Paris’s premier restaurants.
Javier noticed her slight stumble and put his arm around her waist. ‘Steady there, cariño,’ he said. ‘You don’t want to take a fall.’
She smiled weakly and settled against his hold, walking a few more paces when another pain gripped her like a large fish hook. She placed a hand against her abdomen, her skin breaking out in clamminess.
‘Emelia?’ Javier stopped and gripped her by both arms. ‘What’s wrong?’
She bit down on her lip as another cramp clawed at her. ‘I think something’s wrong…I’m having cramps. Oh, God…’ Her legs began to fold but he caught her just in time.
He scooped her up in his arms and walked briskly to the nearest guide, who promptly called an ambulance.
Emelia remembered the pain and the ashen features of Javier as she was loaded into the back of the ambulance and then nothing…
When she woke the first thing Emelia saw was Javier sitting asleep in the chair beside her bed. He jolted awake as if he had sensed her looking at him. Relief flooded his features as he grasped her hand and entwined his fingers with hers. ‘You gave me such a fright, querida. I thought I was going to lose you all over again. You have taken ten years off my life, I am sure.’
Emelia dreaded asking, but did so all the same. ‘The baby?’
He shook his head. ‘I’m sorry, mi amor. They couldn’t prevent the miscarriage but you are safe, that is the main thing.’
Emelia felt her hopes plummet. The main thing was he was off the hook, surely? No more baby. No more commitment. No more pretending to be happy about being a father. ‘How far along was I?’ she asked in an expressionless tone.
‘Not long, just a month, I think I heard one of the doctors say.’
Emelia studied his expression without saying anything.
He shifted in his seat, his eyes going to their joined hands. ‘I know what you are thinking, Emelia,’ he said gruffly. ‘And I know I deserve it for how I reacted to the news of the pregnancy. I didn’t exactly embrace the idea with any enthusiasm.’
‘I’d like to be alone for a while,’ she said.
He looked at her again. ‘But we need to talk about the future.’
She pulled her hand away and stuffed it under the sheets. ‘I don’t want to talk right now.’
He slowly rose to his feet as if his bones ached like those of an old man. ‘I’ll be waiting outside.’
Emelia held off the tears until he had left but once the door closed on the private room she let them fall. So he wanted to talk about the future, did he? What future was that? She had been lulled into thinking they could make a go of their marriage but he had not once told her he loved her. He always held something of himself back. She was never going to be able to penetrate the fortress of his heart. Not now, not without the baby she had longed for, the baby she had hoped would be the key to showing him the meaning of love. She had seen the flicker of relief in his eyes. No pregnancy meant he could continue with his life the way he always had—free and unfettered. Well, he was going to be much more free and unfettered than he bargained for, she decided.
‘How is she?’ Javier asked the doctor on duty when he came back from the bathroom.
‘She doesn’t want to see anyone right now,’ the doctor said. ‘She is still feeling rather low. It’s quite normal, of course. The disruption of hormones takes its toll. She can go on some antidepressants if she doesn’t improve.’
‘When can I take her home?’
‘She lost a lot of blood,’ the doctor said. ‘She’s had a transfusion so we’d like her to stay in for a few days to build up her strength. She has been through rather a lot just lately, I see from the notes.’
‘Yes,’ Javier said, feeling guilt like a scratchy yoke about his shoulders. ‘Yes, she has.’
‘Just be patient,’ the doctor advised. ‘There’s no reason why she can’t conceive again. These things happen. Sometimes it’s just nature’s way of saying the time is not right.’
Javier sighed as the doctor moved on down the corridor. He had never thought there would be a right time, and yet the right time had come and gone and he had not even realised it.
The nurse handed Emelia her discharge form with a disapproving frown. ‘The doctor is not happy about you wanting to leave so soon, especially without your husband with you. Can’t you wait until he gets here? He’s probably stuck in traffic. There was an accident in one of the tunnels this morning.’
Emelia straightened her shoulders. ‘I have been here for four days as it is. I am sick of being fussed over. I am sick of hospitals. I want to get on with my life.’
‘But your husband—’
‘Will understand completely when he hears I have left,’ Emelia said with a jut of her chin as she picked up her bag. ‘You can tell him goodbye for me.’
Emelia slipped out of the hospital, keeping her head down in case anyone recognised her. The press had been lurking about, or so one of the cleaning staff had informed her. That had made her decision a lot easier to make. She was tired of living in a fish bowl. She was tired of being someone she wasn’t, someone she had never been and never could be. The accident had been devastating but it hadn’t been the catalyst everyone assumed it had been. She had already made up her mind that she could no longer live the life Javier had planned for them both. It didn’t matter what his reasons were for marrying her, the fact remained that he didn’t love her. He wasn’t capable of loving anyone. And, while she loved him and would love him for the rest of her life, she could not continue living in hope that he would change.
A taxi pulled into the entrance of the hospital and, once its occupants had settled up, Emelia got in and directed the driver to the airport. She had already booked the flight via the high tech mobile phone Javier had brought in for her. It was another one of his expensive presents, one of many he had brought in over the last few days: a pair of diamond earrings and a matching pendant, a bottle of perfume, a designer watch that looked more like a bracelet than a timepiece, and some slips of lace that were supposed to be underwear. She had received them all with a tight little smile, her heart breaking into little pieces for the one gift he withheld—his love.
The flight was on time, which meant Emelia could finally let out her breath once she was strapped into the seat, ready for take-off. She checked the watch Javier had given her, her fingers tracing over the tiny sparkling diamonds embedded around the face as she thought about him arriving right about now on the ward. He would be demanding to know where she was, where she had gone and who she had gone with. She could almost see his thunderous expression, his tightly clenched hands and the deep lines scoring his forehead. But, for some reason, instead of making her smile in satisfaction, she buried her head in her hands and wept.
EMELIA had spent the afternoon on the beach. The walk back to her father’s palatial holiday house at Sunshine Beach in Queensland was her daily exercise.
