Chapters (81)
- Cover
- About the Author
- Dedication
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Five
- Six
- Seven
- Eight
- Nine
- Ten
- Eleven
- Twelve
- Thirteen
- Fourteen
- Fifteen
- Sixteen
- Seventeen
- Eighteen
- Nineteen
- Twenty
- Twenty-one
- Twenty-two
- Twenty-three
- Twenty-four
- Twenty-five
- Twenty-six
- Twenty-seven
- Twenty-eight
- Twenty-nine
- Thirty
- Thirty-one
- Thirty-two
- Thirty-three
- Thirty-four
- Thirty-five
- Thirty-six
- Thirty-seven
- Thirty-eight
- Thirty-nine
- Forty
- Forty-one
- Forty-two
- Forty-three
- Forty-four
- Forty-five
- Forty-six
- Forty-seven
- Forty-eight
- Forty-nine
- Fifty
- Fifty-one
- Fifty-two
- Fifty-three
- Fifty-four
- Fifty-five
- Fifty-six
- Fifty-seven
- Fifty-eight
- Fifty-nine
- Sixty
- Sixty-one
- Sixty-two
- Sixty-three
- Sixty-four
- Sixty-five
- Sixty-six
- Sixty-seven
- Epilogue
- Acknowledgments
- Read More
- Prologue
- One
- Two
- Three
- Four
- Follow Merilyn online
- Dedication
He is asleep. I listen to the sound of his breathing and feel the slow rise and fall of his chest. Then, when I’m sure, I get up and leave.
I walk to the kitchen, pull open the fridge and pour more wine, then sit at the table and drink.
‘Hey there, still on the wine?’
‘Don’t be mean, Aoife.’ I’m not in the mood for her teasing.
‘Oh, dumbo, I’m just kidding.’
‘Our baby is back.’
Aoife is silent.
‘And I don’t know what to do. Tell me what to do, Aoife.’
‘Is she pretty?’
I want to tell her she is beautiful like her mother, with hair the colour of sunset and eyes as big as the moon, but instead I say, ‘She wants to meet us.’
‘I see.’
‘Do you want to?’
‘I’m not sure. Let me think.’
While she does, I drink more. I finish the bottle and open another. As I pour, Aoife replies.
‘I don’t think it’s a good idea.’
I feel relief. ‘No, I don’t think so either.’
‘I don’t see where it would get us really. I mean, it’s done now, isn’t it? We can’t be her mum like we planned, so what’s the point?’
‘I agree.’
‘Did she say why she came to find us?’
‘Just to thank us, I think, for saving her.’
‘Hmmm. Is that the real reason, though?’
‘That’s what I said.’
‘To your husband?’
‘Yes.’
‘Well it doesn’t surprise me he’s taking the easy option. Weak, that man. I’ve told you before.’
‘He’s not.’ But I don’t say it emphatically. It will only wind her up, and then she’ll go on for hours.
‘All men are the same. They say they love women, but they’re scared of us. They know that if they let us out of our boxes for long enough, we’ll find out how crap they really are. We’re their mirrors – they project the image they want to see onto us, but they know it’s only a matter of time until the mirror breaks and they see themselves for what they really are.’
I’ve heard this so many times it almost lulls me to sleep.
‘I’m sorry, am I keeping you up?’ she snaps.
‘No. It’s late, I should go to bed.’
‘Not until we’ve decided what to do about the baby.’
I suddenly have a thought. ‘Do you miss her, Aoife? I do. Well, the thought of what she could have been, at least.’
‘No, I don’t. How can I miss something I never had?’
I want to remind her she had her for eight months, hidden in her stomach, but I know Aoife well enough to realise when she’s put the wall up it’s far too high for anyone to climb over.