her abdominal wound with her arm, she dragged herself up and leaned back on her pillows. ‘Go away, Max. Please.’
‘I will not go away. Either you let me in or I break the glass. You want