Their First Family Christmas. Alison Roberts
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shake was slower this time and she must have felt the tickle of the errant curl because her hand went up to smooth it away from her face. ‘I’ve been hoping—every day—that this might be the day I’d hear something...’
Making Emma scared had made Jack feel like a bastard but this was worse. Much worse.
She’d been thinking of him every day? Hoping he would do the right thing and come back?
What had other people been saying? That he was gone for good and maybe that was for the best?
Maybe it would have been better if he hadn’t come back...
‘And today, of all days...’ Emma’s voice was little more than a whisper. ‘When the memories were ambushing me around every corner. You come back with no warning and...and you come back looking like you might be nearly dead?’
Her bottom lip wobbled and it was too much.
She cared about him, didn’t she?
Really cared...
Apart from the memory of his mother that had no more than a dreamlike quality now, there had only ever been one other person that had felt like that about him and, in a way, Ben’s death had given him freedom. There was nobody to worry about him. If he kept it that way, it would work both ways and he wouldn’t have to worry about anyone else. Or face the agony of having them torn from his life.
But, for some unfathomable reason, Emma cared...
And, like it or not, he cared about her, didn’t he? He wouldn’t be feeling this wretched if he didn’t.
Jack stretched out his hand but he couldn’t quite reach hers. He left it there, hanging, in midair. For a moment, he was aware of an increased urgency in the sounds coming from outside the door—from the resuscitation area right next door to this one—but then he shut it out again. This was more important.
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘I’m really sorry, Red.’
There was a long, long moment of utter stillness then. He knew Emma was looking at his hand—trying to decide whether she wanted to touch him in a capacity that had nothing to do with his medical care?
He wanted that touch. It might be the only thing that could give him any hope that he could put any of this right. He leaned into his arm, stretching it a little bit further, and he turned his hand over, to offer his palm.
‘Careful...you’ll pull out your IV line.’
But Emma had caught his hand and, after she’d stepped closer to take the tension off the narrow plastic tube, she didn’t let it go. Jack curled his fingers around hers, willing her to look up and meet his gaze.
When she did, he almost wished she hadn’t. He was enveloped in something that felt like anguish.
‘Why did you come back today, Jack?’
‘Because...because it’s Christmas,’ he said, his voice catching on the last word.
‘But you hate Christmas...we all knew how much you hate it... That was why Sarah and Ben were bringing Lily to Glasgow. They knew you’d never go to see them in London.’ Emma’s words were tumbling out. And her eyes were widening, as if she was realising something horrific for the first time.
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