was he thinking? And then a warm hand crept up and covered hers, squeezing gently. ‘I’m sorry you lost your daughter, Carrie. That must have been a terrible time for you.’
The quiet acknowledgement made tears spring to her eyes. ‘Thank you, Dan,’ she whispered.
For Ruby. He was expressing his sorrow for the loss of her daughter. For Ruby. Some people didn’t like to acknowledge a baby who had been lost. Some people didn’t even want to say their names. It was easier to pretend they’d never existed. After all, babies who had never drawn breath in this world, they practically hadn’t been here.
Except Ruby had been here.
She’d kicked under her mother’s expanding stomach for seven months. She’d twisted and turned in the middle of the night, constantly having dancing competitions that kept her mother awake into the small hours. Sometimes a little foot or hand had been clearly visible as Carrie had lain watching her belly.
Ruby McKenzie had definitely existed. And it was so nice to finally talk about her. Talk about her in a normal way instead of in hushed, quiet tones.
‘Is that what’s in the silver box upstairs?’
Now he had surprised her. ‘How do you know about the box?’
‘I saw it sitting on your bed when we were in your apartment. I saw the way you looked at it.’ He gave her a little smile. ‘It’s pretty. And it seemed important.’ His finger traced along the knuckles of her hand, small circular motions. ‘Your place. You didn’t have pictures up. For a woman, that struck me as strange. I figured you had a good reason and didn’t want to ask.’
A tear slid down her cheek. ‘I’m trying to get away from memories. That’s why I’m in New York. It seemed like a good time to get away. Everything and everyone back home just reminded me of last year. It made sense. Coming here, getting away from it all.’
Dan traced his finger from her hand to her breastbone. His voice was intense. ‘You can’t get away from what’s in here, Carrie. It stays with you all the time—no matter where you go.’
Wow. Her breath caught in her throat.
It was the way he said the words. The understanding. How could Dan be so in tune with things? There was an intensity she hadn’t seen before. A darkening of his brown eyes from caramel tones to deep chocolate colours.
He knew. He understood her straight away, and she didn’t know why.
‘I know that. But sometimes what’s in here feels easier if you’ve got room to deal with it yourself.’ Easier than everyone clamouring around you, suffocating you with their grief.
‘And has it been? Has it been easier, Carrie?’
‘I thought it was. I thought I was coming to terms with things.’ Her eyes went down to Abraham. ‘Until now. Until him.’ She could hear the waver in her voice, feel the tremble in her throat. She desperately wanted to keep it together. She wanted to put her thoughts, feelings and frustrations into words—in a way she’d never managed before.
But Dan’s reaction was flooring her. She couldn’t have asked for more.
Dan shook his head. ‘No wonder you didn’t want to help out. No wonder you tried to make excuses.’ His eyes were still heavy with weariness and she could see the lines on his face. He was fighting fatigue with every bone in his body.
He turned around on the sofa so he was facing her entirely. ‘I’m sorry, Carrie. I had no idea how hard this was for you. But I really needed your help. I couldn’t do this on my own. I don’t know the first thing about babies.’
The gentle tears were still flowing. ‘And neither do I, Dan. I never got the chance to find out. And I’m so worried I’ll do something wrong. What if I caused Ruby to be stillborn? What if it was something I did? Something I ate? I’m not sure I should be around babies. I’m terrified that I’ll do something wrong. What if he’s sick and I don’t know it? What if the jaundice gets worse instead of better?’ She shook her head. ‘I’ve already held one dead baby in my arms. I couldn’t live with myself if anything happened to Abraham.’
Panic was welling up inside her and threatening to take over.
Some things were still too much for her. Still too raw.
Dan put his hands on her shoulders. ‘Don’t, Carrie. Don’t do this to yourself. We’ve spoken to Shana. You heard what she said. As soon as possible, she’ll arrange to examine Abraham and make sure everything is fine. Nothing happened today when you bathed him. Abraham must have just held his breath. As soon as you handed him to me, it was almost as if he let out a little squawk. It was nothing you did, Carrie. Nothing at all. As for doing something wrong—I’m more likely to do that than you. You’re a natural. Everything you do is right. No matter how hard you’re finding this, you still make a much better parent than I do. I couldn’t even get a diaper on straight!’ He pressed his fingers into the tops of her arms. ‘I don’t know what happened to Ruby, but I don’t believe for a second it was your fault. Did they ever tell you? What did the medical examiner say?’
Carrie took a deep breath. ‘Nothing. They found nothing. Although she was early Ruby was the right size and weight. There was nothing wrong with my placenta. There was nothing wrong with the umbilical cord. I hadn’t been in an accident. I didn’t have any infections. My blood pressure was fine. They couldn’t give me a single reason why Ruby stopped moving that day. She was perfect. She was perfect in every way.’
Her voice was cracking now. Her head was filling with pictures of that room. The expression on the radiographer’s face as she swept Carrie’s abdomen, trying to find a heartbeat with no success. The quiet way she had spoken, mentioning she needed to look for a colleague before disappearing out of the door.
And Carrie, sitting in the semi-dark room, knowing, just knowing, that life was about to change in an unimaginable way. Placing her hands on her stomach, ignoring the gel, and just talking to her baby. Telling her that Mummy loved her. Forever and ever.
Ruby’s name had been picked weeks before. The hand-painted letters already adorned the door of the room in their flat that had been dedicated as the nursery. The nursery that Ruby would never see—never live in.
She could see the empathy on Dan’s face. He understood. He understood the pure frustration of having no reason, no answer to the worst thing that could happen to her.
He lifted his heavy eyelids with caution. ‘What about Ruby’s dad?’
‘What about Ruby’s dad?’ She shook her head. A small bit of guilt still weighed on her soul. ‘Mark was a good guy. But neither of us could cope with what happened. Things just fell apart. He got another job and moved away. He’s met someone now. And I’m happy for him. We just couldn’t stay together—it was far too hard. Like having a permanent reminder etched on your brain.’
‘Seems to me that Ruby will be permanently etched on your brain anyhow. Whether you’re with Mark or not.’
She stared at him. That was blunt and to the point. And for the first time Dan had a deep crease across his forehead. A crease she wanted to reach up and smooth away with her fingers.
She was feeling it. This connection to Dan. Just as he was feeling it, too.
Mark was a chapter of her life that was over. And although she thought about Ruby frequently, she barely ever thought about Mark.
Dan’s last remark seemed almost protective, and a tiny bit territorial. And the strangest thing was she didn’t mind. Why had she been so scared to talk about this?
It wasn’t comfortable. It wasn’t comfortable at all. But Dan seemed to understand more than she would have expected him to.
And Dan was everything Mark wasn’t. Mark couldn’t bear to be around her once she’d lost Ruby. It was too hard. Too hard for them both. But Dan was nothing like that. She couldn’t imagine Mark in this situation. Looking after