The Wallflowers To Wives Collection

‘Once, twice, forty times, it doesn’t matter. I bet he never once used any kind of protection. You could be carrying his child.’

Her initial reaction was one of betrayal. She was dying inside. She wanted empathy at the least. ‘I didn’t expect this from you, Bea. Of all people, I thought you would respect my decision. You, who won’t marry the father of your child unless he truly loves you. You are hardly in a position to argue that principles be thrown out the window.’

Beatrice’s eyes narrowed. ‘My man isn’t here offering for me. It’s far easier for me to cling to those principles when that’s all I have. But they are cold comfort, Claire. Trust me.’ She sighed, her eyes sparkling suspiciously as her tone softened. She squeezed Claire’s hand. ‘I am so sorry. I wouldn’t hurt you for the world. This is all my fault. I should not have started this. You didn’t want to do it and I pushed you towards it. I meddled where I ought not.’

Her anger at Bea evaporated, replaced by a fierce, protective love of her friend. She couldn’t have Bea believing she’d failed. ‘Don’t say that. Whatever happens, it was worth it. I fell in love and I found myself. Bea, you were right all along. It took Jonathon to make me see it. I’d become lost. But now I know I’m worth fighting for, even if the warrior who does the fighting is me.’ She leaned over and kissed Bea on the cheek. ‘I will never forget what you’ve done for me. You gave me the push I needed.’

Bea offered a tremulous smile. ‘I just hope it isn’t a push over a cliff.’

‘It’s not. Now, let’s go see what Evie has pulled out of my wardrobe.’

She and Bea walked over to join the others. There was no time like the present to start facing her future. Claire smiled as Evie pulled out a few dresses. She would have to get used to this: smiling on the outside, convincing others she was coping, even recovering, while on the inside she was empty.

According to Evie, the future wore chocolate silk. If the future couldn’t be decadent, it could at least look delicious, but deep in her heart, Claire knew it would always be dark. Dark and empty.

No, maybe not empty, not yet. Maybe emptiness would come later. For now, she hurt. Pain wasn’t emptiness. Pain was something. Some day the pain would leave her, but she was in no hurry for it to go. When she stopped remembering, then Jonathon would truly be gone. Until that happened, the pain was a way to hold on to him for a little while longer. Ah, fabulous. She’d become a masochist.