Reunited by Their Pregnancy Surprise Read online

  She wanted him to remember it all. She really did. How else were they both going to recover? Right now Sam seemed happy about the pregnancy, and he was clearly wanting to be physical with her. Kissing her. Reaching out for her hand. Giving her the love that she’d craved. The closeness and intimacy that had been sadly lacking in their relationship since the arguments had started. But it was still difficult for her. Strange…

  Because she did remember.

  What would happen tonight? Would he sleep in their bed? Lately he’d been sleeping at work, and when he had made it home he’d either told her he’d sleep on the couch or go to a guest room. That had been embarrassing—the staff certainly knew—and also deeply hurtful.

  Was it wrong to wish desperately that Sam wouldn’t recall that part of their relationship? Was it wrong to be putting all her hope into this second chance they’d been given? Was it wrong to wish that Sam wouldn’t regain his memories at all?

  Of course it is! And I feel terrible for even giving those thoughts space in my head!

  It was as if Sam were two different people right now, though she knew that it wasn’t really true.

  He’s the same man and I need to remember that. The man who wouldn’t talk to me is the same man standing next to me right now. And I’m not sure I know how we’re going to sort this.

  There was a baby that would need its father. Emily hadn’t had one of those. Or a mother. Not really. She had been passed to an aunt by her mother so she could go rushing off after some ageing rock star and travel with him to gigs, and after that last time she’d just never come back. Even now Emily had no idea where or who she really was. Her mother had a name, but she didn’t know more than that.

  Staying with her Aunt Sylvia hadn’t provided much insight either. Sylvia had not been a big fan of her sister, and had resented being left with a young toddler who made lots of noise and even more mess. Emily had soon stopped asking Sylvia and her Uncle Martin questions they never had answers to.

  Who’s my real mummy?

  When is she coming back?

  Does she love me?

  The sound of drawers being opened and closed brought Emily back to the present. If Sam, now sitting behind his desk, was looking for something personal there he’d be disappointed. They only contained work-related paperwork and files. He looked lost in a world that should have been oh-so-familiar to him.

  ‘It’ll come back, Sam. Maybe not today. But it will.’ She hated to see him hurting. It hurt her in return.

  He smiled at her attempt to comfort him, but it was bitter. ‘Well, a bit did come back today—only it wasn’t what I expected.’

  He shook his head, as if he couldn’t quite believe all that she had told him. The bad memory had clearly rocked him to his core and he seemed to be thrown by that. He’d believed them to be happy. Why wouldn’t they be? She wished she could explain it to him, but she didn’t have any answers herself.

  ‘We have to believe that things will get better.’

  ‘Speaks the eternal optimist.’

  Pulling deep within herself, she leaned over his desk and made him look her in the eyes. ‘You’re a fighter, Sam. We would never have got the Monterey started if it hadn’t been for your vision. You’ve got to believe that all those memories in there…the ones that make you you…they’re still in there. They’re not lost. Not really. You just don’t have access yet.’

  ‘Like membership to an exclusive club?’

  She nodded. ‘Exactly.’

  ‘I’m not sure I want membership to the bad marriage club.’

  Emily stood up straight. ‘Me neither. But we’re in it, and we both have to work together if we want to make changes.’

  He looked about the room one more time, before he stood and tucked his chair under his desk. ‘You’re right. We do.’

  *

  The telephone call came as they were heading downstairs. Emily’s cell vibrated in her pocket and she knew immediately what the call was about the second she saw the name of the caller.

  ‘Em? It’s Marc—Sophie’s husband. Her waters have broken and she’s having strong contractions. We’re coming in to the Monterey.’

  Marc and Sophie were a couple who had come to the Monterey for fertility treatment and had conceived their much wanted first child through IVF. Sophie was terrified of both hospitals and needles—something she’d had to overcome to get through her hormone treatments and appointments. Emily had promised from the very beginning that she would be there to help them deliver their child, and Sophie had come to rely on Emily being there as her safe harbour, her port in a storm.

  Emily’s heart was torn between Sophie’s labour and staying with Sam, whom she’d just brought home.

  ‘Hi, Marc. I’m at home at the moment…hang on—’ She held the phone to her chest so she could privately talk to Sam. ‘It’s clients. Sophie and Marc? The IVF couple? Sophie’s in labour—I promised I would be there.’

  Sam looked blank at the names, but he nodded anyway. He knew that work was important to them both. ‘You should go.’

  ‘You’ve only just come home. You need someone with you.’

  He smiled. ‘I have staff, remember? Go be with Sophie.’

  She loved it that this part of Sam was still here. The need to be there for their patients, putting them first, staying true to the promises they made to care for their charges.

  Em lifted the phone back to her ear. ‘I’ll come in. How far away are you?’

  ‘I’m already driving, but traffic is heavy. Twenty minutes?’

  ‘I’ll meet you at the entrance. See you soon.’ She ended the call and smiled at Sam. ‘Thank you.’

  ‘Hey, it’s not a problem. It’s what we do. Go on. You don’t want to miss it.’

  No. She didn’t. She laid a hand on his arm, smiling, and then started running down the stairs, grabbing her purse and keys from the table and hurrying out of the front door.

  She hated leaving him alone. But perhaps he needed some time in their home to wander about and look at things without feeling under pressure to remember.

  She told herself it was a good thing she was heading in to the Monterey. She was about to see the outcome of a long, difficult journey for Sophie and Marc. This was what their work was all about. Welcoming new life into the world. Celebrating that.

  And soon it would be her and Sam’s turn.

  One day. Maybe.

  *

  Sophie was labouring hard. Her normally calm and serene face was now red and creased, and her eyes were closed tight as she tried to breathe through a contraction.

  Her husband Marc stood by her, one hand clutching hers, the other rubbing hard at the small of his wife’s back.

  Sophie had not wanted to get into bed. She’d said it had made her too uncomfortable. She wanted to get into the large birthing tub, which was currently filling with water.

  ‘How much longer?’ Sophie asked, blowing away the last of the contraction.

  Emily checked the temperature of the water, which was perfect. ‘Okay. You can get into the pool now.’

  Marc helped his wife strip off the last of her garments and held her arm as she gingerly stepped over the side of the pool and lowered herself, settling into the warm embrace of the water.

  ‘Oh, my God, this is bliss!’

  Marc laughed. ‘That’s not what you said a moment ago.’

  Emily smiled at them both. It was a surprise to a lot of husbands that their partners often felt so much better between contractions. Making a note in Sophie’s file, she entered the time her patient had got into the pool and then got a Sonicaid device and listened to the baby’s heartbeat by pressing the probe against Sophie’s abdomen. There was a little sound of interference, and then a strong, steady heartbeat sounded out in the small room.

  ‘Sounds perfect, Sophie. You’re on track. Any urge to push?’

  Her patient wiped her brow. ‘I’m not sure. I think so…a little with that last one.’

  ‘Okay, let�
�s see how you are with the next few contractions and if that feeling increases we’ll check to see if you’re fully dilated.’

  Sophie nodded, and then braced herself against the pool as another contraction hit.

  Emily watched as Marc helped his wife through it, surreptitiously timing the contraction. It was good and strong. At least a minute in length, which was what they needed. Sophie had to be close, and Emily felt a ball of excitement in the pit of her stomach, as she always did when a birth was near.

  This was what she lived for. Bringing new life into the world. It was something that had fascinated her ever since she’d seen a documentary on the television one evening as a child. Sylvia and Martin had gone out to an event at their local church and Emily had turned on the television out of boredom.

  She’d hardly ever seen the television switched on. Sylvia and Martin had preferred to read, or listen to a play on the radio. But Emily had known it was a source of endless fascination for her schoolfriends and so she’d switched it on that night and found a documentary about a maternity unit. There, on screen, she had watched and learned about the way babies came into the world, and she’d been captured by its raw beauty, its power. She’d been surprised to discover tears trickling down her cheeks when she’d witnessed how overwhelmed the parents were by their new child.

  I want to do that.

  Seeing love, in all its raw glory, was something that she’d craved.

  Did my mom act like that with me?

  From that day forward she’d dreamt of finding a man who would look into her eyes like that, with so much love and pride. Of carrying her own baby and experiencing that rush of love and joy as she pushed her baby into the world. Never to be alone again…never to be forgotten. Never again to be that lonely little girl, sitting in her room, wondering where her mother was.

  ‘Emily? I need to push.’

  ‘Okay, just breathe through it this time. I need to check you first.’

  Marc glanced nervously at her. ‘Shouldn’t she just push?’

  ‘If she’s not fully dilated yet it could cause swelling around the cervix and make her delivery difficult.’

  Marc looked confused, but nodded, because he trusted her implicitly.

  With the contraction over, Emily put on some gloves and checked Sophie. She smiled. ‘You’re ten centimetres! You’re all set.’

  Sophie started to cry. ‘Oh, my God! It’s happening—it’s really happening! Marc?’ She turned to her husband and clutched his hand as if she would never let go. ‘We’re going to have our baby soon.’

  Marc kissed his wife. ‘I know, honey. I’m so proud of you.’

  Sophie laid her forehead against her husband’s and then started grimacing as the next contraction hit. ‘What do I do, Emily?’

  ‘I want you to take a deep breath and then bear down into your bottom until I say stop, okay?’

  Sophie bore down, the strain showing in the redness of her face.

  ‘Seven, eight, nine, ten. Okay, another breath and push again!’

  Emily counted the seconds away. Sophie and Marc were so close now to seeing their miracle baby. They’d tried so hard to get pregnant, and for a long time had thought that it wouldn’t happen for them. Sophie and Marc hadn’t met until they were in their early forties, and after a year of trying had come to the Monterey in desperation, afraid that time was running out for both of them.

  Two cycles of IVF had failed, but on their third try they’d been successful. Sophie had been a model patient—eating right, exercising, looking after herself—and Emily knew this baby was going to be cherished.

  ‘Oh, my God, Em, how much longer?’ Sophie groaned.

  ‘Not long! I can see a head of thick dark hair! Do you want to touch?’

  ‘Really?’ Sophie reached down and felt the top of her baby’s head. ‘Oh!’

  Emily smiled and shone a light so Marc could see, too. ‘What do you think, Dad? Takes after you?’

  Marc blinked away tears. ‘This is…’ He couldn’t speak any more. He just clutched his wife’s hand and kissed the back of it. ‘Come on, Soph, you can do it—you’re nearly there.’

  It took just four more pushes and the head crowned, emerged and restituted, so that the baby faced Sophie’s inner right thigh.

  ‘Head’s out, Sophie! Just one more push and you’ll be a mum!’

  Sophie bore down as the next contraction came.

  Emily supported the baby’s head and body as it came out, and looked up at Sophie. ‘Are you ready to take your baby?’

  Sophie looked down, gasped aloud, and then reached for her newborn. ‘Oh, my God!’ She pulled the baby upward and rested it against her belly, and then burst into tears as her baby let out its first beautiful cry.

  ‘You did it, Soph! You did it!’ Marc laid his hand on his newborn child and began to cry.

  The dads’ crying always got to Emily. She had to bite her lip to stop herself from crying. She didn’t know what it was, but she’d seen this so many times and it never got old. It was a privilege, and one that she cherished.

  ‘Congratulations.’ She clamped the cord and handed the scissors to Marc. “Cut between the clamps.’

  He did so, and laughed, laying his head against his wife’s.

  ‘Did you see what flavour you got?’

  Sophie and Marc had wanted it to be a surprise.

  Sophie sniffed and wiped at her eyes, before she looked down and lifted up one of her baby’s legs. ‘It’s a girl! Marc, we have a daughter!’

  Marc kissed her and put his arm around his wife.

  Emily laid a towel over the baby. It soon got wet, but it helped to keep the baby warm. Sophie wanted a natural stage three, allowing the placenta to come out on its own, without the aid of drugs, and once that was done and had been checked, Emily helped Sophie get out of the bath and onto the bed.

  She wrapped fresh towels around their daughter and checked Sophie for tears. All looked well. She’d done brilliantly.

  ‘You haven’t torn, Sophie. That’s brilliant.’

  She stared for a moment at the family picture of Sophie, Marc and their new daughter on the bed. A solid family unit.

  She wanted that for her and Sam. That dream image that she’d built up in her imagination since she had first seen it on television. A mum. A dad. A baby. All wrapped together in the strong bonds of love. United.

  There had to be a way for them to get there.

  ‘Have you got a name for her yet?’

  Marc looked up and smiled. ‘Xanthe.’

  Emily nodded. ‘That’s beautiful.’

  She let the family have a few moments together, and then took Xanthe to check her over. All looked well, and she scored high on the APGAR, so she bundled Xanthe up again and handed her back to her parents. No doubt this little girl would be treasured and loved for her lifetime.

  ‘I’ll leave you guys alone for a moment. Give me a buzz if you need anything.’

  Emily slipped from the room and went to write up her notes about the delivery. It was wonderful when deliveries went as smoothly as this one, and Sophie and Marc—who had been through the mill—deserved their happy-ever-after.

  In her office, Emily was lost in thoughts about what would happen in the future for her and Sam. Would he regain his memories and know the whole truth about their marriage? Really, she did want him to, because then they could work through their issues. She just wanted them to have some time first. Time to reconnect, to fall back in love, time to strengthen their relationship.

  Was that so bad? Wanting the best for them? Wanting their relationship to succeed? This time could give them what they’d never had before. The opportunity to open up to each other and work out whatever the real problem was. Because there had to be a reason Sam hadn’t wanted to talk to her before.

  Now, because of the accident, because of what had happened, Sam was still reeling, and he needed to anchor himself. Find himself. And if she could help him to do that then maybe, just maybe, he would see
just how much she was fighting for their marriage. How much she wanted them to succeed. Surely he did, too, otherwise he wouldn’t be so upset that it had gone wrong?

  He’d loved her once—she just wanted to reinforce those feelings somehow. So that if everything went pear-shaped after his memories returned they would have a much better chance of staying together and having the perfect family that she wanted for them.

  Her gaze fell upon the one picture she allowed herself in her office. It was of her and Sam, in front of the Eiffel Tower in Paris during their honeymoon. They’d had such a brilliant time there. It was an enchanting city, and the way she’d felt for Sam there had been overwhelming.

  It was a pity they weren’t there now.

  But what if we could be?

  The doctors had said that the best way to help Sam find his memories would be to immerse him in experience—the sights, sounds, smells of something familiar. What if they went back to Paris? Sam was signed off work for a few months. If they could get a Fit to Fly certificate from his consultant they could go back there and experience that magical place once again!

  A spark of hope ignited in her chest and she stared at the photo once more. And if Sam’s memories did come back by then it would be too late, because he would have fallen in love with her all over again!

  They needed this.

  In the past two years Sam had been working hard to get the Monterey up and running, working tirelessly behind the scenes. She’d barely seen him, and they’d argued when she had. This would be good for her—not just Sam.

  Emily smiled and turned to her computer. Accessing the internet, she found a local travel agent and picked up the phone and dialled their number.

  There was no harm in finding out.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  AIR FRANCE FLEW out of Los Angeles International, and after eleven hours and fifty minutes Emily and Sam touched down at Charles de Gaulle Airport, north-east of Paris.

  Emily’s excitement levels were high. Paris held such great memories for her and their relationship. When they’d come here before they’d been honeymooning, newly married, accomplished owners of a successful new birth centre business and blissfully happy. Everything had been going so well for them.