‘Don’t have a baby. It’s too… It’s too…’ He reached for the bottle again. This time Melissa held out a second glass and joined him, coughing as she drank. Aidan had never seen her drink spirits before.

‘Aidan, tell me what’s wrong.’

‘Are you happy?’ Aidan asked.

Melissa swished the dregs of her whisky around her glass. ‘I don’t know. We used to be but trying to create a family, me trying to fall pregnant has put such a strain on us. Sometimes I wonder if we’re broken.’

‘Lucy falling pregnant has broken us.’ Aidan closed his eyes. ‘Connor’s okay but Catherine… Catherine didn’t make it.’

The sofa dipped as Melissa sat next to him and scooped him into her arms. He tried to push her away but she held him fast.

‘Shh.’ She soothed as he would eventually soothe his son. As he should have been able to soothe his daughter.

His muscles grew limp. His shoulders began to shake. Still he tried to keep his grief inside.

‘Shh.’ Her fingers stroked his hair. ‘Let it all out.’

The force of his sobs shook his bones as they hurtled from deep in the pit of his belly, travelling up his throat before he propelled them out of his mouth. A guttural sound, filling the quiet room. He couldn’t stop them. He needed them to stop. He needed to be strong but he felt weak. Melissa’s body trembled next to his. He raised his face. She was crying too. She cupped his cheeks with her hands.

‘I’m so sorry, Aidan. For you and Lucy. But you will get through this.’

‘How?’ His desperation spilled out in that one word.

She shook her head, unable to answer. Their eyes still locked. A torrent of tears built again and he just couldn’t bear it. He pressed his lips hard against hers. Immediately, she pushed him away, but his hand snaked around the back of her head. He drew her to him again. Kissed her firmly. His other hand creeping under her T-shirt. He grew hard. It wasn’t that he’d ever fancied Melissa. It wasn’t that he wanted her, but he wanted to feel something, anything, other than the crushing grief.

He wanted it to stop, if only for a few moments.

Melissa relaxed, her fingers tangled in his hair, raising her hips as he tugged at her pyjama bottoms. Her breath sour with whisky and sleep but he didn’t care. He didn’t care about anything except the here and now.

Chapter Eighty-Four

Lucy

It’s displayed on Aidan’s features, carved into the lines that now furrow his brow; his guilt. His entire face wracked with pain.

He has read my thoughts.

All of them.

Now he knows why I want it to be Ryan.

A complete circle. A repeat of the past.

A truth.