Surprise Baby, Second Chance. Therese Beharrie
off, her heart thudding. ‘Did you—did you do this?’
‘Oh, no,’ Aaron replied, and took another step towards her. This time she managed to keep her feet in place. ‘Why would I want to see the wife who left me with no explanation?’
‘Great. Then I’ll go.’
She turned to the door again, ignoring her confusion. She’d figure it out when she was off the island that reminded her so much of her husband.
The island where he’d taken her months after her mother had died. Where he’d got down on one knee. Where he’d told her he couldn’t imagine life without her.
Where they’d spent time after their wedding. Lounging in the sun at the beach. Lazily enjoying each other’s bodies as only newlyweds could.
Where they’d taken holidays. When life had become too much for her and Aaron had surprised her with a trip away.
The island where he’d held her, comforted her, loved her on the bed that stood in the corner, its memories haunting her. Overwhelming her.
Yes, she’d figure it all out when she was away from the island. And far, far away from her husband.
A hand pressed against the door before she could open it. She swallowed and then turned back to face him.
Her heart sprinted now. Her body prickled. The scent of his masculine cologne filled her senses. Memories, sharp and intimate, could no longer be held back.
Again, she tried to ignore them. But it was becoming harder to do.
‘Why are you stopping me from leaving?’ she managed in a steady voice.
‘Did you think you were just going to walk in here, see me, and then...leave?’
‘I thought I was attending your mother’s sixtieth birthday party.’
‘Which I would have been at too.’
‘And we would have seen each other there, yes. But you’re the only one here. I’ve seen you. Now I want to leave.’
‘Just like that?’
‘Just like that.’
He inched closer. ‘You’re not the slightest bit curious about why you and I are alone here?’
‘Sure I am. But I’m also pretty sure I can figure it out on my way to the airport.’
‘The airport?’ His lips curved into a smile. ‘Honey, the airport’s closed.’
‘No,’ she said after a beat. ‘No, it can’t be. I just got off a plane. Your mother said it would be waiting for me when I was done here.’
His smile faded. ‘She lied. Your flight is likely to be the last one until Monday. The airport’s closed this weekend.’
Panic thickened in her throat. ‘All weekend?’
‘Don’t sound so surprised, Rosa,’ he said mildly. ‘You know Mariner’s Island doesn’t work the way the rest of the world does.’
‘Yes, but...but it was a private plane. Yours.’
‘It still needs somewhere to take off from. To land at. And since the airport’s closed we won’t have that until Monday.’
She ducked under his arm, put distance between them. But it didn’t make breathing any easier. ‘So...what? Your mother just decided to leave her guests stranded here until Monday?’
‘Not guests,’ he corrected. ‘Just you and me.’
‘Did you know about this?’
‘No.’
‘Then how did you not suspect something was off when the main route off the island would only be viable again on Monday?’
‘She told me that the party would be going on for most of the weekend.’
‘And you believed her?’
‘Yes,’ he said coldly. ‘It’s not unusual for one of my mother’s parties to continue for an entire weekend. You know that.’
‘Okay,’ she said, and lifted the curls off her forehead with a shaky hand. ‘Okay, fine.’ Her hand dropped. ‘Then I’ll take a boat home.’
‘It’s too late to get one tonight.’
‘I know,’ she said through clenched teeth. ‘I’ll take one tomorrow morning.’
‘There’s a storm warning for tomorrow. Starting tonight, actually.’
She looked beyond the glass walls, saw the dark clouds rolling in. Her stomach tumbled. ‘That’s fine.’
‘It’ll be a rough storm, Rosa. It’s anticipated to last until tomorrow evening at least. Do you still want to take a boat?’
‘Yes.’
He laughed softly. ‘You’re so determined to get away from me you’ll take an almost two-hour boat ride in a storm? Even though you get sick when the water is calm?’
She hesitated. ‘I’ll be fine.’
His half-smile mocked her. ‘I’m sure you will be.’
He was right, she thought, and hated herself for admitting it. Hated him for being right.
Except that what she felt in that moment was anything but hate.
Confusion, yes. How had this happened? Had Liana really orchestrated this on purpose?
Guilt, of course. She’d walked away from him. From their relationship. She hadn’t even said goodbye.
Anger, absolutely. She hated feeling trapped. It reminded her of her childhood. Of being caught in her mother’s world.
But hate? No, she thought, her eyes settling on Aaron again. There was no hate.
‘Why are you so calm?’
‘I’m not,’ he replied in a tone that gave no indication that he wasn’t. ‘But I know my mother. And I know this scheme is probably well-thought-out. Much like the first time we met. Or don’t you remember?’ His voice was soft, urgent. ‘Have you run away from the memories too, Rosa?’
She didn’t reply. There was no reply she could give. She couldn’t tell him that she hadn’t been running away from him, not really, but saving him. From the anxiety, the stress, the worry of being with someone who was terrified of losing the health of their mind, their body.
Rosa had spent her life looking after someone like that. She knew the anxiety, the stress, the worry of it. She knew the guilt when the fear became a reality.
She’d saved him, she thought again. She’d saved him from going through what she’d gone through with her mother’s hypochondria. She’d saved him from having to take care of another person. From having it break him.
The moment she’d felt that lump in her breast, she’d known she couldn’t put him through all of that. So she’d walked away. Had tried to move on.
But the memories wouldn’t let her. No, the memories were always, always there.
* * *
‘Great,’ Rosa said loudly. ‘No one’s here.’
But that didn’t make sense. Her mother had told her there was a Christmas ball for cancer patients that night. Had asked Rosa to be her partner at the ball.
Of course, Rosa had agreed. Her father wasn’t in Cape Town, though she doubted he would have agreed to accompany her mother even if he had been. Irritation bristled over her, but she forced her attention to the matter at hand. She’d spent enough of her time being annoyed at her father.
The room was decorated as if there was