‘It’s around about now, right, that the baby’s due?’
‘Mmhh. How on earth did you remember that?’
‘Well, as your assistant, it’s my job to keep track of everything in your life. Also, it’s written all over your face. My guess is you’re thinking about it a lot?’
There was no getting anything by Amira, but Bea wouldn’t have expected anything less from her closest friend.
‘Yep, the baby’s due around about now and I’m finding it difficult to stop thinking about it. That’ll be one lucky kid having Cal as its dad.’
Amira topped up Bea’s glass. ‘Have you thought any more about getting in touch with him?’
‘No, I don’t think so,’ said Bea. ‘I mean, I have thoughtabout it, but I don’t see what’s changed. I still don’t think I could cope with being a half mom or something.’
‘Well, that’s a shame. He did sound like Mr Perfect.’
‘He was pretty damned perfect.’ Bea wondered if she would ever find anyone quite so wonderful again.
When Bea had said she’d read the fan mail with tissues, she hadn’t anticipated needing a whole box. There were so many moving messages and she was truly humbled. That evening, she sat up until two replying to each one with heartfelt gratitude to her wonderful readers for sharing their stories with her. But there were two messages in particular that stood out. One was from a reader called Andrea:
It means the world to have my concerns over being a stepmom reflected back to me from the pages of a novel. Thank you for putting what is in in my heart into a character, so eloquently and accurately. I should also say that although being a stepmom is darned hard at times, I am so glad I chose to go down this route. My love for my husband is stronger than ever and his kids are amazing young people who fill me with so much pride.
There was also a message from a reader called Laura:
Having lost the love of my life – the bravest and most selfless man I ever knew – on what should have been a simple tour of duty, I have to say that I treasure your books for both the escapism as well as hope that one day I might love in that way again. Never stop writing your beautiful stories.
These messages were truly heartbreaking and uplifting at the same time. Bea was reading this last message again and nearly choked on her tears when the realisation hit her. What on earth was she doing? These women were inspiredby her: women with problems that they had overcome. Overcome with love and hope and strength. Why did Bea think she was any different? Cal loved her, she loved him, yet here they were living on separate continents because Bea was afraid that an innocent little baby might impede him loving her enough. What an absolute fool she was. All the emails and messages people had written telling her that her stories had given them hope in a world where they thought they could never find true love, and there she was having found it, but thrown it away like a perfect winter coat with a small pulled thread in the fabric. Not a day went by when she didn’t long for Cal: to feel him envelop her, to have his hot skin burning with hers, his fingers linked through her own. It didn’t escape her attention that she was pining as if it were impossible to have any of this. Yet, that was not the case. Oh, what an idiot she was. What an absolute fool.
Bea opened up a blank email and started to type. She might not be able to get Cal back, but she owed him a proper explanation.
Chapter 57
Cal
Cal’s flight landed at JFK on a sunny April morning. He hoped this was a good omen. Although, he had a fair bit of work to do before he could even find Bea, never mind win her back, armed with only the address on her driver’s licence she had used as ID when signing up to work at the bar, and the name of the Manhattan bar she worked in, or once worked in.Not at all like hunting for a needle in a haystack, he thought ironically. But he would do it. He would find her. He hadn’t flown all this way to give up after a morning.
She wasn’t at the apartment and he couldn’t see a buzzer marked Gracie. Cal rang the other buzzers until he got a response, but the neighbour wasn’t forthcoming apart from to say that Bea had moved out. Cal felt like he was in a Hollywood movie. He made his way across town to the bar she had worked at. A sleek, modern building with full glass frontage and a gunmetal interior. Impressive stuff. Not only the bar itself, but the fact that Bea worked here, or had used to. It would definitely get busy on evenings and weekends. He imagined Bea handling each customer with aplomb,mixing the most complicated cocktails and delivering them with a million-watt smile on her face, breaking customers’ hearts left, right and centre. Just as she had broken his.
He asked at the bar.
‘Bea? Yeah, she worked here, but she packed it in a few weeks ago. Her writing is taking up all her time now.’
Cal nodded. He knew about Bea’s writing success. He’d followed it online, delighted for her hard work to be rewarded at last, although sad at being unable to help her celebrate and enjoy her achievements. He went to a nearby branch of a coffee chain and drank a latte while thinking about what to do next.
While he was drinking his coffee, Cal pulled out his phone and read Bea’s email for what must be the hundredth time.
Dearest Cal,
This is a message I should have sent a long time ago. In fact, this is probably something I should have said to you in person last time we saw each other. But my head was in a different place then. Allow me to explain.
You were right when you said I was upset about you having a baby with someone else. I was upset, but not because I was jealous, more I was terrified because it brought up such feelings of insignificance for me. So much so that I didn’t think I could cope with being with you when the child was born.
The reason I found this so difficult – and found it almost impossible to share with you in person – is because of my previous relationship. I told you my ex was controlling and that he left me. What I didn’t mention was that the woman he left me for fell pregnant as soon as he and I broke up. This gave me a huge inferiority complex on top of the one already cultivated by him – feelings of worthlessness around notbeing a mother yet, of not being a ‘proper woman’, which I know are nonsense, but I couldn’t help it. I simply couldn’t cope with those emotions again but this time with a man I had fallen head over heels in love with, more than I ever have for anyone in my life. That’s you, by the way, in case you were wondering.
I guess you will know by now whether you are a father or not. I wish you nothing but health and happiness, whatever the outcome. I can only apologise that I was not more open with you at the time. I was struggling immensely and could not work out my feelings to articulate them. Please believe me when I say that I am truly sorry, and I hope this helps you to understand why I may have behaved in a way that came across as irrational or cold. Trust me when I say it was not at all what was going on inside.
Yours regretfully but warmly and with love, always.
Bea
