Their Mistletoe Baby. Karin Baine
messy bob suited her fine features but he’d always loved her long chestnut-brown hair.
‘I needed a change,’ she said flatly, suggesting again there’d been more than physical alterations occurring in his absence.
His stomach rolled at the thought he’d been the cause of that sudden edginess to her when she’d always been such a bubbly, loving individual and his actions had hardened her heart the way his father’s self-destructive behaviour had his. He knew what a long, painful process it was to get over that kind of damage and what it cost along the way. Not something he would ever have wished for Freya to go through, and exactly the reason he’d walked away in the first place.
‘I am sorry. For everything.’ Characteristically, he’d remained in denial until crisis point, when he’d been forced to witness the emotional effects of the damage he’d caused first-hand. While he had no desire to embarrass her in front of anyone here, it would be remiss of him not to acknowledge the wrong he’d done her, and if she chose not to speak to him after this flight at least he would know he’d made the apology and meant it.
‘Perhaps you’d give us a song, Doctor? I’m sure the children would love it.’ There was that smile again but there was no trace of friendliness in the way she’d bunched up the leftover song sheets in her fist. She was rejecting the apology as obviously as she could without drawing attention from the others because she would know taking part was the last thing he’d want to do.
Their marriage might’ve been short-lived but they’d been together long enough for Freya to know that this Christmas merriment was out of Lucas’s comfort zone. Her enthusiasm for the season had been difficult to live with when he’d hated everything about it. The over-the-top glitter and expense was always a reminder of the childhood he’d been denied and the only reason he’d agreed to step in before he knew Freya was involved had been to ensure these kids had the happy memories he didn’t.
‘I...er...have a lot of paperwork to catch up on.’ It wasn’t a complete lie. As the emergency replacement for the usual medical coordinator, he’d been handed the itinerary at the last minute. Although he’d done his best to get acquainted with the case notes of the children who’d be under his care so there wasn’t any room for error and he was fully prepared for any eventuality. Not that anything could’ve prepared him for this tense exchange but he deserved every bit of the hard time she was giving him.
‘Well, don’t let me take up any more of your time.’ She made a move to leave but there was such resignation in her tone he didn’t want her to think he’d ever dismissed her, or everything they’d ever had, as easily as it may have seemed.
He reached out to touch her arm but she flinched away from him again as though he’d given her an electric shock. A reminder of those early days when they’d been avoiding their growing attraction in the workplace, where every brush against each other had held so much meaning. The most obvious difference now was that she wasn’t looking at him with undisguised desire, more like murderous intent.
‘Don’t be like this, Freya. I really am sorry...’ If he’d been in her shoes he knew he’d probably never be able to forgive him either, but how could they ever resolve matters if she refused to be anywhere near him? Expecting a truce here was a big ask but eventually she might accept he was trying to make the best out of a bad situation. Perhaps a divorce would get that anger at him out of her system once and for all.
‘If you’ll excuse me, we have a very busy schedule ahead of us today and I wouldn’t want to let people down.’ Freya cut off his attempt to apologise again and put some distance between them, leaving the scent of cinnamon and peppermint lingering in her wake. She launched into the first rendition of an old Christmas classic, encouraging everyone else to join in and handing out percussion instruments to the youngest members of the party.
To everyone else sitting on this plane Freya was the life and soul of the party, bringing festive cheer to those who needed it most, but Lucas could see the brave face she was trying to put on. She refused to make eye contact with him again for the duration of the fun and games on board to pass the time for the children and he knew that determination not to let them down was because she’d been there. She’d been on the receiving end of bitter disappointment and broken dreams and it was all down to him.
His journey to recovery had come at Freya’s expense and he couldn’t fully move on from the past when it wasn’t only his father who’d left a legacy of unhappiness behind. Unlike the man who’d made his life hell, he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t try to fix things. Although he hadn’t been able to provide Freya with the husband and family she needed or deserved, there was one thing he could give her that might go some way to making up for his behaviour. An explanation.
It wasn’t going to be easy to open up about the demons that had driven him away or to get her to speak to him long enough to do so, but he owed it to her to try. Perhaps this visit to Father Christmas could give them both the gift they needed most—peace of mind.
‘YOU LOOK LOVELY and cosy in there.’ Freya was helping to dress the two little girls she’d been assigned for the duration of the trip in the ski gear and snow boots which had been waiting for the group at the other end of the flight.
It was daylight now and the quick peek they’d had from the plane at the snowy landscape had made them all keen to get out and explore but the subzero temperature meant they needed to be suitably dressed before they could venture outside. With the nature of the conditions a lot of the children were suffering it was doubly important they were all wrapped up against the elements.
Freya had changed out of her elf outfit and into her more suitable snowflake-adorned sweater and warm trousers before they’d left the airport. Even trussed up like the Abominable Snowman in this lurid pink ski suit she felt more comfortable; zipped in and covered up and hopefully protected from the penetrating stare of her ex-husband.
It had never entered her head that she would be forced to face him on this trip but she’d been even more disturbed by the flutter of her pulse every time he looked at her. Something that had happened all too frequently during the flight for her comfort. She felt his eyes burning into the back of her head now, watching her with the intensity of a man who had something he needed to get off his chest. Whatever it was, she didn’t want to hear it. Whether he wanted to salve his conscience and finally unload the reason behind his mysterious disappearance, or he was eventually attempting to claim back half of everything that was rightfully his, she wasn’t going to do this in front of an audience.
Freya had been over every imaginable scenario in her head since he’d left her—from another woman to some sort of post-wedding jitters that had seen him running for the hills. In the end, it boiled down to the same thing—Lucas hadn’t wanted to be with her any more and no amount of talking now could repair her shattered heart. Despite the thermal layers of clothes she couldn’t help but shiver every time she thought of him reaching out to take her hand on take-off. The part of her that, apparently, hadn’t endured enough humiliation wanted to believe it was more than some residual body memory making him reach out to reassure her. That, irrespective of everything, he still cared about her the way she obviously still cared for him. The wounded Freya, still recovering from her injuries, reminded her it wasn’t possible given the way they’d parted and it wasn’t healthy to hold out any hope otherwise. Such a weakness in her armour left her vulnerable to another attack on her heart.
‘Where did my fingers go?’ Five-year-old Hope waved her hand at Freya and pulled her back into the present fantasyland. She was one of several here with type one diabetes, which meant constant monitoring of her blood-sugar levels, to avoid highs and lows, and her activity levels. It left no room for daydreaming paediatric nurses.
‘They’re in there all snuggled together keeping warm. These are called mittens and all of Santa’s visitors have to wear them so Jack Frost doesn’t nip those little fingers.’ She adjusted the mittens so Hope’s thumbs made it into their own holes and gave her