Jack's Baby

His eyes scanned hers, searing them with his doubts as to her underlying wishes and feelings. “It doesn’t add up, Nina,” he said softly. “You say you love me. You say you’re giving me a chance. Yet you turned to Sally, not to me. It was Sally who called me to the rescue. You shut me out. Again.”

It was not a bitter accusation, more a restrained statement of fact, all the more powerful in tearing at the reservations she had held about him.

He took a deep breath, and there was a flicker of compassion in his eyes as he went on. “I appreciate where you’re coming from, Nina, but I have scars, too. We all carry baggage of one description or another. In many ways my parents shut me out of their lives. I wasn’t abused. I was simply and effectively sidelined. Ignored for the most part.”

His tone was matter-of-fact, not begging pity or even sympathy, but the loneliness of a long-distance runner was behind the words.

“I understand why you shut me out of your pregnancy, though your decision took no account of my love for you,” he went on. “It painted me as not worth consideration. Like today. How do you think it makes me feel, Nina, to know you chose not to call on me? To keep it all to yourself?”

She hadn’t seen it that way. She hadn’t wanted to bother him…a different form of consideration. “You were very much on my mind, Jack,” she pleaded.

He shook his head. “Negatively, not positively. I want to be involved, not set aside. And for you to risk this kind of suffering rather than open your door to me, it makes me wonder if I’m doing wrong in thrusting myself into your life again.”

“No. I do want you, Jack,” she cried. “I want you so much, I’m frightened of anything that might drive you away.”

“Only you can drive me away.” His voice throbbed with raw intensity. “I keep knocking on your door. You open it. You shut it. Putting me outside doesn’t make me feel wanted, Nina. I don’t even do that to my dog.”

She cringed at the blunt indictment of the way she had treated him. She had no excuse. She had seen everything from her own prejudicial point of view. Tunnel vision. With growing horror she realised she had done to Jack what her parents had done to her—rejected him, lowered his sense of self-worth, focused on her own feelings without considering the effect on him. Just because he was a man didn’t mean he was immune to the same hurts she had known.

He grimaced. “I probably shouldn’t have brought this up when you’re so ill. Not the time nor the place.”

“Yes, it is, Jack,” she whispered, squeezing his hand. “You needed to say it, and I needed to hear it.”

He gave her a crooked half-smile. “As long as you’re reassured that Charlotte is safe with me.”

“I am. Thank you. For many things.”

It wasn’t enough, not the touch or the words. She sensed his inner tension, the restraint he was constructing, sealing off the wounds of mistrust and moving silently but resolutely to that place of self-sufficiency he had learned to exist in long before they had ever met. No doubt he had returned there during the estranged months of her pregnancy. It was Jack’s survival ground, come what may.

“I brought in your toiletries and a set of fresh clothes for when you leave,” he said flatly.

Easier to deal with the superficial mechanics of life than the hidden areas, Nina thought. Jack withdrew his hand and bent to unpack an overnight bag. The physical separation made her even more tensely aware of the effect her reluctance to involve him was having, the loss of true intimacy, the protective shield she had raised, driving Jack to start raising his own.

Having stowed her belongings in the drawers of the bedside cabinet, he resumed his seat, facing her with a bleak and determined expression. It alarmed Nina. He had come here caring about her, and she had blamed him for her own failure. The cost of that mistake was building up.

“Sally told me you’ll be raw and sore for a week or so. I’ve planned for both you and Charlotte to stay with me. If it’s not what you want, Nina…If you’d rather return to your flat and arrange other help—”

“No.” She had to stop his retreat from her. “If it’s not too much trouble for you…” That sounded weak and uncertain. “I mean—”

“Don’t feel obliged to come to me just because I took responsibility for Charlotte while you’re in here,” he added before she could find a more positive reply. “If I’ve assumed too much, bulldozing you into a situation that’s distressing you, it’s better we settle it now. It was never my intention to hurt you. Say the word and I’ll take everything back to your flat.”

“No. I want to come to you,” she said with as much strength as she could muster.

His direct gaze left no room for prevarication. “As a halfway house or a serious commitment, Nina? Please be honest with me.”

Her heart started galloping. How could she promise the level of absolute trust he wanted when she couldn’t trust herself to deliver on it? If it were possible to throw a switch that would

alter or adjust all the negative circuits in her brain, she would. It wasn’t her intention to hurt, either.

“Will you give me another chance, Jack?” she pleaded. “I’ll do my best to sort myself out.”

“It doesn’t have to be done by yourself, Nina. My door is open to you, and I’m always ready to listen.” Frustration threaded his voice. “If you’ll only be honest with me.”

“Yes. I realise that now,” she said earnestly.

His face slowly relaxed into a half-smile of wry appeal. “Charlotte is not just yours, Nina. She’s part of both of us. It’s not two against one. It’s the three of us.”

“Yes,” she agreed, seizing the concept with desperate energy. “Do you love her, Jack?”