Chapter One.
Rina
“Adam’s spiralling, James,” I admitted.
“Yeah, I’ve seen the signs. Adam’s falling deeper into depression,” James agreed.
“James, I’m lost. Adam won’t talk to me, I feel like I’m losing him,” I muttered.
James nodded. I knew he was concerned about Adam, too.
My nephew, Walker, whom I’d adopted as a young child, approached quietly.
Walker had been my sister Ava’s son, and his father had been Adam.
Adam hadn’t known about him until Walker got very ill.
When contacted, a whole load of lies had been uncovered, and Adam and I had fallen in love.
Walker wore a worried expression. I couldn’t believe he was sixteen. Walker had battled some serious health problems, requiring a liver transplant, which Adam had provided the organ for. He’d been ten when that happened.
Adam and I had been together for six years, and we’d had three children during that time. Three boys and one girl, including Walker. I couldn’t help thinking about the past when our future was so uncertain.
“You okay?” I asked as Walker stopped.
“Yeah… no. Dad’s brooding again.”
“We were discussing that,” I said.
“Did I find Dad just to lose him to this shit?” Walker demanded, and I barely hid a chuckle back.
“Language!” I snapped without rancour, and Walker shrugged.
James lifted one eyebrow, and Walker blanched. “Sorry.”
Amused, I bit the inside of my cheek. Walker was the image of Adam right down to his attitude. The only thing he’d inherited from Ava had been her honey-blonde hair.
“Walker, we’re trying to figure it out,” I said.
Walker eyed me. “Mom, we can’t lose him.”
“We won’t,” I promised. I reached out to ruffle his hair, and Walker flinched, looking appalled.
“Mom!” he hissed, giving James a sideways glance. James remained impassive as Walker pulled back his shoulders and strutted off.
“Hard to believe Walker’s sixteen,” James muttered.
“I know.” A shadow moved in the window, and I glanced up. Adam stared down at me, his face expressionless, but his lip curled in distaste. His eyes were blank, and he offered a sneer before he walked away.
“We’re going to lose him,” I whispered again.
“Perhaps you need a vacation. An escape from reality with the children and Adam. All he sees in this place is what he thinks he lost,” James suggested.
“I’ve overheard Adam talking to himself. He calls himself disabled and useless.” I fiddled with the hem of my thick wool jumper.
“I’ve heard him, too. Being around here and seeing the guards, being close to RC, maybe Adam needs a break. But don’t mollycoddle him. Make Adam carry his own cases and shit. Then he can learn that he’s able to stand on his own two feet.”
“Be cruel to be kind?” I asked as my stomach flipped. Could I do that?
“Yes. I love Adam; he’s like a brother. I let him in when everything screamed not to. He was Frank’s legacy to me and one I cherish. Adam needs a short, sharp shock and to remember what family really is. And it’s not about guarding me or whatever crap he has in his head,” James said firmly.
“Mom!” my five-year-old son, Callum, shouted.
I looked up and saw my four-year-old, Xander, tackle Callum to the ground. Not to be excluded, two-year-old Zoie waddled over and flopped on top of them both. A small smile crossed my lips, and I patted James on the arm. “All yours, good luck!”
With that, I quickly escaped and left James to deal with the ensuing chaos.
◆◆◆
Adam stared at me from the doorway as I searched online for a vacation we’d all enjoy.
“Have a nice chat with James?” he asked with a sneer.
“Problem?” I demanded, put on guard immediately.
“None. At least James is fit and whole.”
“And you think that matters, Adam? I love you, all of you,” I retorted.
“Even though I’m a gimp? Sure. Pity James married Kate, you might have had a chance!” Adam hissed, and I recoiled.
“How dare you? Leave, Adam, before you say something you regret!” I yelled.
Shame flashed briefly in Adam’s eyes, but it disappeared just as fast. “I’m going to the club,” he said and spun around and limped off.
“Again?” I called.
“What are you, my mother?” Adam retorted and left.
I dropped my head into my hands. The man I loved was buried in there somewhere, under that anger, and I couldn’t reach him.
Wiping tears away, I carried on looking for a vacation that might bring Adam back to me.
Adam
Shit. I hadn’t meant to go off on Rina that way, but I couldn’t control my temper.
The hurt on Rina’s face haunted me as I drove off like a lunatic.
Automatic cars for me now. James had tried to stop me from leaving, but it was pointless.
Even our living arrangements were dependent on James.
Rina had struggled to cope in our home while I was ‘recuperating’, and it wasn’t conducive to my recovery.
Too many stairs and crap. Not wide enough for a wheelchair. Various other excuses.
Rina had been falling apart, and James swooped in, grabbed her and my kids, and moved us into what was known as Washington Manor.
I’d been grateful, not expecting a permanent stay.
I’d been full of piss and vinegar and determined to heal properly.
The house was huge, and we went days without seeing each other.
James had generously given us our own wing.
At first, it had been a relief; now it was my prison.
Dane was still at our former home, not that I’d ever go back.
How could I? Too many fuckin’ stairs! Now, Rina and the kids were all safely ensconced in James’s mansion.
Rina didn’t need me. Shit, she’d never needed me.
Rina made a fortune from her paintings, which were in high demand.
That’s how she’d bought the house in the first place.
She and Dane, her best friend and ex-boyfriend, shared the property although Rina owned it.
It was a strange situation. Dane and Rina had been a couple when Ava, Walker’s mother, had died.
Rina adopted Walker immediately, and even though she and Dane had separated, they’d remained close friends and raised him together.
It crossed my mind often that if I were out of the picture, then Dane and Rina might rekindle their relationship.
Walker and the kids had settled in at Washington Manor.
Almost as if they belonged, and James was overjoyed to have family nearby.
Kate and Rina got on well, and Tammy had a separate wing.
James was expanding his family by taking mine.
I couldn’t blame him; they were beautiful and deserved better than me.
Hell, I couldn’t even teach Walker to drive.
James was doing that because my leg was so fucked up.
Rina
I fell asleep long before Adam returned. He reeked of spirits, and I hoped he hadn’t driven home. Adam barely made it to the bedroom before passing out drunk, fully clothed. Great, it appeared I was sleeping on the sofa again.
Annoyed, I didn’t bother making Adam comfortable; why should I? Adam clearly didn’t care about my comfort.
I yanked the thick duvet off the bed and stomped out.
Adam needed a wake-up call, and I was getting tired of his attitude fast. I loved Adam and couldn’t imagine being without him, but this shit had to stop.
Adam was hurting, I knew that, but so was I.
He wasn’t the only one who’d been affected by his injury.
When I’d arrived at the hospital—Phoe had me flown in with her—I was told Adam might not survive.
As the hours ticked past, doctors said they didn’t think his leg could be saved.
Surgeons were considering an amputation.
I didn’t care; I just needed my husband.
Without hesitation, I gave permission and waited.
More hours crept by before a nurse came out with a beaming smile.
She’d informed me that Adam was still in surgery and that a different junior doctor had taken over.
Slowly, he was piecing Adam’s torn leg back together, one stitch at a time.
The nurse said there’d be terrible scarring, but the guy was being meticulous.
In confidence, she’d stated that the attending had ordered the removal of his leg, but the junior physician had argued against it.
The senior doctor had permitted the junior surgeon to try to save the limb but had fully expected to carry out the amputation. Hours later, Adam’s limb was being repaired.
Hope had risen, and I’d prayed like there was no tomorrow. They’d been answered, and Adam not only survived but also avoided losing his leg.
Now, as I curled up on the sofa, I wondered for the millionth time if I’d done the correct thing. Perhaps I should have let them amputate. It would have saved Adam a lot of pain.
Did those who lost limbs really feel the loss of them? As I lay there in the darkness trying to sleep, I couldn’t decide if I’d chosen right or not. Had saving Adam’s leg cost me my husband? That was a question I couldn’t answer.
◆◆◆
“Go play,” I ordered, shuffling the children out of the apartment. Walker sent Adam a disgusted glare, collected the younger three, and took them out.
Adam sat at the breakfast bar, blearily eyed and sallow-skinned. He was a mess even though he’d showered.
“The kids could have stayed,” Adam said.
“With you looking like shit? Yeah, I want the kids to see their father hungover,” I snapped.
Adam looked surprised.
“What? Do you think this is acceptable?” I continued.
“Rina, you don’t know what shit’s like—”
“No?” I screamed, and Adam reared back. “I don’t? I’m not living this nightmare with you?” My frustration was boiling over, and I tried desperately to rein it in.
“What would you know? You’re not a gimp!”
“And neither are you, except in your own fuckin’ mind! Adam, I wish you’d died that day! At least the kids wouldn’t be tortured by your behaviour. They no longer laugh around you! They walk on tiptoes, and you’re losing them, and you don’t care!”