table. He opened several cupboard doors before he found where she kept her glasses, then poured her a glass of water; she accepted it gratefully.
Jared waited until Bailey had composed herself for a bit before he made her talk. He knew she’d been to yoga with Joni and then out for dinner; it was their regular Monday night catch-up. But he’d wanted to have a quick chat with Bailey about Darren, their problem player, so she’d agreed to be home for nine o’clock and meet him at her place. Jared had been caught up in a delay on the Tube after a signal had broken down, so he’d been all ready to apologise for being twenty minutes late for their meeting, but that didn’t matter any more. Clearly something bad had just happened.
‘What’s happened? Is Joni all right?’
‘She’s fine.’ Bailey dragged in a breath. ‘It was good news.’
‘Good news doesn’t normally make you cry or look as if you’ve been put through the wringer,’ he pointed out.
‘I’m fine.’
They both knew she was lying.
‘It’s better out than in,’ he said softly. And he should know. He’d bottled it up for a while after Sasha, until his oldest brother had read him the Riot Act and made him go to counselling. And that had made all the difference.
‘I can’t break a confidence.’
‘Under the circumstances, I think,’ he said softly, ‘that Joni would forgive you. Or maybe I can guess. Good news, from someone who’s just got married—it doesn’t take a huge leap of the imagination to know what that’s likely to be.’
And it didn’t take a huge leap of the imagination to put the rest of it together, either. What would make someone bawl their eyes out when they learned that their best friend was going to have a baby? Either Bailey couldn’t have children or she’d had a baby and lost it. Miscarriage, stillbirth, cot death … a loss so heartbreaking that she’d never really recovered from it. And neither had her marriage.
Was that why she’d been so adamant that the break-up hadn’t been her ex’s fault? And was that why she’d suddenly been so antsy at the park, when she’d asked him if he wanted children?
The way she looked at him, those beautiful dark eyes so tortured, was too much for him. He came round to her side of the table, scooped her out of her chair, sat in her place and settled her on his lap, his arms tightly wrapped round her. ‘I’m not going anywhere until you talk to me. And whatever you say isn’t going any further than me, I promise you.’
She didn’t really know him well enough to be completely sure that he wouldn’t break his promise, but he hoped that she’d got to know him enough over the time they’d worked together to work out that he had integrity.
‘What happened, Bailey?’ What had broken her heart?
‘I was pregnant once,’ she whispered.
He stroked her face. ‘When?’
‘Two and a half years ago. I was so thrilled. We both were. We wanted that baby so much.’
He said nothing, just holding her close and waiting for her to tell him the rest.
‘And then I started getting pains. In my lower abdomen. It hurt so much, Jared. I was worried that I might be having a miscarriage. And my shoulder hurt—but I assumed that was because I was worried.’
Jared knew that when you were stressed and tense you tended to hold yourself more rigidly and the muscles of your shoulder and neck would go into spasm, causing shoulder pain. Clearly that hadn’t been the reason for the pain in this case.
‘I went to the toilet,’ she said, ‘and there was spotting.’ She closed her eyes. ‘I felt sick. Light-headed.’ She dragged in a breath. ‘Then I collapsed. Luckily one of my colleagues found me and they got me in to the department. I told them I was pregnant, but I knew what was happening. I knew.’
A miscarriage? Heartbreaking for her.
‘They gave me a scan. I was six weeks and three days. The pregnancy was ectopic.’
Even harder than he’d guessed. The fertilised egg hadn’t implanted into the uterus, the way it should’ve done. Instead, it had embedded in the Fallopian tube and stretched the tube as it had grown, causing Bailey’s lower abdominal pain.
‘My Fallopian tube had ruptured. They took me straight into Theatre,’ she said, ‘but they couldn’t save the tube.’ Her voice wobbled, and then a shudder ran through her. ‘I wanted that baby so much. And I—I …’
‘Shh, I know.’ He stroked her hair. ‘And it wasn’t your fault.’ It happened in something like one out of eighty pregnancies. Often it sorted itself out and the woman hadn’t even known she was pregnant in the first place. But Bailey had been unlucky, caught up in one of the worst-case scenarios.
And clearly the fact her best friend had just shared the news of her pregnancy had brought it all back. Joni had doubtless been one of the first people that Bailey had told about her own pregnancy, and Jared would just bet that Joni had agonised over telling her best friend the news, knowing that it would bring all these excruciating memories back. And he was equally sure that Bailey had gone into super-sparkly mode to reassure her that it was fine, all the while her heart breaking into tiny pieces again.
‘The ectopic pregnancy wasn’t my fault,’ Bailey said, ‘but the rest of it was.’
The rest of it? He’d obviously spoken aloud without meaning to, or maybe the question was just obvious, because she started talking again.
‘I pushed Ed away afterwards. I—I just couldn’t cope with the idea of it happening all over again.’
Jared knew that a second ectopic pregnancy was more likely if you’d had a first. He’d never worked in obstetrics, but he was pretty sure that the statistics weren’t shockingly high. Bailey’s fears had obviously got the better of her.
‘I was so scared of getting pregnant again. So scared of losing another baby. So scared of losing my other Fallopian tube, so I’d never be able to have a baby without medical intervention. I wouldn’t let Ed touch me. I knew he was hurting and he needed me, but I just couldn’t let him touch me. I couldn’t give him the physical comfort he wanted.’ She leaned her head against his shoulder. ‘I was such a selfish bitch.’
‘You were hurting, too, Bailey,’ he reminded her softly. ‘You weren’t being selfish. You were hurting and you didn’t know how to fix it—for yourself or for your husband.’
‘In the end, Ed found comfort elsewhere. But he—he wasn’t like your ex,’ she whispered. ‘He wasn’t out there looking for someone else. He would never have done it if I hadn’t pushed him away and made him feel as if I didn’t care. It was all my fault.’
And now he understood why her family worried about her so much and were so keen for her to meet someone. Not because she was ‘on the shelf’, but because they knew how much she’d been through and they wanted her to find someone to share her life with and to cherish her, someone who’d stop her being lonely and sad.
If she’d let him, maybe he could do that. Maybe they could both help each other heal.
But
