Page 12 of Breathe Me: Smith & Belle

“I grew up in the countryside,” I reminded him. “I can do all the important trappings of the wealthy country types: stalk deer and walk dogs and even feed chickens.”

“So, is that what you’re up to all the way out there?”

“Come visit and find out,” I said. I’d been trying to tempt him to come with us to Sussex since this whole mess happened.

“I was thinking about going away,” he said, shrugging a single shoulder like he couldn’t be bothered to do more than think.”

“To Sussex?” I pressed.

“Somewhere warmer.” He stopped in front of a display of winter scarves and gloves. “I don’t think I want to deal with winter in England this year.”

“But you’ll be here for Christmas?” I asked in a soft voice.

“I don’t know. I find I don’t really feel like celebrating this year.” He fingered the rough edge of a Burberry scarf. “It would be our anniversary, you know.”

“I know. I don’t think you should be alone.”

Edward licked his lower lip, and I found myself wishing I could see his eyes. The last thing he needed was to be alone on his first anniversary. But was spending it with me, my husband and our daughter going to be better? Or just a painful reminder of what he’d lost?

“I thought I’d find a beach somewhere with cold drinks and hot men. Who says I have to be alone for Christmas? I’m not the only single gay man in the world.” His lips quirked into a lopsided grin that was too forced to be believable.

As long as the wound was open, I might as well pour all the salt in with one go. “Clara wants to have lunch.”

“Tell her I said hello,” he murmured.

“She wants you to come.”

“I’m not going there. Wherever she is...he is.”

I didn’t have to ask what he meant. Alexander and Clara had a tendency to orbit one another since they met. That had only gotten worse given everything they went through. “I’m sure we can arrange it, so that he stays away. Don’t you want to see Wills?”

“Does it make me a bad person if I say no?” he asked in a hollow voice. “I don’t want to hate her, but I can’t seem to…”

Forgive her. “She didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I know.” He nodded his head before allowing it to hang forward. “But trying to reason with the heart is about as effective as arguing with a table. It can’t be done. I just need time.”

“Then that’s what I’ll tell her,” I said simply. It hurt to see him go through this. It hurt to watch Clara blame herself. But sometimes the only thing that healed wounds was time.

“Belle,” he said tentatively, lowering his sunglasses to stare at me from red-rimmed eyes, “don’t tell her that I hate her. I don’t really…”

“I won’t,” I promised him, wrapping him in another hug only to feel the baby kick hard.

Edward pulled back, his glasses still pushed low on his nose and his eyes wide. “Was that?”

“Yep,” I said with a laugh. “She’s growing quite demanding.”

“I warned you about squishing Mini-Belle,” he said with a laugh that lifted some of the weight from the air around us. “If you aren’t careful, she’ll be forced to come out here and tell you off.”

“Promise?” I groaned. My due date was only two days away and there was no end in sight.

“If she’s anything like her mother, she’ll show up when she damn well pleases,” Edward teased. We rounded a corner and nearly ran into a Christmas tree trimmed with artisan, blown glass ornaments. His good mood evaporated. Maybe shopping wasn’t such a good idea, after all. I could get presents later or place an order. Right now, he needed me more than anyone else in my life might need a gift weeks from now.

“Are you hungry?” I blurted out, steering him clear of the reminder of the impending holidays.

“I could eat, but only if it’s something full of carbs that will make me emotionally numb,” he demanded.

“I think we can make that happen.” It wasn’t much. Maybe it was all I could do: try to be there when he needed to fall apart. Maybe that’s all anyone can do when dealing with a broken heart.