Kitabı oku: «The Love Solution», sayfa 5

CHAPTER EIGHT

A couple of days later, Sarah sat nervously opposite the GP in her surgery. The doctor was new and probably even younger than Sarah. She beamed in delight. ‘So, Mrs Havers, you’re almost eight weeks pregnant. Congratulations.’

Sarah didn’t know what to say. Of course, she already knew she was pregnant, but hearing it confirmed officially was surreal.

The GP smiled encouragingly. ‘Pregnancy and motherhood is a huge change for any woman and it can come as a bit of a shock. Are you OK?’

‘Yes … yes, like you say, it’s a bit of a shock.’

‘Does your partner know?’

‘Not yet.’ Sarah thought of the six missed calls on her phone. Niall had been trying to reach her over the past few days but she hadn’t trusted herself to answer him. Her focus had been on the baby and today’s doctor’s appointment. ‘It’s Ms Havers by the way.’

Sarah didn’t think the GP had heard her reply because she just carried on. ‘Going by the date of your LMP, your due date should be the thirtieth of August. I’ll send you for a scan as soon as possible and the midwifery team will take over from there. You’ll also need …’ The GP went on, listing all the places Sarah needed to be and people she had to see and things she couldn’t eat, drink or touch. That was one thing then: she now had a great excuse for never going near goat’s cheese.

‘Now, I need to ask a few questions about your family health history. Is there any history of …?’ The GP reeled off a list of diseases and genetic conditions.

Sarah knew the answer to a few of the questions but most were answered with: ‘I’m not sure.’

‘I’m sorry to be so vague but my parents died when I was a teenager so I can’t ask them. I’ll have to phone my auntie and uncle and see if they know.’

‘And I’m sorry to hear about your parents,’ said the GP, looking genuinely sympathetic. ‘And all these questions and information must seem like an awful lot to take in when you’re still coming to terms with being pregnant. Maybe you can ask your partner about his own family history when you give him the news?’

Oh hell, she had to tell Niall at some point, if only in case there was some terrible genetic problem in his family that she didn’t know about. It wasn’t likely as he’d never mentioned any problems but then, they’d never discussed having children. She felt rather than heard the buzzing of her phone in her bag at her feet.

‘Yes. Yes, I will,’ she said and hurried out of the surgery.

There were two more calls from Niall. Knowing she couldn’t ignore him forever, Sarah found a parking space on a side street near one of the university departments and walked through the Backs into the centre of the city where she was due to meet Molly. She listened to one of Niall’s messages.

‘Sarah. Where the hell are you? I’ve been trying to call you. You must let me explain about the other night … me and Ness. It’s not what you think. It was … a huge mistake.’

‘Gah!’

Sarah’s snort of disgust sent a flock of ducks scattering onto the river, quacking loudly. Even though it was winter, there were still plenty of tourists taking selfies, loitering in the middle of the road and almost getting run over by bikes. Students whizzed around the narrow streets by the market square, ringing their bells when a hapless pedestrian dared to cross. Sarah wandered in and out of JoJo Maman Bébé and John Lewis, looking at the cribs and baby baths, the tiny pairs of jeans and miniature Ugg boots.

Her eyes watered at the price tags but her baby would need all of these things from somewhere. She definitely wanted it to have them, except it would be summer when she or he made an appearance and she – or he – would need pretty dresses or cute shorts and mini jelly sandals. She would have to provide it all, with Niall’s help, of course. The responsibility was overwhelming … and apart from Molly, there was no family to share the news with, no mum or dad … Her parents would have loved a grandchild, if they’d been here. God, she’d give anything to share her news with them, even if she and Ni had split up.

She’d give anything to turn back the clock. She stopped on the edge of the pavement, her legs suddenly weak and her head light. It was only the shock of the past few weeks and the baby making her feel faint. It was understandable, normal … Her legs almost gave way and she stumbled into the road.

‘Whoa!’

She stepped back onto the pavement just as a cyclist whizzed by, so close she felt the rush of air against her face. Sarah hadn’t even noticed him approach. Had she got baby brain already? She glanced around, expecting people to stare or roll their eyes at her doziness but everyone hurried past, oblivious to her presence. That’s what it would be like from now on, she thought. She was on her own.

Feeling hot despite the bitter air, she hurried along the narrow lane that snaked between the market and the street where the café was situated. A cool drink and a sit-down would help but the stone walls of the colleges seemed to press in on her and she had to dodge round tourists taking photos outside porters’ lodges.

Although it had started to sleet, she pulled her scarf out of her coat to let the sharp air cool her chest, but she still felt hot and light-headed. If she could make the café and sit down, gulp down a glass of iced water, she’d be OK … She spotted the railings outside the café, with student notices and playbills fluttering in the wind, and put her hand over her mouth.

Oh no, she was going to be sick! But far better to throw up in the café toilets than vom over a tourist.

She hurried down the pavement and stepped onto the wet cobbles.

‘Look out!’

A bell jangled loudly and she felt a sharp tug on the back of her coat.

‘Hey!’ The curse from the cyclist was already just a streak of noise.

‘Are you OK?’ A tall man in a black padded jacket held her by the elbow.

Sarah caught her breath ‘Yes. I … yes, of course.’

‘You do know you almost stepped right in front of that idiot?’

‘I know. I wasn’t looking where I was going. I think I might be the idiot.’

‘He was on his mobile, the twat, but you did seem to be in a world of your own.’

If Sarah hadn’t felt so crap, she might have been offended but she didn’t have the energy. ‘I’m not feeling that great, but thanks.’

‘No problem.’

‘You can let go of my elbow now,’ she said. ‘You’re Ewan, aren’t you?’

Ewan’s bushy eyebrows met in a frown that weirdly did nothing to spoil his ruggedly handsome looks. ‘Do I know you?’

‘I’m Moll’s sister.’ Sarah hoped she wouldn’t throw up on his Timberland boots.

‘Mol?’

‘Dr Molly Havers. Your colleague from the lab? I was at the – um … New Year party with her.’ Sarah could have kicked herself for mentioning the scene of Molly’s humiliation but it was too late now.

‘Oh yes. That Molly, of course. Sorry.’ He glanced down at Sarah. ‘You do look pale. Are you ill?’

Wow, he is blunt, thought Sarah. No wonder Molly’s having a hard time with him and judging by the way he hadn’t instantly recognised her sister’s name, it didn’t bode well.

‘I just felt a bit light-headed and nauseated for a second.’

‘Do you want to sit down? I can get you a glass of water from the café?’ His dark brown eyes held genuine concern and boy, was he gorgeous. Poor Molly, thought Sarah, he might be a bit of a prat but close up he was a real heartbreaker.

‘I think I was just too hot but I’m feeling a bit better now and I don’t want to put you to any trouble. You must be busy. In the lab …’ she added, remembering Molly’s comments about her boss being a workaholic.

‘It’s no trouble. I came out for some fresh air, and to be honest I could do with a break. I’ve been in the lab since four o’clock this morning.’

Ewan smiled, the way Sarah had seen him smile when he’d asked Molly to dance, only this time he was sober, she was sure, unless he had a secret daytime drinking habit. Sarah hesitated a moment longer then decided. Surely this was the perfect opportunity to bring Molly and Ewan together on neutral territory?

She threw him a smile. ‘Then for your sake, I’ll say yes. Thanks.’

‘Good. Is the Old Church Café OK? It’s right opposite.’

‘Perfect.’

By the time they’d found a table in the café, Sarah’s sickness had subsided although she still felt what her and Molly’s mum had liked to call “peculiar”. However, seated in a cool corner of the café next to a window that Ewan had insisted on opening, she was beginning to feel more normal. While Ewan queued at the counter, she glanced at the text she’d just had from Molly and felt slightly guilty.

Running 10 min late. Just setting off from lab. See you asap. x

Would Molly thank her or be furious? Would Ewan be embarrassed? Sarah didn’t think so; he seemed quite kind and considerate under the blunt exterior and he must fancy Molly or he wouldn’t have come onto her at the party, even if he was pissed. Perhaps he was being kind to Sarah specifically because she was Molly’s sister: maybe he wanted to show Molly he did have a softer side. Then again, Sarah thought, she might be making the situation far worse than it already was, but it was too late now.

Carrying a tray, Ewan weaved his way between the tables, drawing admiring glances from several of the other customers. When Molly arrived, how would Sarah explain that she’d arranged to meet her and hadn’t mentioned the fact to Ewan? Oh shh … sugar.

With a smile, he put the tray in front of her. ‘OK. I got a glass of iced tap water and a ginger tea and some ginger biscuits. It’s meant to be good for nausea although of course it’s purely the hydration and rise in blood sugar that helps.’

‘Um. Thank you,’ said Sarah, wondering if this could really be the cold and mercurial man who’d dumped Molly at the party. ‘How much do I owe you?’ she asked.

‘Nothing.’

‘Oh, I can’t let you pay.’

Ewan looked at her sternly but not unkindly. ‘Shut up and drink your tea.’

Right, thought Sarah, I will do. Bloody hell, Molly had definitely bitten off more than she could chew with this one. She was mightily glad he wasn’t her boss and that she didn’t have a boss at all because if she was going to feel sick, faint and burst into tears at random moments, she didn’t know how she would have held down a conventional job as she once did. But then again, a job would have come with its salary and rights and maternity leave …

‘Better?’ Ewan cut into her thoughts.

‘Yes, thanks.’

Sarah sipped the water and tried the ginger tea while Ewan tackled a large cappuccino. Molly had told her he was an Iberian Celt. Sarah wasn’t entirely sure what that meant genetically but it had produced a very alpha human being and Sarah could understand exactly why Molly had fallen for him. It must be excruciating to work together on a project like the Love Bug …

‘Are you very busy at work? Molly says so,’ she said, hoping Molly would put in an appearance soon.

‘Does she?’ said Ewan, his interest piqued. Sarah wondered if she’d said the right thing.

‘Well, she obviously never tells me anything about what you’re working on,’ said Sarah hastily. ‘That would be unprofessional. She loved Science at school and always had her head in a textbook. I preferred English and Art.’

Ewan smiled. ‘I enjoyed Art but I had to drop it. My teachers thought I had too much on my plate with my Science GSCEs and A levels and they were probably right. What do you do now?’

‘I run my own business.’

‘Really? What do you do?’

‘I used to work in a bank. I managed the SME liaison team but now I um … have my own small craft business.’

‘Craft? What sort? Sculpture? Woodwork?’

‘Jewellery, actually.’ Sarah knew she should be proud of her business and hated herself for feeling embarrassed about it but Molly had banged on so often about Ewan’s fearsome intellectual reputation.

‘Silversmith? Or another material?’

‘I do use silver wire. I make tiaras …’

‘That sounds high-powered. For royalty?’ He smiled – briefly – probably to show he was joking and wasn’t used to it, Sarah decided. Whatever, she wasn’t offended at his joke.

‘In my dreams. No, for brides, mainly, though some of them do behave like princesses. Most, in fact,’ she said, thinking of Cassandra Burling’s demands. ‘I sometimes do commissions and I run workshops for brides and people who want to create their own jewellery.’ Like Liam Cipriani, she thought, making a mental note to call him back.

‘I must admit that bridal tiaras are out of my sphere of expertise,’ said Ewan.

But he was married once, Molly had said. Sarah wondered if the ex-Mrs Baxter had worn a tiara. Somehow, she couldn’t picture it.

‘How are you feeling? Do you think you should see your GP about the faintness?’

‘I already have. In fact, I saw her this morning. I’m pregnant.’

Ewan looked taken aback but then nodded. ‘Aha. Congratulations.’

‘Thanks.’ Sarah managed to squeeze the muscles of her mouth into a very fleeting smile. Even though Niall was a shit, she still desperately wanted this baby, but Ewan was too sharp not to notice her reluctance.

‘Did I say the wrong thing?’

‘No. You didn’t. It’s just … well, my partner and I have split up.’ Christ, it hurt her heart to even say it out loud. ‘The night of the party actually.’

‘Bummer. I’m sorry.’

‘Yeah.’

Ewan fiddled with the wrapper off the biscuits. ‘It’s never easy, when a relationship goes wrong. Spectacularly wrong in my case.’ He glanced up at her. ‘I’d like to say it gets easier and I suppose it does but it takes a long time.’

‘How long?’ asked Sarah, wishing he hadn’t said anything that made her heart hurt. But now like a child drawn to a flame, she had to feel the pain, know the worst from someone who’d been through it.

‘Everyone’s different, obviously, but for me? Six months before I even accepted she’d gone.’

‘And now? How long has it been since she left you?’

Ewan blew out a breath. ‘Two years, eleven months and ten days.’

Sarah’s jaw dropped. ‘Please tell me I can’t feel this bad for the next three years.’

‘Oh no, I hope not. You won’t, I’m sure.’

Sarah’s disbelief must have been obvious because Ewan’s voice took on a slightly more soothing tone. ‘Sorry. I shouldn’t have said anything. I’m making things worse, aren’t I? I do that: make things worse for people whenever I open my mouth. I think I’m trying to help but I end up making people feel like shit. Anna – my ex – said I was the most tactless man on the planet. It was one of the reasons she ran off with a colleague, along with me being a workaholic and possibly a little bit obsessive.’

Even though she wasn’t reassured, Sarah managed a smile for him. ‘You’re not making things worse. I don’t feel they could be any worse at the moment and I know that getting over Niall will be awful, even though I would never take him back of course, which is exactly why I can’t face it.’

‘Well, at least you don’t work with this guy. Do you?’

‘No. He’s a paramedic.’ Hot anger surged through her veins again as she relived the scene in the cottage bedroom. ‘I came home after the party to find him having sex in our bed with the bloody woman who drives the ambulance. He was wearing one of my tiaras.’

‘Bloody hell …’ Ewan had hissed the words through his teeth but a nearby customer glared at him. He lowered his voice. ‘That’s terrible.’

All Sarah could do was nod.

‘Anna left me for one of the post-docs in my lab at my old uni. She was his boss and I was her colleague. It was crap having to work together every day. I left in the end and got the job here in Cambridge but the last three months were a hell on earth, seeing her and him together every day.’

‘I’ll bet it was,’ said Sarah innocently, knowing that Molly had told her about Ewan’s lecture on the perils of people working – and shagging – together.

‘However, I’ve learned my lesson. I will never get involved with anyone I work with again as much for their sake as well as mine,’ said Ewan firmly.

‘It sounds awful.’

‘Everyone in the lab knew what had happened between the three of us and I know most were waiting for me to have a meltdown or us all to have a bloody duel or something. People ended up taking sides and the atmosphere in the lab was a nightmare. You know, refusing to share offices or go to the pub together, sitting separately at lunch; acting like schoolkids. It was impossible to behave professionally or focus on our work and excruciating to have everyone at work knowing about our private lives.’ Ewan went on gloomily. ‘I took my eye off the ball and we missed out on a major grant that was vital to our work.’

Sarah felt sorry for him but she was way more worried for her sister’s chances with Ewan. They were looking worse by the minute and she had a suspicion that Ewan might be telling her his sorry tale precisely because he knew Sarah would be bound to pass on the conversation to Molly and warn her off. Oh shit.

Molly breezed up to the table in her hi-vis jacket carrying a cycle helmet. ‘Sarah! I am so sorry I’m late …’ She stared at Ewan like he was a zombie. ‘Ewan? What are you doing here?’

‘I was just going actually.’ He scraped back his chair and got to his feet with indecent haste.

Sarah cringed on Molly’s behalf. ‘I wasn’t feeling well and Ewan saw me. He bought me a drink,’ she said hastily.

‘I can see that. Why didn’t you text me?’

‘I … um …’ Sarah floundered. Ewan didn’t have to be a professor to realise that Sarah had expected Molly all along.

‘I must go. I’d hate to interrupt your lunch,’ he said coolly.

‘Wait, Ewan. I was going to mention that Molly was meeting me here but when we got talking, I um … forgot. Thanks for the tea and helping me.’

Ewan shrugged. ‘No problem. Take care. Bye, Molly.’

‘You don’t have to go.’ Sarah cringed as she and Molly both spoke at once and both sounded desperate.

‘I’ve been away long enough. Molly, see you later. I presume you were planning to come in later to finish the sequencing?’

‘Yes, but …’

But Ewan was out of there, leaving Molly glaring at Sarah.

‘Right. I’m going to get some more tea and when I come back,’ she said in an ominous tone, ‘I want you to tell me what Ewan said and I mean everything. Don’t spare me. I want you to be brutally honest.’

Sarah wasn’t in the mood for being brutal. She wasn’t even in the mood for being a teeny bit harsh. She would, eventually and tactfully, drop hints about Ewan’s private life but she wasn’t sure Molly could cope with the whole truth in one go.

Molly put a cup of ginger tea in front of Sarah and a hot chocolate topped with cream and marshmallows for her. The sight of the cream made Sarah feel woozy so she sipped her tea.

‘OK?’ Molly asked.

‘Yes, thanks.’

‘Good. Now, spill.’

‘We, um … just talked about the weather, mainly.’

‘The weather? Ewan doesn’t register if it’s arctic or tropical, he spends so long in the lab. You must have talked about other stuff.’

‘Honestly, I wasn’t feeling very well and I almost walked in front of a cyclist and he brought me in here and then, you came.’

‘Just what I suspected. He fancies you.’ Molly scooped some of the cream, and it oozed over the rim into her saucer.

Sarah tried to avert her eyes. ‘He doesn’t fancy me. He was just being kind because he’s a nice guy but I can see what you mean about him being blunt … Molly, don’t do that thing with your lips, like you’re pissed off because I swear on my life that Ewan likes you, because he pulled silly string out of your boobs and he snogged you with tongues and told you he wanted to take you to bed. He feels sorry for me and he wanted a break and a chat to someone who is nothing to do with the lab … Men don’t get much opportunity to talk about their feelings so I guess he just took a chance.’

‘Ewan looking for the chance to talk about his feelings?’ Molly snorted chocolate on the table. ‘But he must have known that whatever he “shared” would get straight back to me. So come on, share.’

Sarah tried, as tactfully as she could, to relay what Ewan had told her. Molly munched a pain au chocolat gloomily while Sarah relayed the conversation.

‘Jesus, you’ve found out more about his private life in ten minutes than I have in ten months. He hinted to me that his split with his wife had caused a lot of trouble at work but you got all the details. He must have known you’d pass it on. It’s a message to me: back off, there’s no hope.’

‘I’m not sure he did tell me so I could warn you. I think he genuinely wanted someone to talk to from outside of work.’

‘But he knows you’re my sister. He must have had an ulterior motive.’

‘Mol, have you ever thought that you might be overthinking this?’

‘Overthinking is my job.’ Molly paused. ‘He must fancy you.’

‘You’re wrong and even if he did like me in that way – which I’m absolutely sure he doesn’t – it wouldn’t matter. He is gorgeous and he’s nice but I don’t want Ewan. I don’t want anyone. I just want things back the way they were.’

‘Oh, hon, I wish I could do something to help you … Are you absolutely sure Ewan didn’t say anything else about me?’

By the time Molly had drunk the chocolate and eaten her pastry, Sarah had almost managed to convince her that Ewan hadn’t said anything momentous. Eventually, just as Sarah had despaired of ever being let off the hook, Molly gave her a sympathetic look.

‘You do look knackered. Here’s me, obsessing over bloody Ewan again and you have real problems. How did you get on at the doctor’s? Have they given you a due date?’

‘Uh-huh. Towards the end of August.’

‘Wow. That’s a long time away.’

‘It seems horrendously close to me.’

‘I suppose so, if you’re the one with the baby. Oh, ignore me, Sarah, I’m hopeless. I may know a lot about reproduction in theory, but in practice, I’m worse than clueless.’

‘Join the club.’

‘God, I hope not. Not yet anyway!’

They both laughed. ‘Even though I really wanted a baby one day, I hadn’t planned for it to happen like this. It’s like one of those bad dreams where you think you’ve got to do your exams again and you haven’t done any revision. Only worse. Much worse.’

Molly laughed. ‘I’m sorry but that does sound horrifying. I’ll do everything I can to help, in my useless way. I’ll never forget the way you helped me through A levels and uni. Even when I was an arsey little cow, you were there for me.’

‘I’m glad you remember being arsey,’ said Sarah, smiling. ‘But you don’t owe me anything. I did it because I wanted to and Mum and Dad would have wanted me to. This is totally different. You can’t wave your magic wand over me or magic up a solution this time. Neither of us can.’

Sarah shoved a clump of croissant in her mouth to distract herself then thought, almonds? Was she allowed those?

‘Have you told Niall yet?’ Molly asked. ‘Even though you hate him right now, and I don’t blame you, hon, he needs to know. After all he was responsible for fifty per cent of it. Although that’s not quite true – Niall’s will be more like forty-nine-point nine per cent because you’ll pass on the mitochondrial DNA, of course … that’s Mum’s DNA too, and Gran’s and our great-grandma’s …’

Molly’s voice tailed off. Sarah knew what she was thinking; she didn’t have to ask. How much their parents would have loved to share this moment; how proud and thrilled and angry and hurt they would have been, all at once. Molly stared into her mug, avoiding Sarah’s eyes, probably, not wanting to see her own grief reflected. Neither of them dared share what they were thinking about their parents. The news about Niall and the baby had brought the loss so near the surface for both of them all over again. It wouldn’t take much, Sarah knew, for them to start bawling the café down.

‘Is the cheating little toe rag still staying at his mum’s?’ Molly asked eventually. Her voice was tight and fierce.

Even with a mouthful of tears and croissant, Sarah managed a brief smile at Molly’s sisterly loyalty. She didn’t fancy Ni’s chances if he walked into the café at this particular moment. She could well imagine him pinned on a specimen board like some helpless insect. Sarah found that idea quite comforting.

‘He’s tried to call me. At least ten times in fact and um, he left me a message … He wants me to meet him. He says he’s “eaten up with guilt” and wants to know if I could ever forgive him.’

‘What? No way!’ Molly burst out.

Sarah cringed as diners at the nearby tables stared at them.

Molly glared back and they quickly looked away.

‘Sorry, Sarah, but how dare he ask you that. You’re not going to see him, are you? Or get back with him?’

‘Of course not. What do you think I am? I haven’t even answered his calls yet. I don’t trust myself, but I will have to speak to him sometime, even if I’d rather never see the slimeball again.’

‘I know, I know …’ said Molly glumly. ‘I suppose you’re right. You will have to tell him about the baby. He is the father and you can’t do this alone.’

You can’t do this alone. Sarah was stung by the statement, even though Molly was right. ‘Why not?’ she said slowly. ‘In fact, why does he have to be involved at all? He’s forfeited the right and thousands of women bring up families on their own.’

‘I – well, I guess there’s no reason …’ Molly said warily. Sarah realised her sister was trying desperately not to upset her. ‘You’re independent and I know you’ll cope brilliantly, but surely, he ought to take the rap for his part in it? He definitely ought to give you financial support.’

Sarah knew that Molly was right but doing what was right wasn’t high on her list of priorities. She was drowning in a morass of confusing emotions. Anger and grief, excitement over the baby despite everything. The whole thing was completely overwhelming and even though she knew she wasn’t thinking logically, she didn’t care. ‘I suppose so,’ she said. ‘But I can’t face it yet. Before I tell him, I need to get used to the fact I’m going to be a mother first.’

Molly left her with a huge hug and they went their separate ways. By the time Sarah got back to the cottage, the answerphone was beeping with four messages. Sod it, she had to phone Liam Cipriani back. She pushed the button and scrolled through a message from Cassandra, a PPI company and a friend from her yoga class.

She braced herself for the second message from Liam, doubtless accusing her of ignoring him.

‘Sarah, it’s me. We need to talk.’

Niall’s voice, low and annoyed, rasped through the phone line.

‘Too late for that,’ she shouted, drowning out the rest of the message so that she had to suffer the agony of replaying it.

‘I know you won’t answer your mobile but I have to see you. Can I come over tonight for a chat?’

‘A chat? What do you think this is? The Graham Norton Show?’ Sarah glared at the phone but her fingers twitched nonetheless.

‘Are you there, darlin’? I’m worried about you. I’ve been a mess since the other night. I almost had to go off sick. I can’t stand not hearing your voice. Just a word from you to let me know you’re OK would be enough …’

Sarah’s hand hovered over the phone to pick it up and immediately call him back. Niall sounded weary and beaten down. She had no sympathy, obviously, but she did believe he was genuinely worried about her.

‘I’ll be round at half past seven whether you reply to this or not. It can’t be any earlier because I’m on shift tonight. Please just hear me out for five minutes. That’s all I ask. I …’ His voice broke and he seemed to be fighting back tears. ‘Sare. I’m not sure I can handle life without you … How many times can I say I’m sorry?’

The line went dead.

Sarah stabbed the button to end the messages and collapsed onto the sofa, hugging a cushion. She didn’t want to talk to Niall or see him but she had to sooner or later. He did sound desperate. He was a happy-go-lucky sort, the joker in the pack, the life and soul of any party. To hear the edge of panic in his voice disturbed her. He’d said he couldn’t handle life without her …

Her stomach turned over.

What if he did do something drastic? No matter how much she hated him right now, she didn’t want that.