… You’re absolutely right. I should have phoned. I didn’t realise seeing you without warning would upset you.’ His pupils dilated, which made their rim of blue the colour of bright sky reflected in black ice. ‘I’m the one who should be apologising.’
She still wasn’t quite sure why he’d gone to the trouble of driving all the way to Keysdale and then out to the farm. It wasn’t the sort of visit a person would plan on the offchance. She suddenly felt resentful that he’d upset the ordered balance of her life.
He looked down at his hands clasped in his lap and said quietly, ‘How are your parents?’
It was a question she wasn’t expecting. She thought a moment before replying.
‘You’re not part of our lives any more. I’d describe Mum’s attitude to you as ambivalent, and Dad … well … you saw what he was like when he answered the door. But I don’t think they actually hate you. It’s what happened—the accident—they both still blame you for that.’
Ryan reached for Tara’s hand but she snatched it away. Seeing him was traumatic enough. She didn’t want any physical contact because … because she wasn’t sure how she’d react. The old desire she thought she’d buried long ago was still there. It frightened her.
‘And you?’
Tara closed her eyes and took a deep breath. She was hurting. Why was Ryan trawling through what had happened so long ago? No one was to blame for the accident. He was a good driver and had done what most people would have—tried to avoid their collision with a kangaroo. With devastating consequences. Her situation was a cross she had chosen to bear without him, and up until ten minutes ago she’d been managing perfectly okay.
She opened her eyes but didn’t look at Ryan.
‘You know I’ve never held you responsible.’ She sighed. ‘It happened, it was regrettable, but I’m over it and I think you should be too.’
Ryan brushed a piece of fluff from his sleeve.
‘Of course you’re right,’ he said. ‘But it isn’t enough to stop me feeling it was my fault. Can you understand how difficult it is for me to see you like …?’ The words seemed to stick in his throat and he swallowed.
Tara looked into the distance, trying to take on board what Ryan was saying. He was hurting too.
Neither of them could ever forget the crash and its aftermath, and sometimes Tara thought Ryan had been more damaged than she. His dreams had been blown apart—his career, the life they’d planned together, the children they’d so desperately wanted. They’d talked about her completing her GP training part-time. She’d been off the pill for a couple of months and the heartbreaking irony was that her period had been a week overdue. She’d planned on doing a home pregnancy test the following week, but the day after the accident she’d bled … and bled … and bled …
Another tragic loss.
It had been as if her lifeblood had drained from her, but she’d always put on a brave face.
Of course they both knew she was still physically capable of conceiving and bearing children. She’d assumed she was no longer sexually attractive to him, though, and even if she did have a child she would need help to look after it. With the long hours Ryan worked she would be effectively a single parent. Combined with her disability, the whole scenario was unworkable.
To her alarm, she was close to tears. She needed to change the direction of the conversation.
‘So you’ll be doing sessional work, I guess?’
He also seemed grateful for the change of subject.
‘I’ll be operating on Thursdays and consulting Fridays, with the option to do an extra theatre session on alternative Saturday mornings. I’ll stay overnight.’
‘Where are you planning to stay?’ she asked, purely out of curiosity.
‘I thought one of the motels. But if you can suggest anything better?’
She thought for a moment.
‘The Riverside is the best of the three motels in town. It’s off the highway and not far from the clinic.’ That was all the advice she was prepared to give.
‘Right. I’m staying over tonight, so I can check out the consulting rooms and meet with the manager to go through all the paperwork tomorrow morning. I can book in to the motel you suggested. I plan to head back about lunchtime.’
To his wife.
Tara wondered what she would think of her husband working away. But she certainly wasn’t going to delve into his personal life.
‘Can I pick you up and take you out to lunch before I leave?’
No way! What on earth was he thinking?
Tara tried not to let her disbelief show on her face and mustered a smile.
‘No, thanks, I’m busy all day tomorrow,’ she lied. ‘And I’m sure you’ll be keen to get home to your wife and family.’
‘Pardon?’
Hadn’t he heard her or didn’t he understand?
‘You’ll surely want to get home,’ she repeated.
‘To my wife and kids?’
Tara nodded.
‘That’s what I thought you said.’ His brow crinkled in a frown. ‘Of course—I shouldn’t have assumed you’d know.’
‘Know what?’
‘Shannay and I divorced over a year ago and she has custody of our daughter.’
He was waiting for a reaction but what did he expect? Should she express regret at the breakdown of his second marriage? This was too much for her to deal with. She’d had the idea, set in her mind, that Ryan would find the perfect woman, that he would have the perfect family. But divorce! It had never been in the equation.
‘Sorry,’ she finally said. ‘I heard you’d married again, but—’
‘To separate was the best option for both of us. We weren’t compatible and it wasn’t working out,’ he muttered.
He stood to leave. He was obviously uncomfortable talking about it.
‘I’ll get going, then,’ he added.
‘Yes. I work Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. so I’ll probably bump into you when you start your Friday sessions.’
Before she had a chance to recoil he leaned down and placed a brief kiss on her cheek, and his questioning eyes lingered on hers for a moment before he strode down the steps and headed for his car.
He’d certainly changed, but in a lot of ways was still the same Ryan Dennison she’d fallen in love with. That was all in the past, though, dead and buried.
But he was single.
Of
