Lincoln’s world tilted on its axis as those words sunk in. Hospital. Stroke. The tropical air caught in his throat. The ground shifted beneath his feet. He had to grip the back of his chair to stop from falling over.
Beside him, Mirabella’s concerned eyes met his as she laid her soft hand on his arm. Lincoln struggled to find his voice. ‘What?’ he asked Eva.
‘Don’t panic, Lincoln. We don’t think … Well, I wasn’t here when it happened. I was running late because Lily was sick and …’
Lincoln shook his head. He didn’t know who Lily was—probably the poodle she had as her screensaver—but his assistant was rambling and he couldn’t keep up. ‘Eva.’
‘Sorry! I spoke to the paramedics and they said he should be okay.’ The no-nonsense was back in her tone and Lincoln exhaled. ‘Eric was conscious the whole time and he asked me to call you, was all.’
Lincoln squeezed his eyes closed for a moment before opening them to meet Mirabella’s. He swallowed. ‘Eric may have had a stroke.’
Her hand flew to her mouth. But she didn’t say anything as he turned his attention back to Eva. ‘So, what happened? Is he—’
‘He should be okay,’ Eva assured him. ‘The paramedics said it didn’t seem like a CVA.’
His heart leapt. ‘What the hell is that?’
‘That’s when a clot completely blocks a vessel in the brain,’ she said, and Lincoln shook his head. It was too much medical talk for one day. ‘But because he was conscious and lucid, they said it seemed like a trans-ischemic attack.’
‘Right.’ Lincoln straightened. Swallowing, he tried to compose himself. ‘Which hospital is he at?’
‘Royal Prince Alfred.’
He nodded. It was the closest emergency department to the office. Sighing, he slipped his hand into his pocket. He turned from Mirabella to gaze out over the pool. ‘Do I need to come home?’
‘No, Eric said to tell you not to. He said “call Linc, but tell him not to come”. You’ll be home in three days anyway, right?’
‘I guess …’ But something about that didn’t sit right with Lincoln. He was all Eric had. Considering the man was a workaholic, he didn’t have much in the way of friends. Lincoln was his only family and every inch of him felt like he should be on the next plane off the island.
But the rational part of his brain hesitated. What would running back to Sydney achieve? Nothing, except sitting by Eric’s bedside discussing work. Besides, he couldn’t leave Mirabella here on her own. That wasn’t fair to her even if it was the perfect excuse to escape her company a few days early.
Lincoln blew out his breath. He couldn’t do that to her. Plus, he was excited about Reefsleep. It was the highlight of their trip and why he’d booked it for their final night. He’d finally get the opportunity to go scuba diving on the Great Barrier Reef before spending a romantic night under the stars …
He shoved that thought aside. But there was no use returning to Sydney. Lincoln could hear Eric now, haranguing him for cutting his holiday short.
‘All right,’ he told Eva. ‘I’ll be home on Wednesday as planned and see Eric then.’ Although he’d call the hospital later today and check on him.
‘Good. I’ll keep you posted. And I wouldn’t worry, Lincoln,’ she said kindly. ‘I’m sure we’ll have an official diagnosis and some news very soon.’
The moment Lincoln hung up, Mirabella’s hand was back on his arm. ‘Are you okay?’
He ran his hand through his hair. ‘I think so …’
Actually, he wasn’t sure. His chest tightened and knees weakened all over again. It was probably shock, but …
‘It’s just strange,’ he admitted as he sank into his chair. Mirabella moved the other adjacent to his and sat too. ‘Eric’s always been so healthy. Yeah, he’s sixty-five, but he exercises and isn’t overweight. You wouldn’t expect him to …’
Lincoln swallowed the lump in his throat and dropped his gaze to his hands. He didn’t care what Eva said. Whether it had been a trans-ischemic whatever or the full-blown CVA … Eric could have died. And that …
Mirabella gripped his hand and squeezed. Hard. ‘Lincoln, look at me.’ He did and found an anchor in her soft, blue eyes. ‘It’s all right. It’s shocking to get this kind of news. Especially about a … a family member.’
He nodded and blew out his breath. ‘Yeah, I guess.’
‘But a stroke can happen to anyone, even if they are fit and healthy. It’s just one of those things.’
‘I suppose.’
‘But I understand, Linc. Really, I do. Eric is your stepfather and despite everything—’
‘He’s important to me.’ And that was the crux of it, wasn’t it? Eric may be his boss, his mentor, someone he looked up to … but he was still the man who’d raised him. Who’d attended his piano recitals and taught him how to drive. And even though Eric hadn’t loved him … Lincoln had always loved Eric.
And the man could have died.
Inhaling, Lincoln felt his pulse begin to race as he fumbled for his phone. ‘I need to call the hospital.’
***
Mirabella’s heart ached but warmed at the same time as she watched Lincoln. While he’d always found negatives about his relationship with Eric, the man was still his stepfather and important to him. If she hadn’t known that already, it was clearly displayed through Lincoln’s determined and serious manner as he spoke to the hospital staff.
He asked all the right questions and seemed to get the answers he wanted as he paced by the pool. He nodded and she watched the tension ease from his shoulders, remaining quiet and patient while hope stupidly rose inside her.
She felt bad about Eric and she didn’t like to see Lincoln worried, but the news that he was looking into his infertility was the best thing she’d heard all week. She was glad to see him taking charge and demanding answers. After all, there had to be one as she’d done her own research during her long, sleepless nights. It was far more likely that Lincoln had a low sperm count than none at all. And if he did produce some, then IVF remained an option.
Mirabella pressed her hand to her belly. She shouldn’t start daydreaming … but she couldn’t help it. She would do it. She’d do IVF if it meant they could have children of their own. This baby she carried could have brothers and sisters. She could have the big, rowdy family she’d always dreamed of with a husband she loved. All of her wishes could come true …
Lincoln sighed as he hung up with the hospital.
‘How is he?’
Slipping the phone into his pocket, he turned to face her. Weariness clouded his eyes. ‘He had a trans-ischemic attack, so I guess that’s better than a stroke. They’ve taken him for tests, but they said he should be okay and that he won’t need to stay overnight.’
Mirabella smiled. ‘That’s good.’
Lincoln nodded, his shoulders slumping. ‘Yeah. I didn’t get to talk to him though …’
Mirabella stood and moved towards him. ‘You can call him later. At least you know he’ll be all right.’
‘I suppose. It’s just …’ Lincoln shook his head. His gaze lingered on the pool before turning to meet hers. ‘Mirabella, he’s the only family I’ve got.’
She smiled softly and took his hand. ‘I know.’
‘And if he’d died …’
She nodded and swallowed back the words she longed to say. You’d be all alone. That’s not what you want, Lincoln. You want a family. You deserve a family.
But she couldn’t say any of that. ‘It would have been awful,’ she said instead, ‘but he didn’t die, Linc.’
‘And for that I’m incredibly grateful.’ He squeezed her hand, held for a moment, then let go. ‘So, you said you want to do something fun?’
‘Yeah …’ Sighing, Mirabella wasn’t sure what would be fun now, but they couldn’t let this event put a damper on their final days together. ‘Do you want to go play mini golf?’
***
Mini golf proved to be a lot of fun, even though Mirabella was sure Lincoln let her win. Of course, he denied doing such a thing as they stopped by the Marina Café for lunch. She ordered the quiche she’d been eyeing last time and enjoyed her meal, but she was also glad to wave Lincoln off as he headed for the go-kart track.
She returned to their room, her heart heavy as she sank onto the edge of her bed. Tossing her hat on the chair, she pulled out her phone and FaceTimed Freya.
Her friend’s smiling face greeted her, followed by calls of, ‘Honey!’
Mirabella grinned, longing for puppy cuddles when her adorable pooch filled the screen. ‘Has she been good?’
‘Honey’s the perfect house guest.’ Freya placed the wriggling chihuahua back on the floor. ‘Not long and you’ll be home though.’
Mirabella grimaced. ‘Yeah, I guess.’
Freya quirked her eyebrow. ‘Not looking forward to it?’
‘I should be. It’ll be nice to get back to reality. I’m so out of touch here. The days are long and relaxing and it’s making me all sorts of crazy.’ Mirabella shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair.
Freya frowned. ‘Mirabella? What’s wrong?’
What’s wrong? Everything! Except Mirabella couldn’t say that as she exhaled and glanced back at her phone. ‘I think … Freya, I think I’m still in love with Lincoln.’
Freya barely blinked. ‘Well, of course you are. Are you only realising this now? You’ve been hung up on the guy since high school!’
Mirabella’s shoulders tightened. ‘I have not!’
‘Yes, you have, Bella.’ Sighing, Freya shook her head. ‘I knew this was going to happen. Remember, I met you shortly after you two split up. I know everything about Lincoln Crawford because he’s all you talked about during our first year at uni.’
‘I know, but—’
‘Yeah, you talked about him less and less as the years went by, but you’re still friends on Facebook, Bella. What does that tell you?’
‘That I don’t cull as often as other people do?’
Freya rolled her eyes. ‘He’s your One, Bella!’
Mirabella blinked and stared at her friend. Her heart lodged in her throat and pounded until she couldn’t breathe. ‘Why have you never said that before?’
Freya shrugged. ‘Why would I? I never had to until now. It’s not like you stayed in touch. You’d go back to Sydney all the time and not see him.’
‘He was married.’
‘Not for the first few years, he wasn’t. You’d visit your mum all the time on university breaks, but you never saw Lincoln. Why was that?’
Mirabella drew in a sharp breath. Oh God, it was all so clear. Yes, she’d realised on Whitehaven Beach that she loved Lincoln, but why had she never stayed in touch? ‘I was afraid …’
‘Exactly.’
Mirabella groaned and ran her hand down her face. ‘Dammit, Freya. What am I going to do? Spending time with him here … it makes me feel young again. He makes me hope. And I just …’
Tears welled in Mirabella’s eyes as Freya shrugged. ‘Tell him how you feel.’
‘But he doesn’t want me!’ Mirabella cried, straining to get the words past her aching throat.
Freya’s lips curved wickedly. ‘Are you sure about that?’
‘Yes.’ Was she? ‘He said he can’t be with me because I’m pregnant. Dammit, Freya, we kissed and he told me he can’t be a father to my child. I practically threw myself at him last night and, again, he resisted. And not because he doesn’t want me …’ Mirabella swallowed and pressed her hand to her belly. ‘He doesn’t want my baby.’
And Lincoln was right. She couldn’t put that on her child.
But Freya remained determined. ‘You can’t let your chance go, Mirabella.’
She rolled her eyes as a wave of frustration rolled through her. ‘Why are you pushing this? You’re the one who told me not to chase him. To leave him alone. That I’d get hurt.’
‘Yeah, but you didn’t listen. Now, you have nothing left to lose. So, you need to tell him.’
Mirabella sighed. Freya was right. She was scared, oh so scared, but there was hope. Wasn’t there? He might remember how important family was after he returned home to see Eric. He might realise that he could have a family after he discovered the truth about his infertility. It might all come together.
‘All right.’ Mirabella inhaled and gathered her courage. ‘I’ll tell him.’
But she’d leave it until their final night together. Then, when he rejected her again, she’d be free to escape back to Melbourne and nurse her broken heart.
***
The art class wasn’t what Mirabella had expected, but as she mixed her blues and painted the different shades of the ocean, her crazy thoughts disappeared. It was just her, the paint, the canvas, and the instructor explaining about shading from dark to light. Mirabella paid only slight attention, as she knew how to mix colours and work with acrylic paint, but she didn’t allow creativity to take her off on a tangent either.
They were painting an island. It seemed simple at first, but they would add complexities by shading in bushes and palm trees to bring the image to life. The lady on the other side of the table had strongly doubted her skills, but her painting was coming along beautifully.
Mirabella added white to her sea green and finished her shoreline. Lifting her paintbrush, she studied her work. Not too bad. She’d captured what appeared to be quite a stormy ocean—probably to match the feelings raging inside her.
Sighing, she placed her brush down. She wasn’t supposed to be thinking about Lincoln. She was supposed to be enjoying herself. Relaxing and letting herself go in the one activity she loved above all others.
Yet, her heart continued to race as she painted in her sandbank. How was she going to tell Lincoln that she loved him? What would he say? She doubted he’d return her feelings. Or if he did …
Mirabella shook her head, forcing Lincoln out of her mind as she mixed brown into her green to create the background of her island. Painting in the ridges of the mountain, she focused on the task at hand. And in the end, she’d produced a stunning painting of a solitary island beneath a bright blue sky surrounded by a stormy sea. It was simple and not her best work, but she was proud of her efforts nonetheless and glad to have something to take home.
She returned to the room to meet up with Lincoln. His eyes widened when she showed him the painting.
‘Wow. I should commission you to paint something for me before you get too famous and I can’t afford you.’
Mirabella laughed and ignored the blush that heated her cheeks. ‘Go right ahead. I could probably use the money.’
It was supposed to be a joke, but the moment the words were out, Mirabella’s heart sank. Dammit.
‘Bella …’
She shook her head and turned to stand the canvas on her bedside table. ‘Never mind. I’ll be okay. So, what do you want to do for dinner?’
Lincoln paused before replying. ‘It’s four-thirty.’
‘Right.’ Mirabella rolled her eyes at herself. What was she thinking? She took a deep breath before slipping her hands into her pockets and turning to face him. ‘How about a swim then?’
***
Lincoln stood on the balcony and leaned his elbows on the banister, gazing out over the ocean as he spoke to Eric the following morning. ‘I’m glad you’re all right.’
‘Yeah, me too, mate.’ It comforted him to hear cheer in Eric’s voice. ‘And thanks for not rushing down here.’
Lincoln swallowed, the knot in his chest hardening. ‘You know I would have.’
‘Yeah, but I couldn’t let you cut your holiday short.’
Lincoln straightened and stretched his back. He’d hardly have been cutting his holiday short. Tomorrow they’d leave for their Great Barrier Reef tour and stay overnight on the Heart Pontoon before flying back to Sydney. Where he’d finally be free.
Lincoln grimaced. He should be relieved that the trip was almost over. It was what he wanted—to be free of Mirabella’s torture. When they returned to Sydney, they could part ways and he could finally put her out of his mind.
So why did that thought make him ache?
Because you want her, you fool!
Lincoln’s heart lurched. He shook his head and forced that annoying voice away as he focused on Eric. ‘Yeah, I guess. Besides, I haven’t gone scuba diving yet.’
‘And that’s something you don’t want to miss out on, Linc. It’s supposed to be an amazing experience.’
‘Yeah, I’m looking forward to it.’
‘Plus, I doubt you’d want to leave your pretty Mirabella …’
Lincoln’s throat tightened. It took an effort to keep his voice calm and controlled as he said, ‘She’s not my Mirabella.’
‘Why the heavens not?’
Lincoln frowned at the surprise in Eric’s voice. ‘Because.’
‘That’s not a reason, Lincoln.’
He sighed and scratched the back of his neck. He couldn’t tell Eric the reason. He couldn’t say ‘You’re the reason, Eric. If only you had loved me, then I might have faith that I could love Mirabella’s child.’
Lincoln tried to shake that thought from his head, but it wouldn’t budge. It’d been plaguing him ever since he’d realised that he might be able to have children. Even if they were conceived in a Petri dish, they would be his children. They’d be from him. A part of him. And if he wanted that … then there was no one else he wanted to have them with than Mirabella.
He couldn’t deny himself a family. Not if it was possible. Because if he didn’t make his own family, then one day he’d have none at all. Eric’s trans-ischemic attack had reminded him of that. He was all Lincoln had and he wouldn’t live forever. Who would Lincoln have come rushing to his bedside if he had a stroke? Who would he have to care for? Who would he spend Christmas with?
No one.
But that didn’t mean he wouldn’t fail to love Marc’s child, so unfortunately, Mirabella still wasn’t an option. She was in his past and there she would remain.
He had a future full of possibilities if he stuck to his plan. He would seek adventure. He’d skydive in Hawaii. He’d hike in Nepal and trek the Great Wall of China. Then one day, he’d meet a woman he could create a family with—if his sperm was viable for IVF. Just the thought of that gave Lincoln hope, which was exactly what he’d come to Hamilton Island to find. Hope for his future.
His world hadn’t come to an end and he had Mirabella to thank for that. If it hadn’t been for her offer to make him part of her family, then he might never have thought to question his infertility. He might still be running from it, throwing his hands in the air and tossing the situation into the ‘too hard’ basket.
He’d always be grateful to Mirabella for that. Just as he was grateful for Eric not dying yesterday.
‘Look, it just can’t work between us,’ Lincoln said as he sank into the wooden deckchair. Exhaling, he hastily changed the subject. ‘So, what did the doctors say you do now?’
‘Just take things easy and get on with life. I follow up with my GP this afternoon.’
The tension inside him eased. ‘Good. Well, keep me posted.’
‘Will do, Linc. You enjoy the rest of your trip now.’
‘I will.’
But ‘enjoy’ didn’t seem like the right word. ‘Survive’ was more fitting.
***
The hike to Flat Top Hill Lookout was easier the second time around and was just what Mirabella needed to clear her head. She’d felt more fatigued these past few days and welcomed the solitary bench that awaited her. Another pregnancy symptom, she supposed. That, or she was just emotionally exhausted from her confusing feelings for Lincoln.
Exhaling, Mirabella twisted the cap off her water bottle and wet her parched throat. She beheld the stunning view as her pulse settled and sweat evaporated from her brow. The sun hung high over Dent Island, which gave her hours to relax among the bush landscape and sketch to her heart’s content. And any time away from Lincoln was relaxing when tomorrow, she’d be stuck with him overnight on a pontoon in the middle of the ocean.
Mirabella shook her head as she took her sketchbook from her bag and unpacked her pencils. She only wished it wasn’t so hot as she tried to push Lincoln from her mind. Eventually, she found peace as time slipped away and she allowed creativity to take over. Drawing had always been her best therapy, just like running and yoga.
Her mind emptied as she started her outlines of the hills and the ocean, and then pencilled in the hotel towers. She didn’t have the time to spend on the finer details, but she’d be happy with even the simplest sketch to capture her memories. After all, come Wednesday, memories would be all she’d have of her time on Hamilton Island when she and Lincoln went their separate ways.
Mirabella winced as a fist clenched around her heart. Her hand paused over her drawing as she lifted her gaze and absorbed the majesty that lay before her.
It really had been too good to be true. A spur-of-the-moment runaway to a romantic destination … Just the two of them …
If they were any other couple, it might have worked. But if almost losing his stepfather hadn’t awoken the desire for family within Lincoln, then she wasn’t sure what would. Either way, Freya was right—she had nothing left to lose. She’d been hung up on Lincoln Crawford most of her adult life. She’d dated, but no man had ever measured up. She’d never loved anyone else. And he couldn’t possibly hurt her any more than he already had this trip, so one more rejection wouldn’t kill her. Surely.
The thought of him doing exactly that terrified her to her very soul, but not as much as not telling him. She’d tried showing him, had tried to ease him into it, but tomorrow night, she had no choice but to be upfront and honest. She would tell Lincoln exactly how she felt. And when stranded on the remote reef, he wouldn’t have the opportunity to walk away.
If he rejected her, then she’d accept that. She would move on. She’d still move back to Sydney, but she wouldn’t have Lincoln in her life. Not even as a friend when she wanted so much more.
Mirabella continued to sketch, her thoughts drifting in and out until the light dimmed and she realised the sun had dipped below the hills of Dent Island. Dammit, time really did lose all meaning when she was stuck in a drawing.
She placed her pencil down and held the picture out in front of her. There were a few finer details she’d like to touch up, but she could do that later. First, she needed to get back to the hotel before Lincoln started to worry.
She packed her things away and hoisted her bag onto her back before starting down the track in the fading light. To celebrate their last night, Lincoln had decided to treat them to dinner at Bommie Restaurant, one of the most superb places to eat on the island and the only one they hadn’t tried because it was a four-course meal at over one hundred dollars per person. But Lincoln had insisted and who was Mirabella to complain? She only wished she had something else to wear other than the little black dress she’d worn on the dinner cruise. Not that it mattered what she wore. Lincoln remained resistant, despite the desire that continued to pass through his eyes whenever he looked at her.
Sighing, she brushed her hair off her face as she returned to Saddle Junction. She glanced down the gloomy bush pathway and gulped. Dammit, she should have paid more attention to the time, but the quicker she went, the sooner she’d arrive and beat the darkening sky.
Venturing into the trees, Mirabella cursed as the gradient steepened. Her heart began to pound. Stupid, stupid, stupid! What had she been thinking?
She exhaled as the path flattened, but she could barely see where she was going. Taking out her phone, she activated the torch. It hadn’t taken long to get down last time, so she’d be back any minute. Yet, she remained careful as she arrived at a steep slope lined with matting. She went slowly and kept her knees bent as she inched her way down. Her heart pounded even harder. This really had been a stupid idea.
But she made it down that slope and hurried along the flat path as it weaved in and out of trees. If there was light, she’d have a magnificent view of the ocean. But unfortunately, she saw nothing past the beam of her torch until she rounded the corner and the resort lights came into view. Her shoulders sagged as she breathed a sigh of relief. She was almost there. Just a little …
Then her foot slipped on some gravel and Mirabella fell, the phone tumbling from her hand.