Marooned with the Millionaire

‘Take care, both of you.’

‘We will. Thank you again.’

April felt a ridiculous pang as she walked towards the car; in all probability she would never see Louise and Bill again. For an insane moment, as the car glided through the midnight-blue darkness, an absurd fantasy filled her mind and she drifted between waking and sleep. Her and Marcus...a couple...herself with a baby in her arms... Louise and Bill looking on... In-laws who liked her...believed in her... Marcus with his arm around her as he gazed down at the tiny precious bundle in her arms.

And then the image faded and changed, and instead she saw herself with Edward as he took his first tottering step...fast-forwarded to weeks later and the police on the doorstep, telling her that Edward was dead...gone...at rest for ever.

April sat bolt-upright with a small cry and instantly Marcus scooted across the seat, his warm bulk next to hers.

‘April?’

She blinked. ‘I’m fine.’

Oddly enough, she was—after all, those half-dreams had shown her that her decision was right. Tragedy had touched her life irrevocably and she would be tainted for ever. Another baby was an impossible mirage.

‘I liked your parents.’

His face was slightly averted, and for a moment he said nothing. Then, ‘I’m glad. They are good people.’

‘They are clearly very proud of you.’

More silence, though she would swear he had puffed out the smallest ‘pah’.

‘Why do I get the impression you don’t believe that?’

‘I don’t know.’

Relief vibrated from him as the car pulled to a stop outside his apartment, but her eyes narrowed in determination—he was not going to escape that easily. Louise and Bill were proud of him.

Once inside the lounge, she resumed. ‘You do know they are proud of you, right?’

Discomfort etched his features as he thrust his hands into his pockets. ‘April, drop this, OK? I know Louise and Bill are pleased I’ve done well in life.’

‘But that’s different from knowing they’re proud of you—not because you’ve made lots of money but because you’re the person you are.’

‘And I owe them a huge debt. One I will do my best to pay back.’

‘How? With money?’

‘How else? They paid for my education, fed me, clothed me, gave me the means to make my wealth.’

‘They are your parents—they love you; they don’t want your money.’ She put her hands on her hips. ‘Is this the type of parent you plan to be? Will you be keeping track of every penny you spend and expecting it to be paid back with interest?’

‘No! Of course not. That’s different.’

‘How?’

‘I was twelve when Elvira and I were adopted. Elvira was only four. Louise and Bill had never planned to adopt an older child—they wanted a little one. They fell for Elvira and decided out of the goodness of their hearts to take me as well. For Elvira’s sake. The social workers couldn’t believe it—and neither could I. As I told you, they’re good people. So, yes, I do owe them a debt.’

For a moment April wondered how it must have felt to that twelve-year-old boy—to have been taken in out of charity rather than love. And then she remembered Louise’s expression when she’d described the bond between Marcus and his sister.

‘Perhaps they didn’t intend to adopt an older child, but that doesn’t mean they took you just for Elvira’s sake. Maybe they took you for both your sakes. Whatever their motivation, they grew to love you.’

‘You don’t have to try to make me feel good about this, April. Love doesn’t come into it—their charitable action allowed me to be part of Elvira’s life. I didn’t expect anything more from them.’

‘Didn’t expect or couldn’t accept?’ The question fell from her lips without permission from her brain, and his brows pulled together in a glower.

‘Meaning...?’