That was all. No declaration of love. No apology, no sadness. I don't know if it made it better or worse that she was clearly out of her mind insane at the point of her suicide. Would it have been easier if she'd thought it all through and still gone ahead with it? I doubted it.
Though I had been the one to find her body, it had been Bonnie and Isabel who had taken it the hardest. They were still so young, just sixteen years old, and they had already had so much loss to cope with. And though I hadn't realised it at the time, Isabel was drowning in guilt. When Rosie had abandoned them, us, without so much as a goodbye, something in them changed. Bonnie had gone from fun loving, to completely wild. She had disappeared off for months at a time, abandoning all thoughts of college, instead partying and drinking and cutting herself off from the chance of ever being hurt again. Isabel had put her head down and lost herself in her studies, filling any spare second of free-time with volunteer work. She had pasted on a smile and forged ahead, but I knew there was a deep fear within her. She was terrified of losing anyone else and she held on tight to the few that she had left. Bonnie. And me.
And now, here I was risking myself for a child I may never get to hold. I was threatening her safe little bubble with my actions, and I knew I was hurting her deeply. But I couldn't walk away from my dream just to protect them, could I? I couldn't just stop.
I reached out to place my hand on Isabel's folded arms.“You won't lose me sweetie. I promise. I'm stronger than I look,” I insisted, my eyes on her pale, freckled face. I could see she was holding back an ocean of pain just beneath the surface. “Don't you see, I have to keep trying. But you won't lose me,” I repeated, my gaze moving to Bonnie now, my tone pleading, inviting them both to give me their blessing.
Bonnie looked at me, her eyes shining with angry tears. She shook her head. “You don't know that.” Then she turned and stormed out of the house, slamming the door behind her. My hands shook as I watched her go.
Chapter Six
I couldn't stop pacing as I waited for Lucas to arrive home. He'd sent a text an hour before saying that he was sorry but he'd been held up, though of course he didn't tell me with what. Probably some horrible emergency with a poor, injured animal. Perhaps right now he was working tirelessly to save someone's beloved pet. My stomach churned at the thought of it. As per usual, I would just have to wonder though. I knew I would never find out, Lucas wouldn't be sharing his burdens with me. That was a habit that needed to change, I realised now as I wiped the duster over the dining room table for the third time in a row.
I was wearing pretty black shoes with a low heel, and a green mini dress that I knew Lucas loved on me. I had already showered, put on make-up and had a big pan of pork and apple stew bubbling away on the stove. I was going into battle and I knew it. I would attack him with intense kindness, show him the bright, light-hearted, productive side of myself – my best side. I would make him realise that I was not the frail, failure of a woman I was certain he had begun to see when he looked at me. No longer would he come home to find me curled up in a ball on the sofa, dressed in old grey pyjamas. He wouldn't get the usual monotone one word answers to his questions. Not any more. I was going to win him over with love. I had to get him on my side, I had to make things better for him.
As I dropped the duster into the washing machine and stirred the stew again, I realised how unfair I had been on my husband. Bonnie and Isabel were right, it wasn't okay for me to shut him out like this. It wasn't fair to him that he couldn't talk about the things that upset him with the one person who should always be there for him. He couldn't share his sadness over his working day. And he hadn't been able to discuss the pain he felt over our lost babies in a very long time. I had cut him off, walked away, refused to hear the words that cut me to the bone.
Yet my efforts to protect myself from the sickening pain I felt over my lack of a baby had caused him to feel shut out in the cold. Abandoned. I could see now that I was hurting him, and as much as I hated to admit it, Isabel had been right. I was hurting my marriage too. The love, the inseparable bond and unquestioning connection we had shared at the beginning, had been lost in recent years. There was a mountain between us that couldn't be scaled.
The time had come for me to play my part. To make some serious compromises. I would have to face the pain and open myself to him. I would have to drag myself out of the miserable bubble I had retreated into. I would smile and cook his favourite foods. I would make an effort with my looks and remind him that I was still here, I was still the woman he loved.
But I wouldn't agree to stop trying. I wouldn't give up that dream. No. I would convince him to continue. I would give him myself again, but I wouldn't stop trying for my baby. Not ever.
The key turning in the door made me jump, my elbow knocking against my mug of tea, almost sending it over the side of the kitchen counter. I grabbed it, righting it just in time, as Lucas walked into the room. I could see the dark circles under his eyes, the lines etched deeply into his furrowed brow. I wondered how they had become so deep without me noticing. I wondered if my own face showed the same marks of weariness.
I stood and walked towards Lucas, kissing him on the mouth and wrapping him in a silent hug. He instantly melted into me, his arms enveloping me within them, stunned into silence. The move was so familiar, so natural, yet I realised with a pang that I couldn't remember the last time I had approached him with affection. Sex yes, but no vulnerable hugs. No sweet kisses. I really had abandoned him. As I squeezed my eyes shut against his big, warm chest, I could feel the tension leave his body in increments.
“What's all this?” he asked finally, leaning back to appraise me. “You look lovely.”
“Thank you. Dinner's ready, did you want it now or do you want to shower first?”
A flash of uncertainty passed over his face as he tried to work out what I was up to. “Uh, now I think. I missed lunch – I'm starving.”
I nodded and moved towards the stove, taking two deep bowls and ladling generous helpings of the steaming stew into them. My hands shook as I placed his in front of him.
“This looks great Rox, thank you,” he said, taking a wedge of bread from the board as I placed it in front of him. I pulled a chair out on the opposite side of the table and lifted a spoonful of the fragrant pork to my lips. The meat was cooked to perfection, but I found my mouth was as dry as a handful of sand, my tongue plastered to the roof of my mouth. I could barely manage to choke the mouthful down. Discreetly, I placed my spoon back on the table, instead picking up my wine glass and drinking deeply.
I had planned to wait, to let him eat and relax, to show him how well I was doing before approaching the sensitive topics. It was the clever thing to do. I had to be patient, act at the right time, not rush him into it. As I watched him eat, I felt as though I would explode if we didn't break into the tough conversation soon. I needed to resolve it, quickly.
Instead of diving in with the baby talk though, I reached forward and took his hand. “You were late back, did something happen at work?” I asked softly.
He shook his head, continuing to eat. He didn't look up as he answered through a mouthful of stew. “Nothing to worry about, just a glitch.”
I watched him closely, sad at how little he wanted to share. “Lucas,” I said sternly. He looked up at me and our eyes met. “Tell me what happened. Please? I want to know.”
He held my gaze. “It was nothing.”
I frowned and pursed my lips stubbornly. “Tell me.”