Fairytale With The Single Dad. Alison Roberts

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Fairytale With The Single Dad - Alison Roberts


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I wasn’t paying attention.’ He sounded guilty. ‘And now, because I didn’t notice the deer running in front of us, and because I didn’t notice my wife was pregnant, I’m the bad guy who nearly got us all killed.’

      How awful for them! To lose a baby like that and then to have a serious accident on top of it. They were both very lucky to have got out alive. Brandon, too. It could all have gone so terribly wrong.

      ‘Well, I can sort your stitches for you. And I’m not so sure I would want to stop Helen being mad. She’s had a terrible loss, Paul. You both have. And she needs to work through it.’

      ‘I know, but…’

      ‘There are support groups. Ones specifically for women who have suffered miscarriage. I can give you some information if you drop by the surgery. Or maybe I could ask Helen if she wants to come in and have a chat with me? You may not have known about the pregnancy, but she still lost a baby. A D&C can be a traumatic event in itself, when you think about what it is, and it can help some women to talk about things. She’s had a loss and she needs to work her way through it. And I’m sure, in time, so will you.’

      Paul rubbed at his bristly jaw. ‘But even she didn’t know.’

      ‘It doesn’t matter. It was still a baby, Paul. Still a loss. A terrible one. And she knows now. She probably feels a lot of guilt, and the easiest person to take that out on is you.’

      ‘Does she think I’ve not been hurt too? To not even know she was pregnant and then to see her so scared when she wouldn’t stop bleeding? And then to learn the reason why?’ He shook his head, tears welling in his eyes. ‘Why didn’t I know?’

      ‘You’re not to blame. It’s difficult in those early weeks.’

      ‘I keep thinking there must have something else I could have done for her. Something I could have said. To see that pain in her eyes… It broke my heart.’

      Nathan laid a hand on Paul’s shoulder.

      ‘It has hurt me. I am upset. And I feel guilty at trying to make her get over something when she’s just not ready to. Guilty that I won’t get to hold that baby in my arms…’

      ‘Grief takes time to heal. For both of you.’

      Paul glanced at his hands. ‘But she won’t talk to me. She doesn’t talk to me about any of the deep stuff because she thinks I don’t care. She never shares what she’s feeling. How are you supposed to be in a relationship with someone who won’t tell you what’s really going on?’

      With great difficulty.

      He looked at Paul. ‘You wait. Until she’s ready. And when she is…you listen.’

      Nathan was so glad he’d never had to go through something like this with Gwyneth. They’d come close, when she’d thought there might still be time for an abortion, but the thought of losing his child…? It was too terrible even to think about.

      Sydney would understand.

      Just thinking about her now made him realise just how strong she was to have got through her daughter’s death. And on her own, too.

      ‘So I’ve just got to take her anger, then?’

      ‘Be there for her. Be ready to talk when she is. She’s grieving.’

      Was Sydney still grieving? Was that why she wasn’t able to talk to him about what had happened? Should he even expect her to open up to him?

      He opened his doctor’s bag and pulled out a small kit to remove Paul’s stitches. There were ten of them, and he used a stitch-cutter and tweezers to hold the knots each time he removed them. The wound had healed well, but Paul would be left with a significant scar for a while.

      ‘That’s you done.’

      ‘Thanks. So I’ve just got to wait it out, then?’

      ‘Or you could raise the subject if you feel the need. I can see that you’re upset at the loss, too. Let her know she can talk to you. That you’re ready to talk whenever she is.’

      Paul nodded and touched the spot where his stitches had been. ‘Maybe I will. I know I’ve lost a baby, but I’m even more scared of losing my wife.’

      Nathan just stared back at him.

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      Sydney felt odd. She had to call round to Nathan’s house in a minute, so she could take them to Wicklegate Farm and teach Anna how to ride the donkey. But for some reason she was standing in front of her wardrobe, wondering what to wear?

      It shouldn’t matter!

      Deliberately she grabbed at a pair of old jeans, an old rugby shirt that was slightly too big for her and thick woolly socks to wear inside her boots.

      I have no reason to dress up for Dr Jones.

      However, once dressed, she found herself staring at her reflection in the mirror, messing with her hair. Up? Down?

      She decided to leave her hair down and then added a touch of make-up. A bit of blush. Some mascara.

      Her reflection stared back at her in question.

      What are you doing?

      Her mirror image gave no response. Obviously. But that still didn’t stop her waiting for one, hoping she would see something in the mirror that would tell her the right thing to do.

      She even looked at Magic. ‘Am I being stupid about this?’

      Magic blinked slowly at her.

      She liked Nathan, and that was the problem. She liked it that he was comfortable to be with. She liked it that he was great to talk to. That he was very easy on the eye.

      There was some small security in the fact that his little girl would be there, so it was hardly going to be a seduction, but… But a part of her—a small part, admittedly—wondered what it would be like if something were to happen with them spending time together. What, though? A kiss? On the cheek? The lips? That small part of her wanted to know what it would feel like to close her eyes and feel his lips press against hers. To inhale his scent, to feel his hands upon her. To sink into his strong caress.

      Alastair, in those last few months, made me feel like I had the plague. That I was disgusting to him. It would be nice to know that a man could still find me desirable.

      She missed that physical connection with someone. She missed having someone in her bed in the morning. Someone to read the papers with. To talk to over a meal. She missed the comfort of sitting in the same room as another person and not even having to talk. Of sharing a good book recommendation, of watching a movie together snuggled under an old quilt and feeding each other popcorn. Coming home and not finding the house empty.

      But so what? Just because she missed it, it didn’t mean she had to make it happen. No matter how much she fantasised about it. Nathan was a man. And in her experience men let you down. Especially when you needed them the most. She’d already been rejected once, when she was at her lowest, and she didn’t want to go through that again.

      It was too hard.

      So no matter how nice Nathan was—no matter how attractive, no matter how much she missed being held—nothing was going to happen. Today was about Anna. About donkeys and learning how to ride.

      She remembered teaching Olivia. It had taken her ages to get her balance, and she’d needed a few goes at it before she’d felt confident. She hadn’t liked pulling at the reins, had been worried in case it hurt the donkey.

      Thinking about the past made her think of the present. Her ex-husband, Alastair, had moved on. He’d found someone new. Was making a new family. How had he moved on so quickly? It was almost insulting. Had she meant nothing to him? Had the family they’d had meant less to him than she’d realised? Perhaps that was why he’d walked away


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