‘I wanted to.’
‘Your phone wasn’t working?’
She flinched. ‘I deserve that.’
He’d spent years regretting the fact he hadn’t told her exactly what had happened that day in Theatre, had felt guilty for keeping his shame under wraps. And all along Tori had been keeping quiet about something equally important. ‘If you hadn’t miscarried, would you have told me you were pregnant?’
‘Of course.’ She looked aghast.
‘There’s no “of course” about it. You didn’t tell me about the miscarriage or that you were pregnant.’
‘I didn’t know until I started bleeding and had stomach cramps the likes of which I’d never had before.’ The guilt in her eyes had been replaced with sorrow.
He had to steel his heart against reaching for her and soothing away her sadness. Despite the anger boiling in his gut, despite the sense of having been let down big time, he wanted to soothe her? Hell, man, what was his problem?
Their coffees arrived. Neither of them touched the steaming mugs.
Tori continued in that muted tone he hated. ‘My periods were always erratic, and at the time, with so much going on, I hadn’t noticed I hadn’t had one for months.’
‘Just how far along were you when you miscarried?’
‘About nine weeks, or so the doctors said.’
‘Were we having a boy or a girl?’ Why ask? It didn’t change a thing, only added to the hurt by making it more real.
‘Too soon to tell.’ Again her teeth bit down hard on her lip. It must’ve been hurting but she didn’t stop. Her eyelids were opening and shutting rapidly. Fighting tears? Fair enough. Tori would still grieve for her baby. She hadn’t changed that much.
Ben fought the urge to get up and run. Run hard and fast to pound away this feeling of hanging over a canyon. That Tori had been hiding something so important from him was unfathomable. His gut clenched tighter, sweat ran down his back. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’
‘You’d left me and I was reeling with the shock... No. Sorry. That’s an excuse. I didn’t want you coming back just because you felt like you had to help me through the aftermath of the miscarriage.’
She had a point. He would’ve insisted on staying with her until she was back on her feet. But, ‘I was entitled to be there for you. That was our baby, not just yours.’
The face she turned to him was grief-stricken. ‘You think I don’t realise that? That I don’t feel guilty about losing our baby? I was so ashamed I couldn’t bring myself to tell you.’
She held out her wrist, showing him the gold bracelet that she never took off. Her voice shook as she choked out, ‘I had this bracelet made in memory of our baby. Don’t think for a second that I haven’t thought about our baby every single day since it happened.’
‘I don’t know what to think any more. I’m still getting to grips with the fact you kept this secret in the first place.’ He had to get away, couldn’t sit here like a civilised man, trying to absorb what had gone down. His chair crashed over as he leapt to his feet. ‘Did I ever really know you, Tori?’
She gasped. Then reached for her coffee, slopped it everywhere before banging the cup back down. ‘I am so sorry, Ben. More than you can ever know.’
He was gone. Charging down the pavement heading for who knew where. Anywhere as long as it was away from Tori. He couldn’t bear to face her, to see her guilt and apology in those eyes that had always sucked him in. Because he did know about being sorry. Did know about not talking about the important things between them. He’d been carrying the same guilt for just as long.
To think he’d wanted to try again with her. Like that was going to happen now when neither of them could trust the other to be completely honest.
Toot, toot. Screech.
Hell. He’d stepped off the footpath onto the road, directly in front of a car. ‘Sorry, mate,’ he called at the cursing driver. ‘My fault entirely.’ Like the guy could understand him.
On the opposite side of the road was a bar. Ben changed direction slightly, aiming for the door and his first French hangover.
CHAPTER EIGHT
BEN’S HAND WAS on Tori’s elbow as he led the way through the jostling crowd and out of the Paris railway station to the taxi rank. She knew he’d feel her trembling. As long as he recognised that as excitement over being in this amazing city and not the desperation and guilt she hadn’t been able to overcome since her big revelation to him yesterday.
He’d surprised her by touching her. He hadn’t spoken more than was absolutely necessary on the long trip up from Nice, and had spent most of the day staring out the window or reading something on his tablet. It had been as though she’d been like all the other passengers—a stranger he’d had no interest in whatsoever.
Fair enough. She’d had it coming. But why Ben had insisted on joining her on the train and not flying to Paris, as he’d originally planned, was beyond her. Did it mean he might be thawing towards her? Or was she overreacting because the excitement of being in Paris was getting to her?
‘Paris.’ Tori breathed deep. Parisian air. She would not be daunted by Ben’s attitude, either way. ‘I want to squeal and dance up and down on the spot.’
He shook his head at her. ‘I bet you do.’
You’re a grown-up and grown-ups don’t do that.
Tori jumped up and down on the spot, squealing loudly, ‘I’m in Paris. Whoopee.’ Around her some people laughed and cheered, others pretended there wasn’t a mad woman let loose at Gare du Nord.
Ben watched her, his eyes hooded, his mouth flat.
She poked him. ‘No matter what I’ve done in the past I am not going to spend my time in Paris scowling.’ Like you.
His mouth twitched.
‘Go on. You can do it, and it won’t hurt, promise,’ she teased.
A smile slowly spread over his face, lifting his lips, lightening those eyes that had been dark and distressed all day. He shook his head at her. ‘This is only the railway station, one of many railway stations.’
‘It’s a Paris railway station. We don’t have those at home.’
His eyebrows rose as he nodded briefly. ‘I
can’t argue with your logic.’
‘I’ve dreamed of coming here since I was knee-high to a grasshopper. Nothing can dampen the most amazing moment of my life.’ His smile slipped and she hastened to add, ‘Make that one of the most amazing moments.’ Even now, despite everything, her wedding day took the top award for that.
‘Let’s go and get checked in at the hotel so we can see more of your dream city.’ His fingers were back on her elbow as he turned her in the direction of an available taxi.
‘Bring it on.’ I’m in Paris with Ben. Definitely Ben today, not Benji. But she could pretend he was Benji and that they were a couple. Setting herself up for a fall?
The hotel had been arranged for them by Luc. One of the best, they’d been assured. Not that she usually went for top-notch hotels but, hey, this was Paris, and she was with Ben. Hopefully they’d get past their difficulties enough to enjoy the time they spent here together.
Sitting in the taxi, her head turned left, right, then to the front. She was afraid she’d miss something. ‘There’s so much to take in. Oh, my gosh, there’s the top of the Eiffel Tower.’ She could barely see it above a line of trees. Pinching herself, she gaped at the sight until it disappeared behind the beautiful old buildings lining the street they’d turned into.
Ben’s smile had disappeared but he did seem more relaxed than he had been. ‘You sure five days are going to be enough to see everything you want?’
‘Five weeks wouldn’t be enough. Look at you. You’re supposed to checking out the passing sights, not staring at me.’ It was as though he got more fun out of her reactions to the city than to the city itself. But, then, he’d been here before.
Pulling up outside the grandest hotel she’d been to, her sense of excitement only increased. The hotel was very close to the Seine and many of the attractions she planned on visiting. Strolling inside with Ben, Tori realised she hadn’t felt this happy for a long time, and knew it wasn’t all to do with being in this city.
At the reception desk her happiness evaporated instantly. ‘But there’s been some mistake,’ she gulped, staring at the swipe key for the same suite as Ben was using. She would not share with him. She might’ve agreed to spend time with him but she wasn’t ready to be twenty-four seven in his company. Though a part of her wanted to. To test the waters, so to speak.