Two Little Miracles

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Oh no, Jane had been right, he was going to do the sweet-talking thing, but she’d been warned, and she wasn’t falling for it. ‘It’s not that easy.’

‘Oh, you’re going to start the lifestyle thing again, aren’t you?’ he said, rolling his eyes and letting out his breath on a huff.

‘Well—yes. You obviously haven’t changed; you look dreadful, Max. How much sleep did you have last night?’

‘Four hours,’ he admitted grudgingly, looking a little uncomfortable.

‘Four hours of sleep, or four hours in the apartment?’

‘Sleep,’ he said, but he looked uncomfortable again, and she had a feeling he was hiding something, and she had a feeling she knew what.

‘Max, how many hours are you working at the moment, on average? Fifteen? Eighteen? Twenty?’ she added, watching him carefully, and she saw the slight movement when she hit the nail on the head. ‘Max, you idiot, you can’t do that! You need more than four hours’ sleep! And where are you sleeping? The apartment, or in the office?’

‘Why do you care?’ he asked, his voice suddenly bitter, and he lifted his head and seared her with his eyes. ‘What the hell is it to you if I burn myself out trying to—?’

‘Trying to?’ she coaxed, but then wished she hadn’t because, his voice raw, he answered her with an honesty that flayed her heart.

‘Trying to forget you. Trying to stay awake long enough that I fall asleep through sheer exhaustion and don’t just lie there wondering if you’re alive or dead.’

She sucked in her breath. ‘Max—why would you think I was dead?’

‘Because I heard nothing from you!’ he grated, thrusting himself up out of the chair and prowling round the kitchen, the suppressed emotion making his body vibrate almost visibly. ‘What was I supposed to think, Julia? That you were OK and everything was fine in La-La Land? Don’t be so bloody naïve. You weren’t spending anything, your phone wasn’t working—you could have been lying in a ditch! I’ve spent the days searching for you, phoning everyone I could think of, nagging the backside off the PI, getting through PAs like a hot knife through butter, working myself to a standstill so I could fall over at the end of the day so tired I didn’t have the energy or emotion left to—’

He broke off and turned away, spinning on his heel and slamming his hand against the wall while she stared at him, aghast at the pain in his words—pain that she’d caused.

Didn’t have the energy or emotion left to—what? Cry himself to sleep, as she did?

No. Not Max.

Surely not?

She got up and crossed over to him, her socks silent on the stone-flagged floor, and laid a hand on his shoulder. ‘Max, I’m so sorry,’ she whispered, and he turned and dropped his shoulders against the wall and stared down at her.

‘Why, Jules?’ he asked, his voice like gravel. ‘Why? What did I ever do to you that was so bad that you could treat me like that? How could you not have told me that I was going to be a father?’

‘I wanted to, but you were always so anti-children—’

‘Because you couldn’t have any, and because—’

‘Because?’

He shook his head. ‘It doesn’t matter. It’s irrelevant now, but we were talking theory, there, not practice. When you found out you were pregnant— When did you find out, by the way?’

She swallowed. ‘While you were on your way to Tokyo. Jane took one look at me and gave me her spare pregnancy test.’

His eyes widened. ‘All that time? Right from the very first minute you knew, and you kept it from me? Jules—how? Why?’

‘I didn’t think you’d want to know. I wanted to tell you—I wanted so much for you to be there with me, to share it.’

‘I would have been,’ he said gruffly, his eyes tormented. ‘I would have been with you every step of the way if you’d given me the chance.’

‘But only when you weren’t too busy.’

He looked away. ‘I wouldn’t have been too busy for that.’

‘Of course you would.’

‘No. Not for something like that. You should have given me the choice, Julia, not taken that decision away from me. You had no right to do that.’

He was right, of course. So right, and his anger and grief at the lost time cut right through her. She wanted to hold him, to put her arms round him, but she had no right to do that any more. How could she comfort him for the hurt she’d caused? And anyway there was no guarantee he wouldn’t reject her, and she couldn’t stand that.