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Chapter Thirteen

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“I NEED ANOTHER BOX of tissues,” Jace said.

It was two days after Sam and Ginger’s wedding, Monday the eighteenth of December. The secretaries had gone to town on the offices, and fairy lights flashed on and off all day, while tinsel twinkled around the door frames, and every desk had a miniature Christmas tree with baubles and chocolates and tiny fiber-optic lights.

The law firm was as busy as ever. It was a sad truth, but if Jace had learned one thing through being a family lawyer, it was that Christmas was often the catalyst for an explosion of family problems. The holiday had a way of bringing things to a head, whether that be a division between which family a couple spent time with, to who was supposed to look after the children, to money issues that invariably caused a rift between parents trying to provide for their kids.

His assistant, Martin, got a box out of the cupboard and handed it to him, his face full of pity. “You all right in there?”

“Tough case,” Jace said. “Sorting this one out is like having someone reach into your chest and rip out your heart.”

“Want me in there as moral support?”

“Nah, I’m good, but thanks for the offer.” He paused at the door, took a deep breath, then went back in.

Tim Baker was sitting on one of the comfy seats in front of his desk, leaning forward, his elbows on his knees, his head hanging. As Jace came in, he straightened and reached for the tissue box without meeting Jace’s eyes. “Sorry, man.”

“No worries.” Jace sat back in the seat opposite and pushed his notes away. It was unusual for a man to be in tears in his office, but it wasn’t the first time. An acrimonious divorce had been known to bring more than one guy to his knees.

Tim was a fellow member of the rugby club. Jace knew him, although not well. His wife had walked in on him in bed with another woman, and the next day she’d filed for divorce with the promise that she was going to take him for everything she could get.

Tim wiped his face and blew his nose, then sat back and looked out of the window disconsolately. “I know I deserve it,” he said, his voice sad. “But does she have to be so mean about it? Especially just before Christmas.”

Jace suppressed a sigh. It was common for clients to treat him as a counsellor, a role for which he most certainly wasn’t trained. Neither did he have the experience of being married or divorced. He had common sense, but he was sure many people would say that was seriously flawed.

But he did have a heart, and he hoped he had an ability to put himself in other people’s shoes and to try to understand why they made the decisions they did.

Tim shouldn’t have cheated on his wife. There was no arguing it, and that was why the guy would end up losing half of his possessions, his house, and time with his baby girl.

But the story didn’t end there. Even before Tim had told him everything, Jace had known there was more to it than that, because events are rarely born fully formed; everything has a background and a reason why, even if it is misguided. There would still be a context, he knew, a reason in Tim’s past that had caused him to act the way he did.

Tim had told him that the first few years of his marriage had been good, but that things had gone downhill when his wife fell pregnant. With much embarrassment, but an obvious need to talk to someone, Tim had admitted to Jace that although everyone said pregnancy was a beautiful thing, he’d found the whole business unpleasant and, to be honest, a complete turnoff. He’d had trouble getting an erection while making love after she began to show, the thought of there being a person inside her turning his stomach. Ever since then, he’d been unable to get it up.

He knew the problem was his, and he would have been willing to see a doctor and maybe get some Viagra or something, but instead of being understanding and trying to help him through it, Immi Baker—knowing he found her pregnant body revolting—had seen it as a rejection, and a weakness on Tim’s part. She’d begun to mock him, not just in private, but in front of their friends and family. When their child was born, she’d made him move into the spare room, so she could have the baby in bed with her. And there he’d stayed for the next two years. They had tried several times to have sex, but now he had the pressure of performing to add to his memory of her giving birth, and his problem had persisted. Immi had turned her back on him, treating him like a stranger in his own home. Lonely and miserable, he’d confided in a woman at work, and—possibly in retaliation for Immi’s rejection, and maybe to prove to himself that it wasn’t all his fault—he’d ended up going to bed with the woman. He’d been thrilled to be able to get it up and they’d just gotten going, and then Immi had walked in on them—the week before Christmas.

“It’s just an excuse to get rid of me,” he said listlessly. “She forced me to have an affair so she wouldn’t be to blame and then she could take everything.” He looked at Jace, his face earnest. “You understand though, right? I mean, they tell us pregnancy is so beautiful, and the woman’s going to be all radiant, and childbirth is amazing, but it’s not like that at all. She was sick every day for the first four months. She was tired all the time, and irritable. The thought of there being a living thing inside her was like something out of Alien. And as for childbirth...” He shuddered. “Honestly, man, it was revolting. They wanted me to cut the cord. I nearly threw up. And breastfeeding almost put me off breasts for life. How a guy is supposed to want to have sex with a woman after seeing her give birth, let alone go down on her, is beyond me.”

Jace kept his expression carefully neutral. “I can see where you’re coming from. There are a lot of expectations around guys nowadays to be men of the world, but it’s not for everyone.”

Truthfully, though, he found Tim’s attitude puzzling. He’d never given pregnancy a lot of thought before. It was like jumping out of an airplane—other people did it, and he could sort of understand the sense of achievement that came with it, but he wasn’t sure he wanted anything to do with it.

For the first time, though, he wondered what it would be like to be a father. To make love without condoms, knowing you might be creating a baby. Making a whole new person! That was so weird. And yet, he couldn’t bring himself to feel the horror and disgust that Tim obviously felt about the process. The idea of a woman bearing his child gave Jace goose bumps. He could imagine feeling a fierce surge of protectiveness toward her. Would he find her pregnant body repulsive? He tried to imagine a woman, his ring on her finger, taking his hand to rest on her bump as their baby kicked. Watching her going through childbirth and bringing that baby into the world. He couldn’t summon any distaste. Only curiosity and a prickle of fascination. Even breastfeeding didn’t turn him off. Actually, there was very little that turned Jace off sex. He rather liked the idea of exploring her changing body with her.

He felt a jolt inside as he realized it was Sandi Cartwright he was picturing with a bump and his ring on her finger. It wasn’t really surprising, considering she’d been on his mind permanently for the last forty-eight hours. Still, it was quite a jump to fantasize about marriage and knocking her up when they’d only been to bed once. Well, twice, if you counted the evening and the next morning. His lips curved up.

“Do you think?” Tim asked.

Jace blinked, aware he’d switched off and not heard Tim’s question at all. “Absolutely,” he plumped for, relieved when Tim nodded.

He might not agree with his client’s attitude or actions, but as his lawyer it was his role to represent him to the best of his ability. “We’ll do our utmost to make sure you’re treated fairly,” he said.

“She’ll want to take everything,” Tim said. “She’ll want to stop me seeing my daughter.”

“I won’t let that happen,” Jace said firmly. “You might have been indiscreet, but you’ve done nothing to suggest you wouldn’t be a good father to baby Abby.”

“Indiscreet?” Tim frowned.

“You slept with another woman in your marital bed with your daughter’s Christmas presents in the wardrobe next to you. Whatever your reasoning, you can’t deny that.” Jace spoke more harshly than he’d meant.

Tim looked at his hands. “Yeah, you’re right. I know.”

Jace gritted his teeth. “Hey, I’m just stating a fact—it’s not my place to act as judge and jury. I’m on your side, and I will be all the way through this, okay?”

“Sure.” Tim got to his feet, and Jace followed. They shook hands, and Tim headed for the door.

“I’ll let you know as soon as I hear from Mrs. Baker’s lawyer,” Jace said.

Tim hesitated for a moment. Then he said, “I did love her, you know.”

“I know. That’s what makes it harder, unfortunately.”

Tim nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Jace stared after him, then turned and walked over to the window.

The law firm was on the first floor of a building in the center of Kerikeri, and his window overlooked the domain—the small park behind the town center, between the rugby club, the supermarket, and the high school at the far end.

Not far from his window was a children’s playground. A shade sail sheltered the toddlers playing there from the sun. One was coming down the slide; several were kicking their legs on the swings. The one on the slide looked like Beth, with her hair in bunches and wearing a well-worn princess dress with a piece of tinsel wrapped around her waist.

He’d spoken to Beth yesterday. It had been her third birthday. He’d talked to her on FaceTime on his iPad, and after telling him what she’d had for tea and what program she’d just watched on TV, she’d told him a joke.

“What do you call a cow that eats your grass?”

“I don’t know, sweetheart,” he’d said. “What do you call a cow that eats your grass?”

“A lawn moo-er!” She’d subsided into infectious giggles, and he’d laughed and told her it was the best joke in the world.

Lizzie, her mother, had taken the iPad from her daughter as Beth had run off, and rolled her eyes at him.

“Best joke I’ve heard all week,” he’d said with a smile.

She’d smiled at him. “How did the wedding go?”

“Great.” He’d stretched out on the sofa in his living room and tucked an arm under his head.

“Did you lose the rings?”

“Only the once.”

“Oh my God!”

He’d snorted. “Of course I didn’t.”

“I can’t believe someone wanted you to be best man. Your friend obviously didn’t know what he was letting himself in for.” She’d given him a hesitant smile then. “Look, I know you probably don’t want to hear this, but Jilly wants to talk to you.”

He’d sat up then, his heart racing. “Liz, come on...”

“Please,” Lizzie had begged, and she’d gestured to someone off screen. “She’s here for Beth’s birthday party, and she just wants to say hi. It is Christmas.”

A flash of blue material had appeared at the corner of the screen as someone moved into shot. Jace hadn’t waited to see any more. He’d snapped the cover of the iPad shut.

Then he’d thrown the tablet across the room.

Now, standing in his office looking down at the park, his spirits sank. He’d done his best to put the incident behind him, but Tim had brought him down again. It wasn’t Tim’s fault, but the whole conversation had left Jace feeling as if insects were crawling over his skin.

If the guy had been unhappy in his marriage, he should have done his best to repair it, Jace thought, and if that hadn’t worked, he should have walked. Not had an affair. He hated the indecency of it. The secrecy it would have entailed, the lying.

Talk about two-faced.

He shook his head. He hadn’t lied to anyone, not directly. If anyone asked him a question about his past or his family, he just made a joke or changed the subject. Anyway, it was nobody else’s business. He’d come here to start a new life, and he’d carved out a place for himself in the Bay of Islands. He was happy here, wasn’t he? He kept in touch with Lizzie because he loved her and missed her, and he wanted to make sure she and Beth were all right. But every other part of his past was dead and gone.

Except it wasn’t, and that was the problem. All he’d done was sweep it under the carpet. It still existed there, a huge lump that tripped him up every time he tried to walk away.

There was a knock at the door. Jace turned to see Martin’s head peering around.

“Sorry,” Martin said. “There’s someone here asking whether you’ve got a minute.”

Jace gave an impatient sigh—he had a mountain of work to do. But he forced a smile on his face. “Sure. Who is it?”

Martin checked the note in his hand. “Alexandra?”

Jace frowned. “I don’t know anyone called Alexandra. Is she a client?”

“Apparently not—she said it’s personal.”

Personal... Jace’s eyes widened as he thought about how the name could be shortened. Surely not.

Walking past Martin, he strode down the corridor, a smile spreading across his face.