While I lathered my hair, I thought again of Ross. Would it be fair to him, knowing the way he felt about me, to turn to him? Would it be fair on Adam to accept help from a man I had kissed?

In my mind I turned over possibilities until the water ran cold. I stepped out of the shower into a fluffy white towel.

Perching on the edge of the bed, I picked up the phone once more and made a call.

As soon as it connected, I garbled, ‘It’s me. I need you.’

Chapter Thirty

Anna

After making the phone call, I had rushed back to the hospital with renewed energy. I wasn’t alone. Help was coming. I had read to Adam from Of Mice and Men, which I was currently teaching to my class, skipping the sad bit with the dog. Adam would hate that. Now, it was late. Outside in the corridor the lights had dimmed. Eventually I dozed.

The sand was warm beneath my feet.

Adam shielded his eyes as he stared up at the sky; I followed his finger to see what he was pointing at. A parrot flapping his red and green wings soared beneath the sun. ‘If you love someone, set them free,’ Adam said.

I woke up drenched in sweat and tried to force the whispers of the dream from my mind.

I won’t give up on you, Adam, I won’t.

But would he give up on me when he came round? How would he feel when he learned I had lost our baby? His baby. Would he blame me the way I was blaming myself? Would he, after his near-death experience, realize life is too short to spend another five years trying? Leave me for somebody who could effortlessly conceive? I had thought we were going from a two to a three. The thought I might remain forever a one was heartbreaking. I placed my palms gently over my middle. I never got to meet the life that had been growing inside of me but it didn’t stop me missing them. My stomach rose and fell with every breath and I imagined it was my baby moving under my hands.

Eventually, I must have drifted back into sleep because the next thing I was aware of was a clearing of the throat. ‘Dr Acevedo. Is everything—’

‘It’s okay.’ He picked up on the fear in my voice. ‘Have you been here all night? You should go home. Get some rest.’

But home was nearly three thousand miles away and rest was the last thing I felt like. I rubbed the back of my neck, digging my fingertips hard into knotted muscle. The doctor made his checks and told me nothing had changed. I could tell by his tone he thought this was bad but I was grateful things weren’t worse.

Minutes after he had left the room, the door swung open again.