‘Here you are,’ Luca announced ten minutes later.
Rilla opened her eyes to find him bearing a tray. He’d put a shirt on, for which she was both pleased and perversely disappointed. He placed it on the bed and sat down beside it.
She eyed the dry toast dubiously but took a nibble at Luca’s insistent nod. She took a sip of the sweet milky tea and was surprised to feel the fine trembling of her hands settle almost immediately.
‘You’re not going to work today,’ Luca said, eyeing her as he bit into a crumbly croissant.
Rilla coveted the divine-smelling pastry but doubted whether her delicate system was up to it. ‘Of course I am,’ she said, taking another nibble of toast. ‘I feel better already.’
‘You don’t want to overdo it,’ Luca lectured.
‘Luca, I could very well be sick the entire pregnancy.’ Rilla paused, horrified at the prospect. ‘I can’t take every day off work because of it. Plenty of women have to manage morning sickness with their work responsibilities. And now the NUM position is mine, I have to lead by example.’
Luca stopped chewing. ‘You got the job?’
Rilla grinned at him and nodded. ‘Yesterday was a big-news day.’
‘Oh, that’s fantastic, Rilla,’ Luca enthused. He placed the croissant back on the plate and pulled her towards him for a quick congratulatory peck on each cheek. He knew how long she’d been after that job. After the miscarriage, after they’d drifted apart, it had become her sole focus. ‘Why didn’t you say something?’
Rilla lost the thread of the conversation for a moment as her senses took leave, due to his European-style, completely asexual kiss. She blinked and picked up the thread again.
‘To be perfectly honest, I felt so rough and then with everything else that happened last night, it completely slipped my mind.’
Luca grinned back. ‘Fair enough.’
They munched at their breakfast for a few more moments. ‘Will being pregnant make a difference to getting the job?’ he asked.
Rilla shrugged. She wouldn’t have thought so but, then, she hadn’t really had a chance to consider it. ‘They’ve offered it to me. They can’t un-offer it because I’m having a baby.’
Luca nodded. He thought about how hard she’d been working the last month and felt a niggle of worry.
‘You will take it easy, wont you? The NUM job is going to be really stressful. I don’t want … I’d hate for …’ Luca struggled to find the right words without apportioning blame or placing guilt. They’d both done more than enough of that last time.
He ran a hand through his hair. ‘I don’t think I could go through another miscarriage.’
And she could? She looked into his worried gaze. ‘Working had nothing to do with last time, Luca,’ she said gently.
Neither had her insistence that she was perfectly capable of filling the car with petrol or persuading a reluctant Luca to make love just hours before she’d started cramping. But in the aftermath they’d dissected every little thing they had done and not done, searching for a meaning to it all.
And when they hadn’t been able to find one, their individual guilt had driven them apart and they’d sought solace in their work instead of each other. Maybe seven years down the track it would be possible to forgive themselves and start anew.
Rilla placed her hand over his. ‘I think it’s time we both acknowledged it was something that happened that was beyond our control. That one in four pregnancies ends that way.’
Luca looked down at her hand on his. Of course she was right. Medically, he couldn’t fault her. But a part of him, the Latin male part of him, would always feel he’d been tardy in his job to protect her. To protect his child.
He’d sworn as a boy growing up with an absent father that he would always be there for his child. And yet, when it had mattered, he hadn’t been able to protect them. He had failed.
‘I know. I was wrong to pull away from you. It was hard … harder than I ever thought. I didn’t know what to do or say to you. Work was easier,’ he admitted.
Rilla blinked, not expecting such frankness. Why hadn’t he been able to say this to her back then? When their love had still been salvageable. Seven years of silence had inflicted more damage on their relationship than frosty communication or outright war.
‘We both made mistakes, Luca,’ she sighed, releasing his hand. ‘We rushed into everything. Sex, living together, marriage. We didn’t spend time getting to know each other, building a foundation that could take such a big hit so early in the piece.’
She picked up her toast and took a few nibbles. Luca watched her as she sipped at her tea. He picked his croissant up too and then put it down uneaten, wiping the flakes off his fingers.
He cleared his throat nervously. He’d lain awake most of the night, going over and over the situation. He’d forged a plan. It was crazy and he had no idea if she’d go along with it, but if they worked at it, it could be better than it ever had been.
‘I was thinking last night … about the future … about the baby … about us.’
Rilla glanced at him warily through her fringe. Her heart did a silly flutter at his mention of ‘us’ but she paid it no heed. ‘Oh, yes?’ she said carefully.
Luca nodded and took a deep breath before he plunged on. ‘I think we should reconcile. Rip up the divorce papers.’
‘I … I beg your pardon?’ she spluttered. She must have misheard. Reconcile? This was completely out of left field.
Luca nodded, fully prepared to take advantage of her obvious shocked state to press his case. ‘Think about it. It makes sense, Rilla. You’re pregnant and we’re still married.’
‘Officially, yes,’ she said. ‘But in every other way, no.’
‘I’m not talking about going back to the way it was before. I’m talking about a platonic arrangement. Where we get to both be parents to our child without all the other stuff that made us so crazy before.’
Rilla gaped some more. Had he lost his mind? ‘Luca … this is madness.’
‘No.’ Luca rose and prowled around the room. ‘This is probably the most sensible thing we’ve ever done. Last time it was all about us. Rushing in and loving and wanting and needing and not having room for anyone or anything else. This way we start on the right foot. A focus on something else other than us. On the baby.’
‘But aren’t we just rushing into this?’ Rilla felt completely poleaxed.
‘No,’ he denied. ‘We’re just taking the first step toward the best future for our baby. It seems hasty because it’s a big step, but once we’ve made it we’ll have months to slow down and work out the details.’
‘We don’t need to reconcile to do that, Luca. We just need to commit ourselves to making the baby our priority.’
‘No!’ Luca said, immediately rejecting her suggestion. ‘I grew up with a father who was rarely around. I will not be a distant relation in my child’s life.’
Rilla heard the zeal in his voice and wanted to reach out and touch him as the shadows of his childhood haunted his gaze. She knew so little about his formative years.
‘I want to be part of my baby’s life right from the start. See it grow inside you, every day. See every change in your body, feel every kick, be there when you go into labour. And I want to live with him or her, not down the road or around the corner. Be in its life every day. I imagine you do as well.’
‘Of course,’ she agreed quickly.
‘Good, then this is the perfect