Chapter Nine #2
Then came his trip to the USA. Usually she’d have gone too but he’d insisted she stay and rest. She’d been feeling exhausted and hadn’t argued, determined to be sensible about her health and her baby’s.
Yet on the morning he was due to leave Greer had felt out of sorts.
She’d woken to discomfort in her lower back and wondered if she’d overdone her online yoga session.
Worse though had been the inexplicable sense of dread when she thought of Conall’s imminent departure.
As if she couldn’t cope without him! It was so unlike her, but she’d actually asked him to defer the flight.
She hadn’t mentioned her physical discomfort, thinking it was nothing, only asked him to stay in Sydney.
Conall had held her hands and reminded her that the sooner he finished his business, the sooner he’d be back. He’d promised to streamline the meetings and return early. Greer had wanted to beg him to stay but knew how hard they’d both worked for that deal and how important it was to him.
His flight was only a little way across the Pacific when her back ache morphed into stomach cramps. Despite seeking help as soon as possible, when she left hospital later that day she was no longer pregnant. There’d been nothing anyone could do to save her baby.
Her breath hissed as she recalled the smells of blood, disinfectant and fear.
‘Greer? Say something. Talk to me. Please.’
A familiar weight settled at the top of her back, Conall’s palm. She wanted to tell him not to touch her, though the feel of his hand, gently circling, felt…welcome. It even seemed to take her headache down a notch or two.
She sat straighter, fixing her stare on the dark blue blur that was the shoreline on the far side of the harbour. ‘I’m remembering that day. The day I lost my baby.’
His hand stilled. Did she feel it quiver? Before she could pursue the thought his hand resumed that hypnotic rhythm.
‘I’m so sorry, Greer. Our child was a gift and—’
‘Please. Don’t.’ She couldn’t bear for him to pretend to feel more than he had. She knew he hadn’t regarded her pregnancy as a gift. ‘Not now. I don’t want to talk about the baby.’
She wouldn’t blame him for not loving their child but…
Don’t you? Isn’t that why you ran away from him? Why you moved out of his penthouse while he was still out of the country?
Conall was silent for so long she felt almost guilty at how she’d cut him off. Until she remembered how it had been between them. That he’d felt forced into fatherhood by her determination to keep the baby. When she’d needed him most he’d gone, so she was alone when she lost the baby.
It was one thing for him to regret her miscarriage. He wasn’t unfeeling and he clearly realised how devastated she’d been. But the idea of sharing her grief with him when he hadn’t really cared about the baby felt wrong. As if it would be a betrayal of that precious life she’d once carried.
That was why she’d left the city after the miscarriage. She’d sent him a message straightaway, telling him what had happened and that she was okay. She’d assured him he needn’t cut short his trip because she needed time alone and was going away for a while.
Then she’d switched her phone off, returning to the penthouse long enough to pack a bag and leave, placing the rings he’d given her and her key to his apartment on the hall table.
Because surely it was over. He’d married her because he’d felt he had to, for her baby’s sake, and now there was no baby. Presumably there’d be no marriage.
Pain tore at her throat and she strove to suppress more tears.
Conall’s hand moved again, slower than before, smoothing up and down her spine. The movement loosened knotted muscles and she felt a ripple of something like gratitude.
‘Where did you go, Greer? I searched and searched but—’
‘To the Blue Mountains. A little cottage.’ She’d taken several weeks’ leave, effective immediately, trying to sort herself out.
‘I worried about you.’
Something in his voice penetrated her misery. She turned to see him staring straight back at her, his eyes dull as if reflecting the searing pain she felt.
Her breath hitched. In the days following her miscarriage she’d half-blamed him. As if he’d have been able to prevent the miscarriage! And for not loving their child, or her, the way she wanted.
It was crazy thinking but at the time, overwhelmed by hurt, she’d felt so guilty and desperate enough to blame someone else. No wonder she’d craved solitude. It had been easier to retreat into herself, telling herself she couldn’t rely on him.
Her mother had taught her self-sufficiency and since her mum’s death, Greer had learned not to rely on anyone but herself. That was a large part of the reason she’d hunkered down alone after the miscarriage. She didn’t lean on others.
‘I’m sorry.’ Her voice cracked. ‘I should have contacted you. I wasn’t thinking clearly.’ Even now, that time in the quaint cottage was a blur.
‘I can barely imagine. I was just relieved when you reappeared.’ His voice was as strong and sure as ever but with an unfamiliar quality that made her heart clutch and her shoulders brace.
Because now she saw he’d suffered too.
In the weeks following the miscarriage she’d told herself he was okay.
He hadn’t wanted their child, and hadn’t been emotionally invested, so he wouldn’t grieve.
He didn’t love her. They were close, intimate, connected, friends with wonderful benefits.
But he’d never so much as hinted at deeper feelings for her.
He’d viewed what they had as an affair and had no idea she loved him. Their marriage had only been to secure their child’s future from potentially grasping relatives. The diffidence he tried and failed to hide made that clear.
So, logic had decreed, Conall would be okay without her. He’d understand she needed time to herself. He’d probably be grateful he wouldn’t have to pretend to a grief he didn’t feel.
But reading his features now, she knew that wasn’t the case. He didn’t look like a man who was okay.
Greer stiffened. Had she been selfish, hiding alone and stopping all contact? She’d needed solitude but she could have contacted him again so he didn’t worry about her.
She hadn’t even told him when she returned to the city, choosing to stay in her own flat, because she couldn’t bear to be in his penthouse where she’d been so incredibly happy, then suffered such devastating loss.
Greer hadn’t been able to face questions and explanations, or the sympathy he’d feel obliged to show.
Instead, like a coward, she’d turned up for work on a day she knew he had back-to-back meetings and there’d be little time for private conversation. She’d told herself if she could get through the first day, they could go on from there.
‘I’m so sorry I blocked you out, Conall. It was thoughtless of me.’ She frowned, realising just how thoughtless and how unlike her it had been. ‘I just couldn’t…can’t face talking about it.’
Slowly he nodded, his face a picture of concern. And something else, fiercely held in check.
That expression took her back to the day she’d returned to the office from the mountains. When she’d said the same thing, that she wasn’t ready to discuss the baby.
His features had stilled, his face turning blank. All but his eyes, which hadglowed with a fierce intensity, revealing that she wasn’t the only one battling emotion.
‘I understand, Greer. It was a terrible time.’
His understanding didn’t ease her guilt. Instead it compounded it. He was a wonderful man in so many ways. Even if he hadn’t been jubilant about the child, he’d deserved better than to be shunned.
Greer struggled to swallow over the tangle of emotions clogging her throat.
‘I won’t push you to discuss anything you don’t want to yet. It’s enough that you’re here and safe. And terrible as the memories are, it’s an enormous relief that you’re beginning to recover from the amnesia.’
He was so…kind.
Fresh tears prickled the backs of her eyes but she held them back.
‘It must have been a nightmare for you,’ she said slowly. ‘When I went to lunch that day and didn’t come back.’
The accident had happened on her first day back in the office. The day they’d had such stilted conversations, snatched between meetings.
Greer had sensed his frustration and had been glad to concentrate on work, or try to. At lunchtime she’d gone to buy a sandwich, only to walk into an industrial accident that would land her in hospital. Now she wondered if her mental state had made her too inwardly focused and less aware of danger.
‘You have no idea.’ His voice ground low. ‘I thought at first you’d run away, because you didn’t feel able to spend any more time with me.’
His eyes looked haunted and his strong features seemed stretched too tight, as if under immense pressure, making him look almost gaunt.
Greer’s stomach twisted in distress for him. ‘I’m sorry,’ she said again. ‘I didn’t mean to—’
‘Of course you didn’t. Don’t apologise. It wasn’t your fault.’ He raked his left hand through his hair, leaving it dishevelled and ridiculously appealing.
She had an instant flashback to that morning, of her returning to the office, both dreading and longing to see him.
She’d been torn between believing their relationship was over and fearing it.
Her heart had stopped when she’d seen him through his open office door.
He’d been prowling the room, phone to his ear, his hair a tumbled, sexy mess.
In that moment she’d realised that despite everything, she loved him as much as ever.
Some sixth sense had alerted him to her presence and he’d swung around, ending the call and tossing the phone onto his desk. The way he’d looked at her had made her sore heart contract.
‘I went to your flat and the penthouse when you didn’t answer your phone that day.’
Fortunately his mobile number was one thing she hadn’t forgotten in the accident, since she’d known it for years. ‘My phone was crushed in the accident.’