‘WHAT DO YOU MEAN?’ There was an urgency in the question that had the answer spilling from her lips.
‘Things would have been different for us if I’d had that test done.’
‘How?’
‘I wouldn’t have worried as much about the lump. I wouldn’t have felt as though I had to leave to protect you from it. From me.’ She rubbed her arms. ‘I wouldn’t have doubted my decisions. Every one of them, since my mother died.’ She laughed breathlessly. ‘Since long before it, actually. But then it was for different reasons.’ She shook her head, hoping her words made sense to him. She took a breath. ‘We wouldn’t be here if I’d had that test done.’
‘Wouldn’t we?’
It was the only comment he made. She’d ripped her heart out to tell him that—and that was all he said.
Not that she could blame him. He was right. Their relationship would have taken this turn eventually. There’d been too many things left unsaid between them. Too many cracks in their foundation. Neither of them had noticed it before. But it would have come out eventually. And their relationship would have crumbled down around them, just as it had now.
‘I’m tired of hoping with my mother.’
‘What?’
‘It started when I was so young I can’t remember anything other than the hope.’ Something unreadable crossed his face. ‘But, as I got older, I realised that I’d keep hoping, even when she’d prove to me that it wasn’t worth the pain. Like when she got sick. I hoped she’d change.’
Understanding he was offering her something with this, she nodded. ‘But she didn’t.’
He shook his head. ‘It wasn’t that I was hoping for too much. I just wanted her to change her behaviour so I wouldn’t have to keep fixing things for her. And—’ he hesitated ‘—I wanted her to be there for me like I’d been there for her.’ He paused. ‘I put my life on hold when she found out she had cancer. It made me realise how much the fact that she was my mother meant to me, however complicated our relationship was. But even a life-changing event like cancer couldn’t make her change.’ Another pause. ‘She used her birthday to manipulate us, knowing how important it would be to you.’ He shook his head again. ‘It’s not as easy to forgive her as you’ve made it seem.’
She wondered what he would say if she told him that this was part of why she’d left. He’d never told her this before, but it had clarified things for her. Because she’d sensed some of how he felt. Enough to understand that Aaron would have put his life on hold for her too, if she’d had cancer.
And if she’d had cancer she would have become the person she’d been running from her entire life. Anxious, bitter. Terrified of death. She would have become her mother.
The lump had catapulted her in that direction anyway. Had awoken the seed of fear she hadn’t known had been buried inside her. But it had grown so quickly Rosa had known she couldn’t stay. She couldn’t let him see her become her mother. She couldn’t let him go through that pain. Because now, hearing him say this... It made her fully appreciate how painful it would have been for him to be at her side.
‘Aaron—’
‘We should get to bed,’ he said, not meeting her eyes. He set his mug down, his tea untouched.
‘You don’t want to—’ She broke off when he sent her a beseeching look, and she nodded. He’d given her enough. He didn’t want to talk about it any more. And, if she were honest with herself, neither did she.
‘It’s probably for the best to get to bed. To finally get a decent night’s sleep.’
‘You didn’t sleep well last night?’ he asked in a wry tone that sounded forced.
‘It’ll go better tonight, I’m sure.’ After the briefest hesitation, she leaned over and brushed a kiss on his forehead. ‘I’m sorry. For all of it.’ She left before he could reply.
As she climbed into bed she heard Aaron’s footsteps pass her door. When the sound stopped, she held her breath, anticipation fluttering through her. But then the footsteps continued, and she blew out the air she’d been holding in her lungs.
She wasn’t sure why she’d reacted that way. Or what she would have done if Aaron had entered her room.
No, she thought, shutting her eyes. She knew exactly what she would have done.
And that was part of the problem.
* * *
When the sun woke Rosa the next morning, she wasn’t surprised. Cape Town was famous for its unpredictable weather. And, since Mariner’s Island was only thirty kilometres from Cape Town, the weather was pretty much the same there too.
Which was great, she mused, since the restlessness she’d felt the night before—when she’d thought Aaron might be coming into her room to seduce her—was still with her. But sunshine meant escape. And, right now, escape meant going for a run on the beach.
It wasn’t ideal running gear, she mused as she looked at herself in the mirror. Most of what she was wearing had come from Liana’s closet and, since her mother-in-law was smaller than her, the outfit wasn’t quite appropriate for a run.
But the tank top would keep her boobs in place, and she’d replaced her ridiculous lace underwear with Liana’s yoga tights. Again, not ideal, but it would have to do. Though she breathed a sigh of relief when she found a long, loose T-shirt of her own that would cover most of it.
When she’d tied her running shoes—Liana’s—she stepped out of the room and made her way to the front door.
‘Rosa?’
She spun around, her heart racing when she saw Aaron on the couch in the front room. His shirt was only half buttoned, revealing smooth muscular skin. It stopped just below his crotch, which she hadn’t noticed before. Perhaps because, before, he’d been wearing pants.
She cleared her throat. ‘You slept here last night?’
He lifted a hand to his hair and she fought to keep her eyes on his face. ‘Yeah. None of the bedrooms were...comfortable.’
She nodded. ‘I’m...er...going for a run.’
‘A run?’ He arched a brow. ‘That bad, huh?’
She managed a smile. ‘Just some restless energy.’
‘Up for some company?’
She shook her head. ‘It won’t be for long.’
‘Okay.’
Though his expression was unreadable, something in his tone gave her pause. And then it hit her. He hadn’t been uncomfortable. He’d been watching out for her. He’d slept in the front room because he’d thought that she might leave.
Guilt knocked the breath from her and she forced herself out of the door before she did something about it.
* * *
He kept himself busy. Which was exactly what he’d done when she’d left the last time—so he wouldn’t go crazy.
Now, though, it seemed ridiculous. He’d seen what she was wearing. And she’d left without any of her things. She wasn’t leaving, leaving. Besides, where would she go? It was Sunday; the airport was still closed. She couldn’t escape Mariner’s Island even if she wanted to.
He clenched his jaw and continued preparing their breakfast. Ignored the voice that mocked him for being so desperate about not letting his wife leave him that he’d slept on the couch.
When he heard the front door open, the air began to move more easily in and out of his lungs. He made coffee and, by the time she came upstairs after a shower, had a cup ready for her.
‘Did it work?’ he asked as he handed her the cup. Her mouth curved. So, she wasn’t going to pretend she didn’t know what he was talking about.
‘A little.’
‘You were gone a while.’
‘I was coming back.’
‘I know.’
But something pulsed between them that confirmed she knew he hadn’t been sure of it.
‘How is it outside?’
She quirked a brow. ‘Are we talking about the weather now?’
A faint smile claimed his lips as he nodded. ‘Unless you have something else you want to talk about?’
‘Oh, no,’ she said dryly. ‘The weather’s fine. It’s cool, with a south-easterly wind. Not quite swimming weather, folks.’
His smile widened. ‘You sound exactly like her.’
‘Cherry du Pont,’ she said with a smile. ‘The weather woman we listened to every morning for years.’ She lifted a shoulder. ‘I should hope I know what she sounds like.’
‘Have you been listening to her by yourself?’
He wasn’t sure what had made him ask it. And when she tilted her head, studied him, he was sure she didn’t want to answer it. Surprise fluttered through him when she did.
‘Some days. When I felt—’ her eyes swept away from him ‘—when I felt lonely, or missed you.’ She shifted away from the table, went to the glass door overlooking the beach. ‘Most days, actually,’ she continued. ‘But then I’d force myself out of it, and start working. I managed to do an entire line that way.’
She gave him a cheeky smile over her shoulder and looked back at the beach before he could smile back. Good thing, as he wasn’t going to smile back. No, he felt as if he could barely move, could barely think over her words echoing in his head.
When I...missed you... Most days...
He wanted to ask her why she hadn’t come back then. Didn’t she think they could be saved? Didn’t she think that whatever she was going through they could go through together?
‘It was because of you that I did it,’ she said, breaking through his thoughts.
He cleared his throat. ‘What was because of me?’
‘The line.’ She turned back now and walked to the stack of French toast he’d made earlier. She put two slices on a plate and squeezed honey over it.
‘What does the line have to do with me?’
She looked at him and he saw understanding flood her eyes. She knew what her words had done to him. Perhaps that was why she kept talking.
‘The line. For bigger women.’ She went to the couch with her coffee and her toast.
He stacked his own plate with toast and bacon, and then went to sit opposite her. ‘Why now?’
‘I don’t know.’
‘Rosa.’
She looked at him. ‘It’s not an easy reason.’
His stomach clenched. ‘Tell me.’
‘I don’t think—’
‘Rosa,’ he said again. He injected as much patience as he could into his tone, and unspoken words passed between them.
Tell me.
You won’t like it.
Tell me anyway.
‘I guess... Well, at first it was practical. And the reasons that had kept me from doing it were no longer much of an issue. Being a prominent lawyer’s wife had done wonders for my own designs. And the people who wore them because of your mother.’ She gave him a smile that was marked by sadness. ‘Anyway, it seemed like the right time to do it.’
‘At first,’ he said quietly. ‘You said at first.’
‘And you would pick up on that, wouldn’t you?’ she asked in the same tone. But she nodded. ‘It also...made me feel close to you.’
Surprise and emotion punched his heart. He nodded. ‘Okay.’
‘Okay,’ she repeated, though it wasn’t a question. And that was the last thing either of them said for a while.
They started eating in silence and by the time they’d finished their meal he realised it was his turn. He debated what would be the best way to tell her. Began speaking before he’d fully decided.
‘The expansion,’ he said, setting down his plate. ‘It’s a firm in Cape Town.’
‘Cape Town?’
He nodded. ‘Frank’s been nagging me for a while. It seemed like the right time.’
They’d both used that phrase to explain what they’d been doing while they’d been away from one another. And now that Aaron had said it he realised that the ‘right time’ merely meant that they’d needed to occupy their time. With things that felt like work but reminded them of each other.
‘In hindsight, maybe going for a run wasn’t such a good idea,’ Rosa said suddenly. He turned in time to see her set down her empty cup and plate and push back her hair. Her face was a bit pale and when she looked at him her eyes were dim.
‘You’re not feeling well?’
‘I feel...off.’ She shifted to the front of her seat. ‘Though that could be because I went for a jog. It’s...been a while.’ She gave him a weak smile.
‘You should rest.’
‘Maybe,’ she replied with a frown. And then she stood and when he saw that she wasn’t entirely steady he moved beside her and told her to lean on him.
‘This is probably an overreaction.’ He grunted in response. ‘I’m fine, really.’
He looked over at her as he led her to the bed. ‘You’re tired.’
‘So are you.’
He grunted again.
‘We’re not letting each other sleep very well, are we?’
‘You’re going to sleep now.’
‘That sounds like a threat.’
‘It is.’ But he smiled at her and said softly, ‘Get some sleep.’
‘Okay.’
He watched as she settled down. Felt an ache in his heart that he’d ignored for months but couldn’t any more. He didn’t know how long he sat at the edge of the bed, making sure she was okay. But when he shifted to leave he felt a hand on his forearm.
Her eyes were still closed when he looked back, but her grip on his arm was firm. And after a short moment of deliberation he let himself relax beside her.
A mistake, he knew instantly. There were boundaries, as she’d said, and he wanted now, more than ever, to keep those boundaries. He understood them. Because they didn’t know where they stood with one another. He didn’t know.
And, he considered as he held his breath as Rosa snuggled back against him, he didn’t think she did either.
What he needed to do was get up and go downstairs. He needed to put distance between them. So that when, the next day, they left and went back to the separate lives they’d forged for themselves it wouldn’t hurt as much.
And he thought it might not. Now that he knew the circumstances of why she’d left, he realised that it had less to do with him and more to do with her. Logically. Except it still felt as if it was to do with him. Just like he’d thought it was for every moment of those last four months.
Since he couldn’t stop himself from feeling it, he figured there must be some truth in it, regardless of what she said. And, honestly, he couldn’t blame her.