‘No, it’s...’
‘I can’t understand why you’re so horrified at the idea of me giving birth,’ Leila exclaimed with frustration when he fell silent. ‘And if you won’t tell me—’
‘I won’t tell you, because it’s none of your damn business. I’ve told you more than enough already.’
‘Because we trust each other,’ she insisted, staring up into his rigid face. ‘Or we did.’
‘Trust takes time to build, Leila, and can be lost in a heartbeat.’
‘Is that what happened to us, Raffa?’
‘What do you think?’
Raffa’s words were like a series of slaps hitting her in the face. By the time they both fell silent her head was reeling with confusion and hurt. This was the last thing she had wanted when she told Raffa about the baby. They had shared so many things, and they had grown close while she’d been on the island; that wasn’t an illusion. Friendship might have taken over from passion, she was quite prepared to admit that, but both were dead now. And she had so wanted this to be a special and tender moment between them. If only she could get to the bottom of Raffa’s horror at the thought of her giving birth. If only she could bring him back to her. His behaviour was so unreasonable there had to be something more eating away at him, but unless he was prepared to tell her, they would never be close again.
Her hand moved instinctively to cover her stomach, as if she could protect the tiny life from all the emotion swirling round it. ‘The last thing I had intended was to upset you, or shock you. I kept waiting for the right moment—the perfect moment, but it must have passed me by. Please forgive me.’
He didn’t reply. He couldn’t reply. He was empty inside. He closed off from feeling because he didn’t know any other way. He had lived behind emotional barricades since he was a child. How could he ever be a fit parent? His life didn’t allow for children. He was always driving forward to seize the next opportunity, or to close the next deal.
‘Parents at war are my worst nightmare,’ Leila said, echoing his own thoughts on the subject. ‘But perhaps we can be friends, Raffa. And if you really don’t want any part in this, wouldn’t it be better for me to return to Skavanga without any more fuss?’
‘Fuss?’ Repeating the word, he tossed it around in his mind. He wanted all the fuss in the world to surround Leila on the day she gave birth. ‘And you want to go back to Skavanga?’ he said distractedly, already making plans to appoint the top people in their field to attend her—but here. Here on the island.
‘In your current mood,’ she said quietly, ‘I’d be relieved.’
He was slowly coming out of the dark tunnel into the light, from the past to the present, and now he was fully focused on Leila he couldn’t believe how controlled she was, how calm. But Leila had always been the one fixed point in a turbulent sea of siblings.
And the child had changed her. It had given her a new inner strength. No more the mouse in the shadow of her siblings, Leila had emerged as a warrior in defence of her child. But if she thought she could keep this baby away from him and disappear out of his life for good, she was wrong, though he would never promise her more than he was capable of giving. ‘I accept full responsibility, of course, but that doesn’t change anything between us.’
‘I don’t expect it to, Raffa.’ Leila’s gaze remained unswerving on his face. ‘I’m quite capable of handling this on my own. I have a duty to tell you, and that is all.’