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Tentacles of fear wrapped themselves around him and tried to suck him down into that deep, dark well of pain he’d kept hidden for so long. Having that kind of responsibility, having to be the one to take care of a young baby every day, was just so...
His heart thudded in his chest so loudly he thought he could hear it in his ears. His skin grew hot, clammy, and he could feel the beginning of the shakes. My body...it’s surging with adrenaline... The last time he’d felt this way had been after they’d found Serena...
Sam blinked slowly. Emily was still waiting for his reaction, and though the idea of becoming a father terrified him he loved her so much he just knew he couldn’t let her see it. Couldn’t let her see his inadequacies. Couldn’t let her see his Achilles’ heel. She would think him an absolute monster if he started on her about this, and both of them had been through too much just lately. His true reaction would have to wait. Maybe when he was out of hospital they could talk sensibly about this.
So he managed to let out a breath and grasped her fingers tightly. ‘You’re pregnant? Emily...that’s so...’ he forced the word, trying to make it sound authentic ‘...amazing!’
And he pulled her into his arms and clasped her tightly, breathing in the delicious scent of her honey hair and closing his eyes with such intense pain in his heart, hoping that she could not sense his betrayal.
He felt her relax and sink into him, gasping with relief.
* * *
‘You mean it? You’re happy?’ Emily pulled back to search his face, her own riddled with tears, unable to believe that this was true. But true it was. Because Sam was nodding and smiling and happy. And somehow this Sam—this version of Sam who had believed it was two years earlier and they were newly engaged—seemed happy at the idea of becoming a father!
And if he’s happy then...maybe we can be happy too?
She kissed his face without thinking, clutching it with hands that were trembling. She’d been about to leave him! She’d almost packed her things. Had written him that letter. They’d crashed their car arguing over this. It was unbelievable.
His reaction, though welcome, was startling. Now the relief of telling him about the baby had passed without bad incident she began to feel pangs of doubt.
‘Of course I mean it. How could I not?’ He swallowed. ‘How far along are you?’ he asked, with real curiosity.
She smiled, almost shyly, amazed that she was getting to talk to him about this. Normally! Without him throwing a fit and storming out! ‘About nine weeks, I think.’
‘Nine weeks...’ He looked up at her and smiled broadly once again. ‘Still in the first trimester? I guess we really ought not to tell anyone yet.’
‘You could tell your family if you want to.’
Sam shook his head. ‘No, I...I think it’s best we wait until you’re in the fourth month.’
‘Okay. Whatever you think is best. I’m so glad you’re happy about this. I thought—’
‘Thought what?’
She shook her head, as if her answer had been too silly to contemplate. ‘It doesn’t matter.’
This truly was an opportunity, Emily thought, for them to save their marriage. Sam loved her. He seemed happy to be a father. Was there any need to tell him what their relationship had really been like? This might be a chance for Emily to wipe their slates clean and start again.
Although it wouldn’t be a totally fresh start. Because for her the upset of the last few weeks and months was still there. Just because Sam didn’t know, it didn’t mean that she’d forget too. But it might be a start. A way to save them, built on who they had been in the beginning of their relationship. In love. Supporting each other’s hopes and dreams. There had been no need for her to get the suitcase out of the closet.
And what harm could it do? They’d nearly separated, but now...? Now things seemed to have changed. Sam seemed happy about the baby, despite everything, and that was what she’d wanted the most. She’d been granted her wish—only a fool would throw it all away now. She’d been desperate before, when she’d been on the verge of leaving him. But now she was being presented with a second chance.
And, yes, his memories might come back to him and cause them problems later, but what if they didn’t? And if they did—well, Sam was happy to be a dad right now. If they both worked really hard on their relationship, then surely all that was in the past...could be washed under the bridge?
This was a second chance for them, and for the sake of their unborn baby Emily was prepared to risk it.
She’d always fought for their marriage. Had tried everything to save it. What was one last secret?
* * *
The second Emily left his hospital room to head home for the night Sam slumped back against his pillows, exhausted.
A baby...
It was such a huge responsibility. For years. A lifetime. And the weight of that responsibility was not something he thought he could bear.
What had he been thinking, getting Emily pregnant? Had they not been using protection? How had he allowed himself this colossal mistake?
He couldn’t be a good father. Hadn’t he proved himself incapable of looking after a baby? That was why being an OB/GYN was so beautiful. He could keep babies safe at work. Get them through their nine months of gestation as safely and healthily as possible and then make sure that the mother delivered her child without problems.
At the hospital he had a team. He was supported. He had the most recent advancements, tests and medications at his fingertips. Was able to experience joy with the family as he brought new life into the world. Holding a newborn baby...there was nothing in the world like it. It was a privilege. Magical. A brand-new person and he would be the first one to hold it, before he delivered it into the hands of its parents. The elation, the thrill in the room could not be surpassed. And then, once the umbilical cord was clamped and cut, Sam’s job—Sam’s responsibility—was over. He could relax. Let go.
Sam loved delivering babies. Hadn’t he wanted to do that for so long? Hadn’t he delighted in the miracle of birth so much he had made it his vocation? Deciding that because he hadn’t been able to save Serena he could save others?
But after the birth?
No. That was when it could all go wrong. It was why he’d interviewed and hired the best, most elite team of neonatologists and paediatricians for aftercare at his Monterey centre.
He’d vowed never to put himself in that position again, and when he’d first met Emily he’d thought he’d found someone just like him. Someone who loved delivering babies but who didn’t want one of their own.
Wasn’t that what she’d said? Early on? He felt sure that she had. He had a blurry recollection of it.
They’d met in a delivery room. Their eyes meeting across a crowded stirrup. Em had been working as a private midwife and had brought in a couple whose home birth plan had gone awry. As the OB/GYN on call, he’d gone to the room to assist with a Ventouse delivery and had been physically struck by the sight of her beside her patient, clutching the mother’s hand through each contraction, coaching her, intently focused on her.
He recalled a brief moment of wondering who this beautiful new midwife was before he’d got to work, and once the baby had arrived—safely, of course—he had left the room. Only for her to follow him outside and thank him.
I stared at her.
He smiled at the memory. He’d literally been struck dumb. Unable to speak. Her blonde hair had been messy, her cheeks rosy, and she’d been wearing these crazy dangly earrings with turquoise stones that almost matched her eyes. And she’d been wearing flats, so she’d seemed only as tall as his shoulders, and he could remember thinking that she was like an elf.
Eventually he’d managed to get his tongue and mouth to form simple words. ‘You did a great job in there.’
‘Me? No, it was nothing to do with me. You did all the work.’
‘Well, it’s my job.’
‘Yes.’ She’d stared back at him as if she’d been trying to work something out in her head. ‘I love having babies.’
He’d frowned. ‘You have children of your own?’
She’d shaken her head, as if realising she’d said something that she shouldn’t. ‘No! God, no! I don’t want any yet.’
He’d smiled, intrigued. He’d wanted to know more about her. Wanted to see her.
His only focus had been to be with her. To soak her up. They’d had such fun together, shared so many likes and opinions.
It had been easy to get carried away in the whirlwind.
CHAPTER THREE (#u31ac17c8-c490-5205-b287-fc7855c28e75)
THE NEXT DAY a young man called Matt came to Sam’s room to help him ‘mobilise’. He was in the middle of trying not to feel too dizzy and light-headed after standing up for the first time when Emily came into his room.
His heart soared at seeing her, despite all his dark thoughts the previous night. She looked fresh and bright, a bohemian chic angel, as if she’d had a really good night’s sleep, and she developed a huge smile on her face when she saw him standing up, holding onto a walker.
‘You’re up!’
‘Not for long.’ Sam collapsed down onto the bed and let out a heavy breath, clutching his head as if to steady it.
Matt cocked his head to one side. ‘Dizzy?’
‘Yeah, a little.’
‘It’ll pass if you take it easy. Try this: whilst you’re sitting down, really push your feet into the floor and flex and release your calf muscles. It’ll help pump the blood around your system and prevent a blood pressure drop next time you stand.’
Emily stood by his side and hesitantly laid a supportive hand upon his shoulder. She smelt minty fresh and was wearing a perfume he didn’t recognise, but liked.
He looked up at her, expecting her to kiss him hello, but she didn’t. Because of Matt’s presence? It seemed unlikely. But now that she was here he wanted to show her what he could do. Show her that he was going to get stronger every day. He wanted to be back on his feet. He wanted to be up and about again. Working. Being Sam. He hated being stuck in a hospital bed.
Gripping the walker once again, Sam stood. Slower this time. He took a moment to make sure the dizziness wasn’t about to make him collapse onto the floor and then pushed the walker to one side and took a step forward. Matt stood close, ready to steady him if needed.
Who knew lying on your back for ten days after a head injury would make you feel as weak as a baby bird? After just a few steps he was ready to sit down, but Sam was determined to push through. He kept going. Made it across the room, out of the door to the nurses’ station and back again. By the time he got back to his bed he was exhausted, sweating as if he’d just done a full day’s training in the gym, and he sank back onto the mattress with a broad grin on his face.
Matt smiled. ‘So...you’re one of those people.’
Sam raised an eyebrow in question.
‘Type A. High achiever. It’s good, but you also need to know when to stop.’
Emily sat beside him on the bed and passed him a towel to freshen up with. ‘He’s always pushed himself and strived for the best.’
‘Yes, well, just keep an eye on that blood pressure. It won’t always be as low as it was about five minutes ago.’
‘I’m fine, Matt. Honestly. I won’t stop pushing until I’m in my own home.’
Matt nodded. ‘And probably not even then. I’ll come back later, after your evening meal, and we’ll do some more. In the meantime, rest. You’re allowed to get up to use the bathroom only.’ Matt saluted him and walked away.
Emily peered into his eyes. ‘Do you remember home?’
Sam looked at her, tempted just to ignore the question and kiss her. Having her this close to him, smelling as good as she did, looking as beautiful as she did...
He reached up and tucked a strand of her choppy blonde hair behind her ear. ‘Are we still in the apartment? The two-bedroom place with the sliding doors out onto the balcony? View across the city?’
He could picture that quite clearly. It wasn’t a problem. He very much wanted to get back there.
But the slump in Emily’s shoulders informed him that it wasn’t the right answer. ‘No. We don’t live there any more.’
Sam tried to think hard. To force memories to the surface. But he couldn’t. It was as if there was a thick wall in his head, blocking them, and no matter how hard he pounded against it, no matter how ferociously he yelled at it and fought to knock it down, it resolutely remained.
‘Then where?’
‘We have a house in Beverly Hills now. You found it for us. It’s white. Very neo-classical—columns, balconies, topiaries, big doors...that sort of thing.’
He tried to imagine it, but was more concerned with the way she’d described it. ‘You don’t seem to like it.’
‘I do. It’s just...’ She paused for a moment, looking down at the cover on his bed and straightening out a ripple on the surface. ‘I guess we haven’t made it ours yet.’ She smiled weakly, but then stood up and tried to become more upbeat. ‘But look at you! Only woke yesterday and already you’re pounding the floors of the hospital!’
He could tell she wasn’t telling him everything. Did she not like their home? Was it a place that he’d liked and pushed her into buying? There was something...
But he dismissed it quickly as he thought of his triumph without the walker and stood up again, pulling her into his arms, searching her gorgeous blue-green eyes for that quirky happy girl he knew so well.
‘I’ve missed you.’
She wrapped her arms around his waist hesitantly, as if it was something she hadn’t done in a long time, as if she was trying not to make it seem like she was pulling away.
But why would that be? They’d only been married a short time—surely they were still very physical?
‘Kiss me.’
‘Sam! The physio said you should be resting. You need to get back into bed!’
‘And I will! But only if my wife joins me.’ Sam tilted her chin up and showed her a cheeky grin before he brought his lips to hers.
The last time he’d kissed her had been... Well, just after she’d accepted his proposal. In his mind, anyway. And he was still full of that celebratory need to show her how much he loved her, despite all that had happened—the car crash, the pregnancy, the head injury, the amnesia. As far as he knew he’d only just slipped that ring onto her finger and he was feeling full to the brim with happiness.
However...
They were married. And expecting a baby. So surely they had to be getting along. And, despite his trepidation, his fears and his doubts, there was one thing clear in his mind. His love for Emily. And right now he felt that he needed her. The last few hours had been a lot to take in. To believe he had lost two whole years of his life was...mind-blowing. His pet project—his dream—the Monterey Birth Centre had opened and begun trading all without his knowledge.
Okay, so technically he’d been there. He’d orchestrated it, arranged it, even shown up to work there, apparently, but that was just what Emily had told him had happened. As far as he was concerned it still hadn’t happened, and whilst he was stuck in this hospital life would continue to carry on without him. He needed to get home. Needed to see the Monterey in action. Needed to think about how he and Emily would tackle their new challenges.
He pulled back and looked into his wife’s eyes. ‘I can’t wait to get home.’
She seemed breathless, her eyes glazed. ‘Me too.’
* * *
It took two weeks before the hospital was even prepared to consider releasing Sam. In that time he received lots of welcome visitors—Emily, his parents, his siblings, some colleagues that, to him, were still relative strangers. Those visits were weird. He underwent a barrage of assessments—physiological, neurological, biological. He felt like every part of him had been poked and prodded or had blood drawn from it, and when that wasn’t happening he had visits from occupational therapists, psychologists, neurologists and the surgical team, who’d given him the low-down on his small procedure.
Most importantly, throughout it all, he had remained stable and his observations had been normal. He was ready now. Anxious to leave the hospital walls and get home. Desperate to get back and see if being there would spark anything.
No memories had yet returned, despite Em’s frequent visits with accompanying photos and videos of their wedding and the opening of the Monterey. She’d been so keen to show him what they had done. What they had enjoyed. But it had been like looking at photos of a stranger, even though he was in them. It had left him feeling disconcerted. As if he was in a strange bubble.
The waiting to leave hospital was more than a little infuriating, and over the last few days he’d found himself snapping at various people. The psychology team had reassured him and Emily that this was normal, as he adjusted to his new self and situation, and offered to assess him every month, for as long as he felt the need to talk about it. Mood swings, apparently, were to be expected.
He wasn’t sure he did want to talk about it. Not to them, anyway. They’d already cottoned on to the fact that he didn’t seem delighted at the idea of becoming a father, and he’d grown to hate his sessions with them, knowing that they would return to the questions he dreaded. He’d even tried sharing his frustration with Emily, but it seemed as if she didn’t know anything about Serena.
Was that possible? That they’d been married for eighteen months and he hadn’t told her? That had kept him silent on all fronts and contributed to his anger.
