and Amy. And he couldn’t help but notice how Sandy’s eyes never left her delightful little niece. There was more than being a doting aunt in her gaze.
‘Okay, guys, I have to get back to the bookshop,’ Sandy said. She hugged Amy and Lizzie. Then turned to him and hugged him. ‘I’m going to stay back for a little while after I shut up shop and flick through Ida’s files. I’ll see you for dinner.’
He tightened his arms around her. Something was bothering her—and that bothered him. ‘Don’t be too long,’ he said, wanting to urge her to stay.
Lizzie and Amy headed for their car. Ben watched Sandy as she walked through the door. Her steps were too slow, her head bowed. She seemed suddenly alone, her orange dress a flash of colour in the monochrome decor of the reception area.
Was she thinking about how much she’d miss Lizzie and Amy if she settled in Dolphin Bay?
He suspected it was more than that.
Sandy had accepted his reasons for not wanting to risk having another child. But he’d seen raw longing in her eyes when she’d been with Amy.
When she was eighteen she’d chattered on that she wanted three kids. He’d thought two was enough—but he hadn’t argued about wanting to be a parent. Fatherhood had been on his future agenda, too.
The ever-present pain knifed deeper. Being father to Liam had been everything he’d wanted and more. He’d loved every minute of his son’s babyhood.
He took in a deep, shuddering breath. By denying Sandy her chance to be a mother he could lose her. If not now, then later.
It might make her wave goodbye and leave for Melbourne on Wednesday, never to return to Dolphin Bay. Or, if she decided to stay with him, she might come to resent him. Blame him for the ache in her heart that only a baby could soothe.
Could he let that happen?
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
THE NEXT AFTERNOON Sandy trudged towards the hospital entrance. Fed up with the muggy atmosphere in Bay Books, and the rattling, useless air-conditioner, she’d shut up shop on the dot of five o’clock. To heck with going through more of Ida’s files. She’d talk to Ida in person.
Whether or not she’d be able to have a sensible business conversation was debatable. She was too churned up with anxiety about the reality that a long-term relationship with Ben meant giving up her dream of having children. She tried summoning the techniques Ben had taught her to overcome her fear of monster waves but without any luck.
Her anxiety was like a dark shadow, diminishing the brilliance of her rediscovered love for Ben. Even memories of their heavenly lovemaking the night before, the joy of waking again in his arms, was not enough.
It felt like that long-ago summer day when she had been snorkelling with Ben at Big Ray Beach, out in the calm waters of the headland. It had been a perfect day, the sun shimmering through the water to the white sand beneath them, illuminating shoals of brightly coloured little fish darting in and out of the rocks. She and Ben had dived to follow some particularly cute orange and white clown fish.
Then suddenly everything had gone dark. Terrified, she’d gripped Ben’s arm. He’d pointed upwards and she’d seen one of the big black manta rays that had given its name to the beach swim directly above them. She’d panicked, thinking she didn’t have enough air to swim around it and up to the surface. But the ray had cruised along surprisingly quickly and she and Ben had been in sunshine again. They’d burst through to the top, spluttering and laughing and hugging each other.
Right now she felt the way she had when the light had been suddenly cut off.
She couldn’t ignore Ben’s stricken reaction when Amy had reached out to him yesterday. Her niece was discerning when it came to the adults she liked. She’d obviously picked Ben as a good guy and homed in like a heat-seeking missile. But all it had done was bring back painful memories for Ben.
If Sandy had held on to any remnant of hope that Ben might change his mind about having a child she’d lost it when she’d seen the fear and panic in his eyes.
And it hadn’t got any better during dinner. She’d seen what an enormous effort it had been for Ben to take part in Amy’s childish conversation. Amy, bless her, hadn’t noticed. Her little niece had been too pleased she’d managed to get a toy girl white lion for her Auntie Ex and a boy one for Ben.
It must be so painful for Ben to endure—every child he encountered a reminder to him of what he had lost.
But it was painful for her, too, to know that Amy would be the only child she would ever have to love if she and Ben became a long-term couple.
Could she really do this? Put all her hopes of a family aside?
Would she be doomed to spend the next ten years or so hoping Ben might change his mind? Counting down the fertile years she had left? Becoming embittered and resentful?
She loved Ben; she didn’t want to grow to hate him.
If she had any thought that her relationship with Ben might founder over the children issue should she think seriously of breaking it off now, to save them both future pain? Her heart shrivelled to a hard, painful knot at the thought of leaving him.
She couldn’t mention her fears to Lizzie—now back home in Sydney. Lizzie would tell her to run, not walk, away from Dolphin Bay. Her sister had often said giving birth to Amy was the best thing that had ever happened to her. She wouldn’t want Sandy to miss out on motherhood.
Ben’s decision not to have more children really could be a deal-breaker. Tomorrow was Wednesday and their future beyond tonight had become the elephant in the room. No. Not just an elephant but a giant-sized woolly mammoth.
As she neared the big glass doors of the hospital entrance she knew she had to tell Ida to take her out of the Bay Books equation. She couldn’t consider her offer while she had any doubt at all about staying in Dolphin Bay.
But almost as soon as she was inside the hospital doors she was waylaid by the bank manager’s wife, a hospital administrator, who wanted to chat.
By the time she got to Ida’s bedside it was to find Ben’s aunt in a highly agitated state.
‘Why haven’t you answered your mobile? There’s smoke pouring out of Bay Books. Ben’s there, investigating.’
* * *
It was nothing Ben could put his finger on, but he could swear Sandy had distanced herself from him last night. Especially through that awkward dinner. At any time he’d expected outspoken Lizzie to demand to know what his intentions were towards Sandy. And Sandy’s obvious deep love for Amy had made him question again the fairness of depriving her of her own children.
But tomorrow was Wednesday. He had to talk with Sandy about her expectations—and his—if they were to go beyond these four awesome days.
She wasn’t picking up her mobile. Seeing her would be better. He headed to Bay Books.
Ben smelled the smoke before he saw it—pungent, acrid, burning the back of his throat. Sweat broke out on his forehead, dampened his shirt to his back. His legs felt like lead weights. Terror seized his gut.
