The Marry-Me Wish Read online

  ‘Oh?’ The distraction was all he needed to be able to continue this examination. His hands did what they needed to do while his brain focused on his patient’s extraordinary statement.

  ‘You said I’d be missing one of life’s great experiences by never giving birth,’ Anne said. ‘So here I am. And…and right now I wish I wasn’t.’

  That made two of them. ‘You’re fully dilated,’ he informed Anne. ‘You can start pushing any time you feel the urge.’

  David straightened to find he was being stared at by the man still holding Anne’s hand.

  ‘You’re David?’ He looked both startled and sympathetic. As though he knew a little too much about how Anne’s ex might be feeling in this situation. What had Anne told him? That she’d had to end their relationship because she had no desire to have a family with him? But that she was prepared to go through it for him?

  David glared at him. ‘And you are?’

  ‘Mac.’ A fleeting grin. ‘Annie’s brother-in-law.’

  David’s jaw dropped. So did those of the nursing staff. Before anyone could say anything, however, the curtains parted and a small figure dashed into the resus area.

  ‘Annie!’

  ‘Jules. About time, kid. You nearly missed the action.

  Ohhh…’ Anne extended her hand. ‘I’ll try some of that Entonox now, thanks.’

  Now Anne had a figure on both sides of her bed. Her sister and her brother-in-law. David was missing something here. Something big.

  ‘I rang Emily,’ Julia was telling Mac. ‘She’ll be here any minute.’

  ‘Who the hell is Emily?’ It was about to get absurdly crowded in here, given that a new arrival was pushing a large incubator into the space. David had the feeling he was losing his grip on reality. Assumptions were being splintered but he didn’t know how to put the pieces into a picture that would be comprehensible.

  ‘She’s Annie’s O and G consultant,’ Julia told him. ‘Assisted fertility specialist and a friend. She’s been managing this pregnancy all along and she wants to be present for the birth. Oh, my God!’ Anne’s sister’s eyes widened. ‘David—it’s you!’

  ‘I want to push,’ Anne announced. ‘Ohhh!’

  However complicated this situation was, the birth itself was apparently going to be straightforward. Within minutes, David found himself controlling the descent of a tiny head covered with crinkly, dark hair, keeping it flexed until crowning to protect Anne from tearing.

  Waiting for the next contraction, David was aware of yet another arrival at this bedside. A female voice overrode the reassurance and encouragement Anne was receiving from both Mac and Julia.

  ‘I’m Emily Scott,’ the woman said. ‘O and G. Need a hand?’

  ‘We’re good for now.’ David could see the first shoulder appearing. This wasn’t the moment to hand over management, even to a specialist already familiar with the patient.

  ‘Fabulous.’ The voice was being directed at someone behind him now. ‘Can we get another bed in here, please? I’d like the mother to be able to get some skin contact with these infants.’

  David’s breath caught somewhere in his chest. His brain registered the odd statement from the most recent arrival but he couldn’t process it because he was stunned by the fact he was now holding Anne’s newborn baby.

  ‘It’s…’ His voice sounded raw. He had to blink and then look up from the baby who was drawing its first breath to catch Anne’s gaze. To make contact. ‘It’s a boy.’

  He began to lift the baby to put it onto her chest but Anne was shaking her head. With tears streaming down her face, she still produced a wobbly smile.

  ‘Give him to his mother,’ she said.

  Julia was crying as well. She held out her arms and a nurse draped a clean towel across them. David placed a wriggling and healthily pink baby carefully onto the towel and Julia gathered him into her arms, lifting him to nestle against the only available skin she had, where the top of her shirt was unbuttoned.

  ‘We need another bed,’ Emily ordered. ‘Let’s make some room, people. Any unnecessary staff can leave.’ With gloves on, she was moving to check Anne’s belly and she had a Doppler to assess the remaining baby’s condition.

  It was probably just as well she was taking over the management of this birth because David was staring at Julia, the pieces of this puzzle finally falling into place.

  This was a surrogate pregnancy.

  Anne hadn’t replaced him with someone she wanted to have a family with. Fragments of distant conversations were appearing in his memory. Julia had been diagnosed with endometrial cancer in her early twenties. Early stage, thank goodness, but it had meant having a hysterectomy, and dealing with the certainty of never being able to have children had been difficult to work through. There had been a disastrous relationship as well, years ago, when he had first dated Anne and he’d been envious of the close bond between the sisters. And a little put out by having to wait his turn for her time and attention.

  Anne was doing something for her sister she’d never wanted to do for herself. Extraordinary. Impressive even, but David wasn’t going to try and analyse the turmoil of his own reaction right now. Not when the Doppler was relaying the rapid ‘clop clop clop’ of an unborn baby’s heartbeat and advertising that there were far more important things he should be thinking about.

  ‘Do you want an oxytocin infusion set up?’ he asked the obstetrician.

  ‘Set it up, but we won’t use it immediately. Let’s wait and see if we get a spontaneous onset of some more contractions. Baby sounds like she’s coping. How are you doing, Anne?’

  ‘Um…I’m good…I think.’ Anne was watching her sister holding the baby. Mac had moved to that side of the bed and he was holding Julia as she held the infant. Everybody seemed to be crying and David could feel an ominous prickle behind his own eyes. He cleared his throat and reached for some clamps.

  ‘Would the father like to cut the cord?’

  ‘Sure.’ Mac was grinning. And sniffing. David caught his glance and read a trace of something that could have been embarrassment there. Because he was being so emotional in public or was it because he was the father here and not David? Whatever it was—joy or sympathy—he could feel a connection to this stranger who was realising his dream of having a family against what had probably seemed impossible odds. Besides, he was obviously a nice guy. Impossible not to like him instinctively.

  ‘Scissors are on the trolley, mate. Cut here, just between these clamps.’

  Somehow, another bed was being slotted into this small area. Julia climbed onto it and unselfconsciously bared her chest to hold her tiny son.

  ‘Perfect Apgar,’ Emily announced a minute later. She swivelled back to the other bed. ‘Now, Anne. Let’s have another look at you and see how things are shaping up for number two.’

  He could have escaped before the arrival of the second baby. If a serious case had come into the department, he would certainly have made the effort to squeeze past the extra bed and all these people and leave them to it.

  Part of him wished a nurse would put her head around the edge of the curtain and summon him to somewhere he was actually needed but he couldn’t just leave. Not while Anne was still in labour and the potential for something to go wrong still existed.

  He was also held here by the obscure notion that the emotional punishment this represented was deserved because he’d thought so badly of Anne. He’d thought she could have fallen into the arms of another man within weeks of his departure. Even—in the wakeful hours of a particularly dark night—that the whole disintegration of their relationship had been engineered as a way of escape because there had already been someone else in the wings.

  He’d almost convinced himself that Anne had arranged to have all those dates or times together interrupted by urgent calls so that he’d never seemed to be a priority in her life. That she’d discovered what he wanted most in life—a future with her that included a family—and had simply taken half of tha
t equation away from him.

  No negotiation but compromise wasn’t in Anne Bennett’s vocabulary, was it? He stood there now, as Emily waited to catch the second twin, and saw the lines of effort and pain contort Anne’s face as she pushed.

  What an extraordinary thing to be doing for someone else. Months of discomfort and change. Physical risk. Pain.

  It was typical of the woman he knew, though, wasn’t it? She was such a black-and-white person. All or nothing. If she had decided to help her sister because she couldn’t have her own baby, then she would have gone all the way.

  Anne was gasping now, between contractions, clearly very tired. Mac had his hands on her shoulders, trying to encourage her to slow her breathing.

  ‘In, one…two…three… Out, one…two…three…’

  Julia was still holding the baby boy, now wrapped in a warm cover but her gaze was fixed on her sister.

  ‘You’re doing great, Annie. I love you…’

  ‘Another push should do it,’ Emily said. ‘Wait for the next contraction and give it all you’ve got, Anne.’

  David found himself holding his breath, as caught up in this as everybody present was. Along with some excited staff on the other side of the curtain, eager for news. Successful birth stories were actually quite unusual in an emergency department and this was no ordinary story. It had captured imaginations.

  Anne would be considered a heroine doing this for her sister.

  His thoughts circled back to what he knew of her personality. So black and white. She wanted her career and was, therefore, not going to have children of her own. She had wanted the experience of childbirth but not to be a parent.

  Heroic? Or…selfish?

  Lord, where had that come from? Some pocket of envy because Anne was prepared to do this for someone other than himself? He knew it was unfair. He knew that what he was seeing here was total commitment. The positive side of being black and white.

  He’d experienced that commitment himself. Maybe that was why the thought of Anne being with anyone else had been such a shock. She didn’t do half-measures. She did total commitment and he’d had it in their relationship. He’d known that every time he’d touched her. When she allowed herself to succumb to passion she had given everything she had to give.

  Demanded all from him.

  An explosive mix that had always left them completely satisfied. Drained so that the cares of the world trickled away. Content to the point of utter bliss.

  Nobody else had ever given him that. Or demanded it from him. Not that he’d want to give that much of himself to anyone else. He couldn’t. He’d already given it away.

  To Anne.

  The second baby was emerging now. A girl who looked to be pretty much the same size as her brother. Small but not enough to need special care. She was crying already, sounding healthy.

  The beds were manoeuvred so that this baby could lie on Julia’s stomach cradled by one of each of her parents’ hands as they waited for the cord to stop pulsing before it was cut. For a minute, they were all joined. The babies, their biological parents and their birth mother.

  An incredible family unit. No wonder there were smiles and tears amongst the soft words being spoken as the babies were introduced to each other and the world. Angus was going to be the boy’s name. The girl was Amy.

  When Mac cut the cord of the second baby, Anne could have sworn she felt it herself.

  It had been weird lying here, still connected to the tiny girl who was lying on Julia’s stomach. She could see the miracle of this gift in her sister’s face. The wonder and the joy of it. And she could see—and feel—overwhelming love. Between Julia and Mac and between these new parents and their babies. A solid force that she was part of but separate from.

  And then the cord was cut and she felt the separation increase.

  Almost desperately, she scanned what she could see of the twins. Imprinting the memory of their bare skin and crinkled little faces. All those fingers and toes that Mac and Julia were touching in reverence. She wanted to touch them herself.

  To count them, as all new parents did.

  She wanted to hold them and have those serious dark eyes calmly watching her the way these babies, now quiet, were watching Julia. Imprinting their mother’s face on their brains the way she was with them.

  Her breasts ached. Anne was barely aware of what Emily was doing at the end of the bed. The calm voice telling her that the placentas seemed fine and that she hadn’t torn at all and wasn’t it great that she wouldn’t need a single stitch? She was too distracted by pulling advice from her head. The words of the counsellor that had seemed so sensible to all involved at the time.

  Don’t breastfeed, even once, no matter how strong the urge might be. It’s a mistake physically because it will stimulate milk supply and make the drying-up process a lot harder. It will also create an emotional connection that could have repercussions none of you will want.

  They had all been so clear about what they wanted. Anne would love and cherish these babies, of course, but she wasn’t their mother. Julia was. She’d been a human incubator but she was only their aunt. A very special aunt, certainly, but she had to be one step removed. She had to allow Julia and Mac to parent these children without interference or pressure of any kind. For the next few weeks, in fact, she was going to have nothing more than minimal contact while the new family bonded.

  She needed time to recover from the ordeal her body had been through. So many changes with the grand finale of birth. The power of those changes had been a revelation to Anne and it was helpful to remember that. This desperate urge to hold the babies and feed them was probably nothing more than a fresh burst of hormonal activity.

  Astonishingly powerful, these hormones. It was incredibly hard not to reach out her hand. Almost impossible to drag her gaze away from the infants. And when she did, she found David watching her with an oddly intense expression.

  Or maybe it wasn’t so odd. It hadn’t been that long ago that they’d been deeply in love and so in tune with each other they could pick up on thoughts and emotions in a kind of telepathy. Was he picking up what she was thinking now? Would he interpret her desire to hold these babies as an admission that she’d been wrong all along? That she just hadn’t known how much she did want children of her own?

  She didn’t. She hadn’t been wrong. Oh, no. She had to escape David’s gaze. It was making her feel confused. Maybe she had been wrong.

  Anne closed her eyes, which made it much easier to think straight. No. It was still there. The conviction that she wasn’t wrong. She’d given up too much of what she wanted in life already. Her childhood, to become a mother to the baby sister she’d adored. Her social life as a teenager and medical student. Sports and hobbies and anything else that took up too much time or money. Things had always been put on hold. She had always promised herself that she could have her life on her own terms once Julia didn’t need her any more.

  That time was now.

  Julia had Mac. They had their babies. This moment was more than the birth of a family. It was the birth of her own future as well. Life without sacrifice for someone else. Was that selfish?

  Maybe, but she deserved it, didn’t she? After everything she’d given up? Everything she’d been through for the person she loved the most?

  But she had loved David too. Still did, even though she didn’t dare admit how much.

  This was so hard. So confusing. Anne opened her eyes to find that David was now looking at the bed beside her. Somehow, Mac had made room to get onto the bed and cradle Julia in his arms and her arms were full of babies. Two dark little heads, one in the crook of each elbow. They seemed to be asleep now. Mac’s head was tilted and Julia’s forehead rested against his cheek. They were both looking down at the babies and someone, bless them, had produced a camera and was taking the first family photos.

  David didn’t seem to be as entranced by the photo shoot as everyone else. When her own gaze shifted she found him looking
at her again. No worries about telepathy now. He looked distant. Cold, even.

  As though it was sinking in that she’d given her sister something she was never willing to give him.

  How could she be like this?

  To give birth and not want to hold the babies? Fair enough that she didn’t want to breastfeed but to not even touch them?

  Cutting that second umbilical cord had seemed to sever Anne’s involvement. Her sister and her brother-in-law and the babies were a unit. On a separate bed. Might as well have been on a separate planet.

  How ironic that he should have been present to witness Anne deliver babies that she had no desire to parent in any way. Fate was handing him a graphic illustration of everything that had gone wrong with their relationship, really. There wasn’t any point in him being in here any longer. Emily was in charge.

  ‘We’ll get you up to Maternity,’ she was telling Julia. ‘I think we’ll keep you all in overnight. The babies are a reasonable weight but I want a full paediatric check on them both and we want to make sure they’re feeding well.’

  The consultant turned back to Anne then. Oddly, David got the impression that there was sympathy in her smile and gentle tone. ‘I’d like to keep you in overnight, too, Anne. In another ward, maybe?’

  David sucked in a breath. Had they already discussed these arrangements? Emily seemed aware that Anne wanted as little contact with the babies as possible. She was shaking her head.

  ‘I don’t want to stay.’

  ‘Do you have anyone at home?’

  ‘No.’

  The thought of her going home alone after an experience like this was too sad for words but David strangled the desire to offer comfort or support. She’d chosen this path. She didn’t have to be alone. She wanted to be.

  ‘It was a normal delivery,’ Anne said wearily. ‘And I feel fine. What’s the minimum time you keep women in these days?’

  ‘We let mothers go home after six hours if they choose but…they’re not usually by themselves.’

  ‘I’ve got a phone. I’ll call for help if I need it.’