In the few brief occasions she’d had time to think during the long, busy night on the maternity ward, Ava had smiled with a mixture of fierce soaring pride and plunging bittersweet regret at the memory of Zac’s management of Hana’s birth. He may not have remembered Jessamine’s breech births, but he’d done everything right tonight and she wished she could tell him so.
It could have turned out much differently for Hana and her baby if the precipitate delivery had been managed by someone who hadn’t been able to trust and leave well alone until needed. Baby and mum were both great thanks to Zac.
Ava was also thankful to have been lucky enough to be there for the end, to see the birth and to be with her brother and his wife this morning. It was a shame it had been so busy and she hadn’t had much time to visit the special-care nursery to soak in her new niece and the starry-eyed wonder of Jock’s joy. Hana, of course, had been amazing.
Yes, Zac had been great, but Ava wouldn’t tell him. She couldn’t tell him.
Because she was done.
Finished.
Over.
The pain of loss was too great and she’d be going home to her family as soon as Hana left the hospital. She wouldn’t be back in Alice until he’d gone. She might even go to Weipa.
Zac Logan had been a comet in her past and their love had disappeared without a telltale trail.
A little break in Arnhem Land sounds perfect, she thought, jollying herself along. It was nice to think of somewhere different. During her uni studies for nursing, she’d shone in tropical medicine, and the lure of steamy – as opposed to searing, oven-like – heat had always seemed particularly exotic to her.
Her mother and grandmother were strong single women. She could be one too.
She would not see Zac Logan again.
Except when the clock reached seven-thirty, and she pushed open the ward’s door, a tall, dark-haired, serious man was waiting for her in the hallway.
And as had happened once before, he asked simply, ‘Can we meet for breakfast?’
Another fragile part of her heart broke. ‘No.’
There, she’d said it.
Except this time he added, ‘At our hotel?’
She frowned at the ‘our’, and notwithstanding her brain shrieking no, and all the arguments she’d assembled in a neat stack that now threatened to topple onto her, she sighed. He’d said ‘our hotel’. Her mouth opened to refuse again, but instead she heard herself say, ‘I’ll be there in a while.’
And here she was. Why am I doing this to myself? she asked herself for the millionth time.
He stood when he saw her enter and remained by the table – the same table – with her tea waiting, and the same waiter hovering nearby.
Zac came around to meet her, and instead of pulling out her chair he took her hand and lifted her fingers to his lips, then kissed her palm. ‘I’m sorry,’ he murmured. Then he pulled her towards him, gently, slowly, watching her face, asking her with his eyes to trust him, staring into her soul as if she was the woman he loved more than life itself.
Oh, too, too cruel. I can’t do this. Her chest struggled to get enough air. ‘I can’t do rejection again, Zac. What are you doing?’ She stared at him for a second more and then, incredulously, felt the realisation crash in on her.
‘I remember,’ he said simply.
‘You’re back?
He nodded.
‘You remember?’ she asked again, afraid to believe.
Again he nodded. Her eyes stung and she blinked away the distortion of tears because she wanted to stare at him. To see in his face that it was true. He looked like he wanted to crush her to him, just as somebody cleared their throat, and they both glanced around at the interested breakfast diners.
Zac lifted his head, daring anyone to complain, and stepped closer to her. ‘My poor, darling Ava.’ He pulled her against his chest, wrapped his big, beautiful, loving arms around her, and for the first time in weeks she felt herself come alive. His smile made her want to melt. ‘I really did hope I would remember,’ he said, and his other hand came up and trapped her face to hold her still, as if he intended to infinitely savour the next moment. She held still, barely able to wait.
Their lips touched, ever so gently, and with the first warmth of his mouth, the first inhalation of his breath, her breath caught and held as she too remembered. When his mouth brushed hers again, and his hands slid down to pull her closer against him, all the memories rushed back because she knew this was what she’d hoped for.
‘I remember,’ he repeated, his voice low and vibrant. ‘I remember it all. Everything came back after Hana gave birth.’
‘Everything?’ She didn’t think she could believe this after he had sat here yesterday and said the opposite.
‘All of it. All of you. All of us.’ Then he pulled back and gazed deeply into her eyes. ‘You’re so pale,’ he said and hurriedly pulled out her chair. ‘What have I done to you? Sit.’
She sank into the chair, suddenly glad to be off her jelly legs. He kept hold of her hand as he went around the table to his own chair, watching her the whole time, then caught her other hand so he had all of her fingers – like he was waltzing around her. Her hands looked so small in his. Clasped in his.
Words drifted over her head like feathers falling in a dream. ‘I remember I love you. I remember I want to spend the rest of my life with you.’
It was true. She couldn’t believe this was happening. A tiny voice whispered, Why can’t you believe it? Suddenly, the dream popped like a soap bubble on its way to the sky. She slid her hands from his and sat back. She mentally stepped back as well and stared at him, blowing out a long stream of held breath.
Yes, she wanted to believe him, but … ‘So what dark and dreadful memory stopped you from remembering that before? Why were you so frightened of remembering me?’
His intense gaze captured hers and held it. ‘It wasn’t because I was afraid of us.’ He ran his hand through his hair, tousling it, and she tried not to be diverted by the urge to lean forward and touch him.
‘I remember the crash, the tumbling, the stop, and then I saw you. I thought you’d died. I was conscious the whole time we rolled.’ He leaned forward and very gently touched the pink scar on her forehead, a pale reminder of a close call. ‘The blood,’ he said, shaking his head. ‘The position of the blow in the centre of your forehead. It was so similar to Roslyn. I thought you’d died too. Or worse. That you were comatose, like she was. My brain couldn’t bear it because it was my fault again.’
Okay. She could see it had a form of deja vu horror attached. But … ‘How was it your fault?’ That she didn’t get. She’d been the one driving. The campervan had instigated their involvement.
He threw his hands out, probably aware he had no explanation that would satisfy her. ‘You looked dead. I wasn’t thinking straight. I promised myself I would keep you safe. I failed.’
She shrugged. ‘It’s my job to keep myself safe.’
He squeezed his hair again, took a deep breath and settled. ‘It was my fault that you ended up like Roslyn and I blocked it out. Who knows? Maybe my subconscious decided that if I forgot you then you’d be safe. Safe from dying. Safe from me.’
She could even get that. A little.
‘I don’t care why.’ He cupped her cheek in his hand. ‘But now that I’ve remembered, I can’t do that. Please don’t be safe from me. I want to live my life with you.’
She narrowed her eyes at him, but inside her heart had begun to bounce around, chirping and singing like a desert cricket. ‘I love you, Zac. But I’ve got to be a bit cautious after everything.’
He stopped. Looked at her.
‘The fact that we come from different worlds has been a major factor. What’s the plan? Where will we live? Part-time together, part-time long distance? Do we both travel to work in places like Weipa and have adventures?’
‘I had that prepared in Uluru. We’ll have a long engagement and we’ll try it all. I know you belong here.’
She could see the truth in his words: he had thought about it. Maybe more than she had until this moment. Then it was true. They could and would do this and this would work, because he was her destiny. But he’d put her through hell and she couldn’t help giving a little back.
‘I’ll think about it.’
‘Good. Think about it.’ He raised his brows and pulled her closer until she leaned across the table towards him. ‘You have ten seconds.’ Then he swooped in and kissed her. He pulled back and touched her cheek with one gentle finger. ‘You have such strength and love and –’ he waggled his brows – ‘and humour, because that’s a joke, right?’ He didn’t look too worried.
She smiled at him and nodded.
‘Thank you.’ His smile back nearly blinded her. ‘You help me appreciate things I forgot to appreciate years ago. But most of all, I need you because I love you.’
Did she love him? This big, beautiful, high-maintenance man of hers? Hell yeah. But she was soaking in this outpouring of declarations. She had almost given up – she actually had given up yesterday – and she did need the reassurance.
The repetition.
The comfort.
‘Marry me,’ he said, and pulled his wallet from his pocket. ‘See what I found and didn’t know why I had it.’
Now we’re talking. ‘You almost asked me once before.’ She smiled and he reached over and took her hand, lifted it to his mouth and kissed her fingers. Then he slid the gorgeous pink diamond ring onto her finger.
‘I’m not waiting to do this. Be my wife.’
She stared with blurred eyes at the beautiful engagement ring. Then she leaned over and met him above the middle of the table and kissed his waiting mouth. ‘Yes.’
‘Let me show you how much I love you.’ He looked around at the other diners and smiled. ‘But not here.’
‘Yeah. Get a room,’ one of the older men said teasingly, and the people around them laughed. Some applauded.
Zac smiled and stood, then went around to pull out her chair. ‘Let’s start again.’
In a room, a different room, Ava wrapped her arms around the man she’d thought would never hold her like this again, and savoured the strength and vitality that she’d thought was out of her reach forever. She held him as if she would never, ever let him go.
She kissed him, putting into that kiss all the love she’d been holding back, all the fear, all the frustration she’d felt at his loss of memory, and to her absolute delight he returned it tenfold. Her hands slid up and over the taut muscles bunched beneath his shirt, and she curved her fingers into his shoulders and neck with a sigh of delicious deja vu as the kiss deepened. Tongues touched, tasted, entwined, and she jammed herself closer.
He slid his hands down her back and cupped her bottom so that he could lift her slightly towards him. He groaned, a deep, growling noise that made her mouth tilt under his. Oh yeah. Her big, strong man was the perfect size. Ava wasn’t sure if it was the loss of the ground beneath her feet or the sudden depth of his kiss that made her feel as though she were flying. Either way, she didn’t want Zac to stop.
She felt like she’d been starved of this. As though she’d waited a lifetime to be back in his arms.
‘You sure you remember? You’re not just tricking me into seduction?’
‘Absolutely.’ He leaned over her and brushed the hair away from her eyes, and the expression she saw on his face and in his eyes stopped the world and the laughter, and brought the sting of tears as well as a swell in her heart. Her hand lifted unconsciously to her chest and pressed. Speaking of hearts. What if the love of your life finally remembered who you were?
He took her face between his fingers and gazed into her eyes. ‘Ava, I’m serious. I want us to be like this always. Talking. Hugging. Loving. Forgiving. Me holding your hand. Wherever we are, till death do us part. I need to marry you. Forever. I can see us being one of those old couples walking along hand in hand. Into a desert sunset.’ He dipped his head and kissed her once more. ‘I promise I’ll renew the vow at Uluru soon. But for now, will this do? Please?’
There was no doubting the searing need and also the slight trepidation she could see in his eyes. Was he that blind not to see how deeply she cared for him? She blinked away the tears that threatened to make this magical moment too misty to see.
She drew a deep breath. ‘I love you, Zac. I loved you from the first morning after our unexpected night together.’
He stared at her, momentarily speechless, then shook his head. ‘You did not.’ He brushed his lips against hers with so much tenderness she shivered.
‘Okay. Maybe not the first day. But the next day when you asked me back for breakfast. Seriously. Breakfast. So many promises of food that I didn’t get.’ She lifted her face and kissed him again.
They didn’t speak for a while. They were too busy. Too enthralled.
Finally, he lifted his head. ‘I couldn’t take my eyes off you on the flight.’
‘I watched your hands.’ She reached down and pulled one up to kiss his fingers, then laughed. ‘I was berating myself for just following you when you waggled your fingers. I do love these fingers.’
‘And they love you.’ He undid the last button on her shirt and he pushed it aside. ‘My wife-to-be.’