‘And did it please him?’ she couldn’t help asking.
Ben pulled a face. ‘There was never any pleasing him. But I didn’t find that out until much later on, and by then I’d already chosen my path. So I made it work for me and decided to have nothing more to do with him.’
Thea stayed quiet. She missed her family. They weren’t around to talk to and she’d have given anything for one last conversation. It was unimaginable to her that Ben should be in a position where he could talk to his father, but that things were so bad he didn’t want to.
Her heart suddenly ached for him. His relationship with his father wasn’t something she’d ever thought about, but now she couldn’t stop wondering what kind of a father Ben would have made himself. Even given the circumstances, somehow she didn’t think he would have abandoned her—or his baby. Or put them through whatever he had been through.
The guilt pressed in on her with even more force.
‘Would you ever leave the Army and try?’ she asked, trying to jog the thought from her head.
‘What? Becoming a chef? No chance. Too old now!’ Ben laughed.
‘You love being a Major?’ She struggled to keep her tone light, to betray none of the sadness she felt for him. Or her self-reproach.
A shadow crossed his face. ‘Not any more. I’ve worked hard, I’ve done my duty, I’ve given my all. But now I don’t think I have any more to give.’
‘But you would never leave?’ She held her breath in shock.
‘I’d like to, but... I still feel tied in. I’m working on it.’
Thea knew she was staring. Hastily she averted her gaze, but her mind was swimming. She’d thought the Army was his life—she’d never thought he would consider leaving.
Ben moved his hand across the table to take hers, turning it over gently and rubbing his thumb on her palm.
‘I’m sorry.’ He looked her straight in the eyes. ‘About the other night.’
Was it only such a short while ago? It almost felt a lifetime earlier.
‘It should never have happened.’
She could only stare at him. It was happening again—another mistake. She was such an idiot.
But he was pressing on uncomfortably. ‘After that motorway call-out I finally admitted to myself I still had feelings for you—I was driven by some need for you. I should have controlled it—waited until I’d addressed the issues which had kept us apart in the first place. I hope I haven’t ruined it between us.’
‘So you still...want me?’ Her mind was reeling.
‘Yes. And I’m sorry for not trusting you, Thea, for not wanting you to see my scars. You’ve only ever been supportive and that was unfair of me and so very wrong.’
‘Why didn’t you trust me?’ Thea asked quietly, still trying absorb the fact that he wasn’t rejecting her. Again.
‘I don’t know. I know that you’ll be there for me, no matter what. You’ve already proved that. There’s no one single thing I can pinpoint. But I guess the day before had been a traumatic day for everyone, and I don’t find it easy to talk anyway. With memories of my own accident, it all came to a head. And maybe I felt as though you wer
e holding back a little.’
‘Do you really believe that?’ Thea’s heart lurched with guilt. ‘That I was holding back?’
‘I don’t know.’ Ben shook his head apologetically. ‘No. Probably not. I was trying to deflect. You were right. I wasn’t exactly thinking straight during that RTC. Anyway, I’m sorry.’
‘Don’t be.’ Thea swallowed. After seeing him save that baby her head had been all over the place—it was no wonder Ben had picked up on that.
‘No. I am sorry. I should have trusted you enough to tell you. I didn’t, and that wasn’t right. You deserve better than that from me.’
Thea felt her eyes prick—couldn’t look up from the remnants of her meal. He thought she deserved better but he was right—she had been holding back. She was still holding back. Ever since he’d walked towards her with that baby she’d been fighting to shut out the painful memories. And Ben was a part of them. With every new confession he made to her it only made her feel more conscience-stricken. It was time to tell him the truth. Because—really—didn’t he deserve better from her?
‘Thea? Are you all right?’
His evident concern only heightened her gnawing guilt. She pushed her chair back and rose to her feet. Words were lodged in her throat and she had to force them out.