She knew this was no longer the right home for her, or a baby, so where did that leave her and Tom? She’d sold her own apartment, and the new buyers would move in soon. There was hardly enough space in Tom’s compact house for two people to live there, never mind with a baby.
Sitting down heavily on the bed, Carla wrung her hands together. Her insides churned as she waited for Tom to arrive. If he told her they were over, confirmed they weren’t compatible, she felt like she might crumble into a pile of dust. She had so much explaining to do it made her head spin, and she still hadn’t told him the date of Bertrand’s funeral yet.
When she heard his keys rattle in the front door, she sat up with her back straight and stiff, listening for his footsteps on the stairs. Each creak made her heart pound faster.
Carla held her breath as the bedroom door opened, and then there he was, her fiancé, her friend and the father of her child. “Tom.”
He looked both familiar and like a stranger, with a hint of a tan, stubble on his chin and purple semicircles under his eyes. His arms hung by his sides, and a small black gift bag hung from one finger. “I stopped at your gran’s place first, to drop off a sympathy card for Evelyn. It’s so awful about her fiancé. I’m so very sorry,” he said. “It’s nice your family have gathered around to look after her. This gift had arrived for you, and I said I’d bring it here.”
“It doesn’t look like a wedding present,” Carla observed.
“That’s what I thought, too.” Tom set it down next to her on the bed.
She hoped that he’d join her, really needing a hug from him. Instead, he retreated and leaned a shoulder against the door frame.
“How was your journey home?” she asked him.
“It took a long time, eighteen hours from door to door.” Tom turned his head, so he wasn’t looking at her. His mouth was set hard and he rubbed his nose as if summoning up the courage to tell her something. “I’ve been thinking it doesn’t feel right to go ahead with our wedding after your aunt’s loss,” he said, getting straight to the point. “It feels like yet another thing telling us not to go ahead.”
Although Carla knew he was right, she still felt like she had a rock lodged in her throat. It hurt when she tried to swallow, and she didn’t even have the strength to nod her head. “Did gran mention the funeral date to you?”
“No,” he said with suspicion in his voice. “Why?”
Carla sighed. “Evelyn arranged it to take place on our wedding day. She was in such shock she didn’t realize the date at the time. Mimi tried to change it, but...” There was no point telling Tom about the option of postponing it for a week when the decision had already been made.
“Well, that’s the final nail in the coffin for our wedding day,” he said. Then his grim expression turned to one of horror. “Sorry, I didn’t intend that terrible pun.”
“It’s okay.”
“So, it’s definitely off?” He hung his head.
“Yes. Sorry.”
“Me, too.”
For a while the only sound in the room was their breathing.
Eventually, Tom lifted his chin. “Perhaps Evelyn can use our wedding reception as a wake for Bertrand. We’ve ordered and paid for all that lovely food and it’d be a shame for it to go to waste.”
Carla’s belly plunged even further. In the back of her mind, she’d hoped there’d be another way forward for her and Tom, even if she didn’t know what it might be. “That’s a thoughtful idea. Thank you. If Evelyn’s fine with that, I’ll get in touch with the caterers to see if they can offer a buffet rather than a sit-down meal. I’ll need to cancel the silver balloons, too.” She tried to think of other things she needed to do but her brain felt like it was filled with soup.
Tom looked up at the light fixture, a simple glass dome, and Carla noticed a cobweb drifting from it, long and fragile.
“Everything’s stacked against us,” he said. “Our match on Logical Love was wrong, you’ve been running around after your exes, and now this.” He slid down the wall and sat on the carpet with his legs stretched out in front of him. “My parents are arriving later today. I’m going to pick them up from the airport.”
Carla looked up. “Oh, I could—” She started to offer to join him, but Tom shook his head.
“It’s fine. I’ll get them. I’ve not seen them for a few months and it will be nice to catch up...”
Without you. She could tell he’d left those words off the end of his sentence, and they were noticeable in their absence.
“I’m not looking forward to telling them about all this,” he added.
“Have you told them about the baby?”
His eyes lifted for the briefest moment. “Not yet. I wanted to talk to you about things first. It’s probably best to tell them our wedding is off first and let that sink in. I’ll let everything settle for a while.”
Settle, Carla thought, picturing how pith floated in homemade lemonade. It never vanished. It only sank. “I’ve made an appointment for a scan,” she said. “The week after the funeral.”
Tom’s eyebrows knitted. “I’ve really hated the thought of you being alone and pregnant, overseas.”
“Mum’s friend Babs and her partner, Diego, were with me some of the time. It wasn’t the same as being with you, though. I’ve missed you a lot.”
She waited for him to say the same thing back, but he only nodded. Don’t push him too much, she told herself. Carla started to chatter, her words running away to fill their silence, about Babs and Diego and how they’d flown here for the wedding. She took a deep breath before telling Tom the story of how she’d discovered Diego was her father.
“Gosh, I’m so pleased for you,” he said, visibly surprised. He moved a little, as if he was going to cross the room, but then he stayed put.
“It’s great, but we’ve missed out on being part of each other’s lives for four decades. We have lots of catching up to do, and Babs looked very upset by the revelation. I hope they can work things out. There’s so much love between them.” Carla hoped he’d get her hint and she worked her jaw until it cracked. She had to at least try to explain her whole overseas quest to Tom. “I told you about Myrtle’s prediction, about how someone important I met during my gap year was waiting for me overseas?”
He sighed and nodded.
“I thought it might be an ex, but it was Diego.”
Tom glanced at her with cool eyes that she couldn’t read. “Carla, I’m really too tired to dissect all this. Marriage is based on trust, and I didn’t expect your ex-husband to answer your phone, in Paris.”
His words stung her. “Sara answered yours...”
“It’s really not the same.”
