A Surprise Christmas Wedding - Phillipa Ashley Page 0,43
after the nurse told us how many weeks the baby was. I didn’t realise what the dates meant straightaway but when she started sobbing her heart out, I worked it out. She couldn’t hide the truth then, and blurted it out right there in front of the nurse.’
‘That must have been a terrible shock.’
‘You could say that. It took my breath away. The nurse made a quick exit, saying “we must need time together”. I just lost it. I didn’t shout or swear; I just walked out. I felt humiliated, and grief-stricken. It wasn’t my baby. That life I thought we’d made together. It wasn’t anything to do with me. Jeez, I’d already painted the nursery, started reading the parenting books … all the clichés.’ He shook his head. ‘I feel such a fool.’
She leaned forward. ‘Why? For being excited about being a father? That’s completely understandable. I can understand that …’ Her words tapered off as if she’d said too much. Jay wondered if her eyes were suspiciously bright. ‘You must have felt your world had fallen apart,’ she said finally.
‘I did, but what followed was probably worse. It also split our family. Mum and Dad were so upset, they wouldn’t even speak to Ben at first but when the baby came, they naturally wanted to see their grandson. I can’t blame them for that. The problem is they’ve now shifted their view and want me to be reconciled with Ben, and for me to forgive and forget, but I can never do that.’
‘You must be so hurt. It must have been awful to see your family torn apart like that.’
‘It was. It still is, but I can’t get past it. I see my mum and dad but I refuse to go to any family occasion that Ben’s at too, which makes things awkward.’
‘No wonder you’re dreading Christmas. It’s easy to think everyone’s having an amazing time, surrounded by all the family. The truth is that almost everyone is struggling with something: bad memories, the tensions simmering. Disappointment.’
‘You sound as if you know what I mean.’ Jay snapped out of his woes. Here he was, bemoaning his situation and Lottie had been through even worse. ‘Last year must have been so difficult for you,’ he said.
‘It was. We were doing our best to be cheerful for the twins and they had no idea how serious Steph’s condition was. Underneath it all, everyone was terrified of losing her. Not just me but my parents. Mum went down with a bad chest infection with all the stress and had to keep away. My dad had a scare with his heart and of course, we didn’t dare tell Steph.’
‘Leaving you to shoulder the burden.’ He focused on her face: the delicate bone structure, the keen blue eyes and the determination behind them. She was strong as steel as well as beautiful.
She shrugged. ‘I didn’t see it like that. I just had to get on with it day by day.’
Jay wondered if she’d had a partner to help her at the time and if not, why not? ‘What about your family? Are they local?’
She laughed. ‘Not exactly. They moved to New Zealand before the twins were born, while they were still young enough to get working visas. Steph and I stayed here because of our jobs but it’s been hard since she was diagnosed. We do miss each other a lot though.
‘We don’t have any other siblings. As for friends … I found it hard to talk to them about …’ She faltered. It must be a painful time for her, Jay thought. ‘About Steph’s illness even to people I’d known for years. Every time I was on the edge of blurting out to someone how I felt, that I was struggling, I stopped myself. I wanted to cope alone. I felt I should and that talking about it would only exhaust me. I didn’t have time to talk to people, or the energy to make a scene or cry. It was simpler to just get on with it,’ she added quietly.
‘It’s less complicated, isn’t it? Once you tell someone, they start asking you how you are, texting you, and it saps what little energy you have. You have to rake over the bad times again and again, like pulling a plaster from a wound, and feeling the pain afresh. You wish you’d never told them …’ he said.
‘Yes. Yes, exactly.’ She nodded, and he felt drawn to her by an invisible bond.