Chapter 13 Amelia
AMELIA
“Can I open my eyes?”
Declan has a surprise for me. Since I told him that I’m pregnant, he has been cooking breakfast for me every day, waking me up with a coffee and a kiss in the mornings, and placing his hand over my abdomen at every available opportunity.
He rubs my back when I’m feeling nauseous.
He hugs me in bed when I’m so tired that I can’t keep my eyes open.
He refuses to let me lift anything heavier than a pan filled with vegetables.
We no longer have to hide our feelings from Orla either, and although I still feel a little awkward when she’s around, that’s my concern and not hers.
“Almost ready.” Declan guides me another couple of steps with my eyes closed.
We’re in the stables. The smell of fresh hay and Sheriff will always ease the tension in my shoulders, and I find myself smiling even though I’ve no idea what I’m going to find when I open my eyes.
“Okay, open.” Declan releases my arms and stands aside so that he can watch my reaction.
I’m facing the stall next to Sheriff’s. A white horse is peering back at me with almond-shaped golden-brown eyes. Her mane has been tied with pink and blue ribbons, and her coat is immaculate. Smaller than Sheriff, she nudges my cheek with her nose when I reach out to stroke her.
“Declan, she’s beautiful. Did you buy her?”
“She’s yours. She’ll be a great horse for you to find your confidence on.”
“Mine?” I don’t know what to say.
Horses are clearly important to Declan and his family—I don’t know anyone else who keeps horses—but I’ve never had a riding lesson in my life. I’ve never gotten a gift like this before either.
“Does she have a name?” I’m still trying to process the overwhelming gift.
And all the while my guilt about Ruairi keeps knocking at my rib cage, asking to be let out.
“Her official pedigree title is Snow Royalty, but you can name her, Amelia.”
“Snow.” I kiss her face, the golden glints in her brown eyes winking back at me. “Do you like it, beautiful girl?”
She shakes her head and nudges my hand.
“Best friends,” I whisper, with my back to Declan so that he can’t see the tears stinging my eyes.
I should be happy. I’m having a baby. I’m in love with a wonderful, caring man who loves me too. We’re embarking on a whole new chapter in our lives. Together.
But I’m only delaying the inevitable.
When Declan finds out that this baby could be his son’s, I don’t know what’s going to happen.
Stroking the top of Snow’s head, my fingers brush against something small and hard. I lean over the stall to peer more closely and find something metal tangled in her mane. Careful not to hurt her, it takes me a while to untangle it, but when it comes free in my hand, I realize that it’s a ring.
A diamond ring.
With one stunning heart-shaped diamond in the center.
“Declan?”
He drops onto one knee and takes my left hand in his. “Amelia, I’m in love with you. You’ll never know how much joy you’ve brought to my life, but I will never stop trying to make you as happy as you make me. Will you marry me?”
“I…” The word yes is on the tip of my tongue. But Ruairi’s memory is batting it out of the way and yelling to be heard. “Declan, I… I would love to marry you...”
He misses the gigantic silent ‘but’ at the end of the sentence. He’s too busy scooping me into his arms, swinging me around the stables, and setting me down again and checking that he didn’t hurt me.
“I’m tougher than I look.” I can’t help giggling at his boyish excitement.
This is how it feels to be in love. This dizzy euphoria, the feeling that we’re untouchable, that nothing and no one can ever drag us down again.
Declan slides the ring onto my finger, and I hold it in front of my face. It’s now or never, I tell myself.
“Do you like it?” he asks.
“It’s perfect.” And I mean it.
“I knew it was the right one the instant I saw it.”
My heart is frantically trying to avoid hearing me say the words out loud. But I must… I can’t live with this any longer. “Declan, there’s something I need to…”
I freeze. My panties feel warm and wet, the way they feel when my period is early and I’m unprepared.
I swallow, and my heart goes into reverse as I touch between my legs, and my fingertips come away crimson.
We both stare at the blood for one interminable moment.
Then, “You’re bleeding.”
I can’t keep up with what happens next. Declan is carrying me back to the house, sprinting, his heart thudding heavily.
Inside, he barks at Orla to call Dr. Flynn as he passes through.
He doesn’t slow down until he reaches the car parked inside the double garage, and then he settles me in the passenger seat and fastens the safety belt around me.
The color has drained from his face. “I’ll get you there as quickly as I can.”
I nod. Nothing I can say will make it stop. So, instead, I rest my head against the back of the seat and stare out the passenger window at the countryside as it passes us by in a blur of green and orange and amber, all of nature’s fall finery.
This is my punishment for lying.
The pregnancy wasn’t planned. The paternity situation is the most stressful thing that has ever happened to me. But the thought of maybe losing this baby is scaring the life out of me. This isn’t what I want. So soon after losing Ruairi, it would destroy Declan.
I curl my legs up onto the seat as if I could hold our baby inside me.
Nothing else exists, only me and this new life that I’m growing.
I will it to be safe. Mind over matter. I tell myself that if the universe is on our side, I’ll spend the rest of my life atoning for my terrible secret. Just please let everything be alright.
I barely take in my surroundings when Declan carries me into Dr. Flynn’s private clinic. It’s different here than in America. Midwives handle all the antenatal and postnatal care, and they even deliver the baby; I read the documentation that I got following the ultrasound scan.
A midwife is waiting to see me, and Declan carries me straight through to the examination room.
I’m trembling violently when he sets me gently down on the sterile paper-covered bed. He squeezes my hand and doesn’t leave my side.
“Amelia, my name is Mairead.” The midwife has rosy cheeks and hazel eyes. “Are you in any pain?”
“No.” My voice sounds weak. Fragile. And Declan gives my hand another squeeze.
“Can you talk me through what happened?”
I want to tell her to stop the bleeding, but I don’t. I tell her that we were in the stables when I felt the blood in my panties.
She asks me to remove my pants and underwear.
Then she places more white paper over my nakedness and feels my belly with her fingertips while I try to regulate my breathing.
Her expression remains neutral. Even when she wheels the ultrasound equipment across the room and squeezes cold gel onto my belly, she gives nothing away.
Finally, she turns the monitor around to face us. “Baby’s heartbeat is strong.”
“It’s … going to be alright?” I whisper.
Mairead smiles. “I would advise taking it easy for the rest of the first trimester, but the fetus is doing well.”
“What about the bleeding?” Declan asks.
I hear the tremor in his voice, and my heart melts for him. He’s the strong protector most of the time, but he’s still vulnerable when it comes to the people he loves.
“It happens sometimes. You did the right thing, getting it checked out, but try not to worry about it.” Her gaze flits back and forth between the two of us, but there’s no judgement. “Amelia is your responsibility, Declan. Make sure that she rests.”
“Oh, I will.”
We get married a week later.
It’s a small wedding. I never bought into the whole fairytale wedding narrative that society pushes because it’s a commercial earner for wedding planners, venues, and bridal gown designers. Besides, Declan has been married before, and I’m not exactly the typical blushing bride.
Orla comes to Dublin with me to choose a wedding outfit. Another secret for me to feel guilty about. I know that my mom should be here with me, helping me plan my wedding, crying happy tears when I find the right wedding gown, choosing a mother-of-the-bride outfit with a wide floppy hat.
I haven’t told her that I’m pregnant yet. Our phone conversations generally end with, “Are you sure that everything is alright, Mia?” Or “You know that you can come home anytime, baby.”
Which makes it even harder. She knows when I’m lying, but I need to come clean with Declan before I can tell her everything, and I can’t tell Declan because I don’t want to pop his happy bubble.
We’re riding different carousels. His is the one painted in bright colors, with smiling horses and gilt poles, jolly music and sunshine pouring down from above. Mine is the one in shadow, where the music is out of tune, the horses are black, and the spiderwebs are tacky and impenetrable.
I only have myself to blame, and I’m the only one who can make this guilt go away. But the longer I leave it, the harder it is to pluck up courage.
So, I force myself to smile when Declan brings me breakfast in bed on our wedding day.
I dress in my wedding outfit—a floaty silk gown the same shade of gray blue as Declan’s eyes.
And I carry the bouquet of timeless blush-pink and ivory roses that Orla had made for me into the registry office on trembling legs.
Orla and Declan’s brother Dermott are our witnesses.
This should be the happiest day of my life.
I’m marrying Declan, the man I fell in love with at first sight.
I’m having a baby. I have everything I could possibly want or need or desire.
But I feel as if I’m wading through quicksand, and it’s only a matter of time before I sink completely and no one will be around to pull me back out.
We celebrate with a meal in a private room in Declan’s favorite restaurant.