rest. Whatever the doctors had given me to counteract the effects of the sedative was coursing through my veins making me feel as though sleep was nothing more than a state of mind.
I had so much energy I wanted to bound out of the bed…
Pressing my hand against my belly I willed the baby to move, to give me even the smallest indication that she was safe, that she would be all right.
But there was nothing.
I listened to David leaving the room and bit back a sob.
It was easy to pretend to be strong when he was holding my hand, I could feel his strength pouring from him and into me but once I was on my own again, my hand pressed to my belly and no sign of life from the baby…
Tears coursed down my cheeks as I curled into a ball.
I needed to believe she would be all right, I needed to believe in her.
But after everything I’d witnessed, after everything I’d been through. Believing in things I couldn’t see was getting harder with every passing moment.
14
B eing allowed out of the hospital was both a blessing and a curse. I hated being trapped in the room, staring at the same four white walls all day depressed me and all I could think about was the fact that I wanted to make the Banks pay.
The doctors had run all the tests they could and as far as they could tell the baby would be fine but I still wasn’t convinced.
She hadn’t moved, or at least I hadn’t felt her move and no amount of them trying to convince me would tell me otherwise.
The flight home had been uneventful and as the car pulled up in front of the house I stared out the window at a place that felt alien to me.
I was lost.
How was I supposed to just carry on after everything that had happened? I’d killed a man, he’d deserved it and it was self-defence but I’d still taken a life.
Sleep was an elusive pleasure and no matter how much I wanted to just slip into oblivion the thoughts in my head wouldn’t let me.
“Carrie, we’re here…” David said, his voice soft.
He could tell there was something wrong but no matter how many times he asked me to share the problem with him, I just couldn’t bring myself to open up.
How could I?
He said he didn’t see me differently, that no matter what had happened he still loved me but I couldn’t bring myself to believe him.
How could he love me the way he had before any of this had happened?
He blamed himself for what had gone down and I couldn’t fix those feelings for him or take away the guilt he felt, anymore than he could do the same for me.
We were adrift and I knew who was to blame.
The only problem was I couldn’t get to them, I couldn’t make them pay for the holes they’d poked in my perfect life.
For the damage they’d inflicted.
David opened the car door and held his hand out to me. I took it, his warm strong fingers curling around mine as he helped me to step out onto the gravel drive.
Ever since I’d returned my instinct had been to pull away every time David tried to get close to me and this was no different.
Taking my hand back, I curled my fingers into a fist, the warm imprint of David’s hand lingered against my skin and I cradled it as though it were something precious.
And it was precious.
I didn’t want to be like this, I didn’t want to be distant and cold all the time. I wanted nothing more than to throw myself into his arms and feel him wrap his body around mine.
But how could I do that? How could I just pretend everything was fine when it really wasn’t?
I didn’t wait for him, my stride carrying me up the steps and into the house.
Familiarity washed around me and all I wanted to do was turn tail and run back out the door again.
But something stopped me.
His pitiful cry tearing at the very core of my being and my heart started to gallop against my ribcage.
I felt as though I hadn’t seen him in years, hadn’t felt his warm body against mine as I cradled him to my chest, when in reality it was only a few days.
Racing for the stairs, the
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