The Marriage Replay (12 page)

Finding it impossible to sit still even for a moment, Sorrel left her tea and went outside onto the terrace, to breathe in some early-morning air and watch the sun
rise—her heart was almost bursting inside her chest at the thought that she might have left everything too late to make amends….

 

Everything had happened in a kind of surreal slow motion—like one of those dreams that seemed to last for ever but in reality only lasted for two or three seconds. Checking his mirror, Reece had been about to make a left turn when—seemingly out of nowhere, from the opposite direction—a black Porsche travelling at speed had crashed head-first into the right side of his car.
Angelina's side.
Fortunately for them both, the driver of the Porsche had hit the brakes as soon as he'd seen Reece's car, and the impact had not been as terrible as it might have been. But Angelina had still been badly hurt.

Right now the opera star was undergoing an operation to mend a broken leg and arm, and had several gashes to her beautiful face. She might easily have been killed. Not for the first time that shocking early-morning Reece sent up a prayer of thanks that he'd had the foresight to hire a car which had reinforced steel side impact beams in the doors. He was amazed and astonished that he didn't have a scratch on him himself. Of course he was grateful that he wasn't hurt—that he was still alive when the story might have been so different—but it didn't help him feel any less responsible for what had happened to Angelina…

A few hours later, having seen and talked to Angelina in the recovery ward after a successful operation, and after assuring her that he would telephone the housekeeper who was taking care of Emmanuel, as well as her cousin Alberto to tell them the news, Reece procured
himself a strong cup of black coffee and was shown into the doctor on duty's office to make his phone calls in private.

It was only as he finished making both calls that he finally allowed himself to think about Sorrel. About to pick up the receiver again and dial their number, he left it untouched in its cradle. She would be asleep in all likelihood, and she needed her rest. He didn't want to disturb her with news that might make her worry. It was probably wise to just let things be until he arrived home and could tell her to her face what had happened.

 

She came rushing out into the courtyard when she saw the unfamiliar red car pull into a space in front of the house. Realising straight away that it was a mini-cab, she stood dry-mouthed as she saw Reece disembark from the passenger seat and pay the driver. As the car pulled away, she stared at his unexpectedly dishevelled appearance. The dark shadow of stubble shading his jaw provoked all kinds of unpalatable suspicions, and she felt fear and nausea slam into her stomach all at once.

‘What happened? I've been almost out of mind with worry!'

Wanting desperately to know the truth, Sorrel anxiously held back when he merely glanced at her with no emotion whatsoever, then proceeded to walk past her into the house. Her footsteps slowing, because her legs had suddenly turned as weak as water, Sorrel followed him inside. In the kitchen he poured himself a glass of water and drank deeply. As she watched his throat convulse, Sorrel stared at him in near desperation.

‘Reece? Tell me what happened? Why are you back so late? Were you with Angelina?'

‘Of course I was with Angelina! Where the hell do you think I've been?'

So he admitted it? He'd been cheating on her, just as she'd suspected, and he wasn't even bothering to deny it!

‘How could you? How could you do that to me?'

‘What?' He stared at her as if she was someone he'd never seen before. ‘What are you talking about?'

Sorrel could hardly breathe for the pain in her lungs. ‘You spent the night with Angelina. I've been going crazy with worry, and all the time you've been in bed with that woman!'

‘Where the hell did you get
that
idea?'

‘What am I supposed to think when you didn't even ring me to let me know where you were or that you'd be so late? Instead you just walk in here in the early hours of the morning, looking like some lascivious, cheating—'

‘Go on, Sorrel…why not go for the jugular? You were saying…?'

Something about the way his eyes were piercing her, and the edgy stance of his broad, hard-muscled shoulders beneath his tux, told Sorrel that something was very wrong here…and it wasn't what she thought.

‘We were in an accident.' Reece's voice was low and harsh, his green eyes regarding her icily, frighteningly bitter. ‘Another car hit us and Angelina was hurt. I've just come from the hospital…not her
bed
.'

Unable to stifle her gasp, and in spite of his austere expression, Sorrel automatically moved towards him. In response, Reece deliberately moved away from her. Trying to push aside her hurt and fear at his obvious rejection of the comfort she'd been going to extend—and
at the colossal mistake she'd made as to the reason for his lateness—she nervously crossed her arms in front of her chest instead.

‘Was she badly hurt?' she asked, small-voiced, wishing that she'd been far kinder to the other woman than she had been when she'd visited yesterday with her small son. Wishing too that she hadn't spoken in such appalling haste until she'd heard the facts.

Throwing her a look that said
What do you care?,
Reece replied, ‘She has a broken leg and arm and some cuts to her face.' His face more grim than Sorrel had ever seen it before, he unknotted his tie and discarded it on the table. ‘She certainly got more than she bargained for, going out with me last night.'

‘Oh, God—I'm so sorry! And…and what about you? Are you hurt?'

‘Not a scratch.' His mouth twisted in a black-humoured smile. ‘Guess I must have a guardian angel.'

Clearly deriving no pleasure from the thought, he rubbed a weary hand round the back of his neck.

‘I don't have time to stand here and row with you, Sorrel, so I'm warning you right now…don't even
think
about it. I don't think I can forgive you for such a
crass
insinuation, so I'm not even going to go there. I need a shower and a shave, and then I'm going to have to get to the police station to make a statement. Can you phone Ricardo and ask him if he'll come and pick me up?'

‘Of course. But—'

He raised a dark blond eyebrow in warning. ‘This conversation will have to be concluded some other time. And make no mistake…it
will
be concluded.'

Biting back her desperate need to apologise and beg his forgiveness for being so mistrustful, and her
need to get him to talk about the accident—specifically about how he felt and what could she do to help—Sorrel nodded unhappily. He had to be feeling doubly bad because he had been driving Angelina, and she instinctively knew the burden of guilt would weigh heavily on him. She so wanted to alleviate that burden if she could. She loved him. He needed to know that.

But, because he looked so utterly bleak and so worryingly uninterested in anything she might have to say other than the bare minimum, Sorrel kept quiet yet again. ‘I'll phone Ricardo right away. Why don't I make you some coffee before you go and shower? You look as though you need it.'

He stared at her as though her presence was too insignificant for him to acknowledge. ‘I don't want any coffee. I don't want anything from you, as a matter of fact. All I want you to do is make that phone call and leave everything else to me.'

When he left the room it was as though an arctic chill had blown in that would never thaw in a million years….

 

Having visited Angelina for the second time that day, and witnessed the other woman's distress—first her shock and pain at the accident, and secondly her sadness at having to get her cousin and his wife to take care of Emmanuel, when she so desperately wanted to be with her child herself—Reece couldn't help but wish he'd said no to accompanying her to the dinner they'd gone to.
If he had, then this appalling nightmare would never have happened.
And Sorrel had had no right to accuse him of infidelity when he'd never even flirted
with another woman—either in her presence or out of it—let alone slept with one!

He didn't think he could live with her suspicions or her anger towards him one more day. The car accident and the unpalatable accusations of this morning had left him feeling depleted and running on empty.
His life couldn't continue on such a soulless track.
He'd tried everything he could to get close to Sorrel, but she'd pushed him away almost at every turn.

On the drive home back to the villa, as he sat in the passenger seat beside his friend and gardener Ricardo, he already knew what he had to say to his wife. Maybe it was what she secretly wanted to hear and maybe it wasn't—either way, Reece convinced himself that ultimately it would be for her own good.

She wasn't inside the house, so Reece went in search of her out on the terrace. Lying in a sun-chair, wearing white linen shorts and an aquamarine sleeveless T-shirt, her feet bare, she looked lost in her thoughts as he arrived beside her. He was almost loath to disturb her. Telling himself that it was time he put them both out of this misery, he briefly touched her shoulder to get her attention.

When she removed her sunglasses and shielded her eyes with her hand to look up at him, the beauty of her dazzling blue gaze stirred such a torrent of longing inside Reece that he almost forgot what he'd been going to say to her.

‘You OK?'

She'd been going to ask him the same question. ‘I'm fine,' she replied warily, wondering whether the distant and frighteningly uncommunicative mood he'd been in when he'd left the house earlier had improved. She
found herself clenching her stomach muscles hard as she waited to find out. ‘Did everything go all right at the police station? How is Angelina doing?'

‘I made a statement, and fortunately for me the guy driving the car that hit us accepted full liability. Told you I had a guardian angel.' An unusually self-deprecating smile touched his otherwise serious lips. ‘As for Angelina…well, it's going to take some time for her to heal, but the doctors told me she's remarkably robust and her attitude is positive. All she can think of right now is getting back to little Emmanuel.'

A pang of kinship and compassion for the other woman vibrated through Sorrel. It was only natural that the singer's most urgent thoughts were for her child. It made her feel doubly bad that she'd been less than welcoming to her during her visit yesterday.

‘Well, I hope she can be reunited with him soon. Who's looking after him? Her housekeeper?'

‘No, her cousin and his wife. Thankfully Emmanuel knows them both quite well, so they're not exactly strangers.'

‘But it's not like being with his mum.'

‘Quite.'

Pacing a little, Reece dug his hands into his jeans pockets before turning slowly back to face Sorrel.

‘I'll be visiting Angelina in the hospital over the next few days. Her manager is flying out this afternoon to see her, and no doubt the press will be hot on her heels if they're not already. I'll help out in any way I can.'

Feeling her chest inexplicably tighten, Sorrel waited for what was coming.

‘I could come with you if you like?' she offered hopefully, wanting to distract him. ‘Maybe I could even give
Angelina's cousin a break and take care of Emmanuel for a little while?'

She would like that, she realised—the chance to get to know the little boy and maybe recompense his mother for her rudeness the other day…
not to mention her suspicions about her relationship with Reece.
But Reece was already shaking his head.

Taking his hand out of his pocket, he drove his fingers almost wearily through his dark blond hair. ‘I want you to go back to the UK, Sorrel. Our vacation is over, I'm afraid. It's probably best if you go straight back to your sister's rather than home. I don't know how long I'll be here, and at least you'll have some company if you're with Melody. Besides that, I've got stuff backing up at work I need to take care of as well.'

‘What if I don't want to go back to the UK? What if I want to stay here with you?' Knowing her voice sounded plaintive, Sorrel gripped the metal arms of the sun-chair a little too tightly. She saw him frown and take a deep breath, and her heartbeat almost came to a halt inside her chest.

‘I don't want you to stay here with me, Sorrel. Remember what I said about concluding our earlier conversation? Well, I'm concluding it with my belief that as far as our marriage is concerned it's over. We gave it our best shot and it didn't work out…end of story.'

F
EELING
every bit of hope for their shared future turn to ashes, Sorrel stared at him in utter dismay. ‘You don't mean that…you're upset over the accident, that's all. I don't want to go back home on my own, and I don't want to go to Melody's either. Now that this has happened, my place is with you.'

‘If you truly believe your place is with me, why did you walk out on me three months ago?'

Alarmed that he had brought up something that she'd believed she had already adequately explained, and that he was still clearly bearing a grudge about it, Sorrel got up from the sun-chair to face her husband. ‘I thought we'd been over all that? I told you. I left because you seemed far more interested in work than our relationship. OK, so I could have travelled with you indefinitely, but I wanted a home, Reece…a home and a family.'

There…she'd said it. Admitted that that was what she'd always hoped for with Reece. When the expression in his face didn't change or warm towards her in any way, an icy drip of fear seeped its coldness right into the very marrow of her spine.

‘When a woman falls in love with a man it's only natural that she wants to have his child,' she pressed on.
‘You were right…my heart wasn't in modelling—not one bit. It was an easy option for me, and I took it because it was there. I'm not ambitious like you are, Reece—but that doesn't make what I want wrong, does it?'

Had he ever made this woman really happy?
Studying the sadness etched into her lovely face now, Reece knew a great desire for Sorrel to find joy again—and not just joy…peace, too. But he
too
needed to find peace. She had hurt him deeply with her accusations of his infidelity with Angelina and her evident lack of trust, as well as shutting him out of her life whenever it suited her. If fate dictated that she find that happiness with someone else then so be it—it was probably for the best. Even though everything inside him reacted vehemently with protest and hurt at the idea of her loving another man…bearing another man's children…Reece would let her go.

He sighed. ‘I'm not suggesting that what you want is wrong, Sorrel. But I have to tell you that I can't deal with this ongoing misery between us any longer…
especially
since you've so clearly demonstrated that you have no trust in me whatsoever. It's better we go our separate ways and see if we can make a go of our lives either on our own or eventually perhaps with somebody else. I'd also urge you to get some help. I don't think things are going to get better for you until you do.'

‘I don't want anybody else's help but
yours
.' Barely able to speak across the tension inside her throat, Sorrel glanced at him in despair. ‘I'm truly sorry I acted so jealously, and didn't trust you with Angelina, but I acted out of insecurity about our relationship. I should have talked to you about it instead of just accusing you, but my confidence crashed after losing the baby and I
couldn't think straight. Please forgive me! I went about things completely the wrong way and I regret it. You have no idea how much I regret it!'

‘Maybe you do.' Reece's expression was strained, the pain of visiting even more distress on his wife as well as his own increasing agony cutting his heart in two. ‘You won't want for anything, I promise you. I'll make you a good settlement that will give you choices, Sorrel. You won't ever have to worry about money. Go home and stay with Melody. I don't like to think of you being alone while I'm out here dealing with all this. When I get home I'll ring you and we can meet and talk properly. OK?'

‘No, Reece. It's not OK.' Her mouth wobbled treacherously. ‘How
could
it be OK when you're planning on walking away from something that started out with so much hope?'

A flash of deep regret blazed momentarily in Reece's dark emerald gaze at her impassioned words. ‘That was
then,
Sorrel. You know as well as I do that things have changed too much for us ever to reclaim what we had when we were first together. I'm sorry, but I can't talk about it any more now. I've got Angelina to think of in hospital. Please, honey. Go home and stay with Melody. Promise me?'

Perhaps it was unreasonable of her to feel aggrieved and torn up with jealousy because he was putting a client's welfare before his wife's needs yet again—especially when Angelina had suffered an accident and was lying injured in a hospital bed—but Sorrel told herself she was only human. If Reece had accepted her offer to stay and help him deal with this thing then there would have been no need for her to feel so rejected or despair
ing.
But he'd told her that in his opinion they'd given their marriage their best shot and it hadn't worked. And now he wanted to call it a day. Just where was she supposed to go from such a heartbreaking premise?

Unable to speak because of the upsurge of pain inside her chest, Sorrel warred desperately with herself to not break down in front of him. When she knew that she was very definitely losing the battle, she turned and ran back inside the house….

 

‘So, we'll get some samples made up and take it from there. Well done, Sorrel…these are really terrific. I'm so glad you've kept working on them.'

Nina slid the drawings back into the leather-bound art portfolio and laid it on top of her desk in the back room of her exclusive boutique. For once not denying herself a deep satisfaction and sense of accomplishment at what she'd been trying so hard to achieve, Sorrel smoothed her hand down the tailored jacket of her black trouser suit and took a small sip of the tea she had almost allowed to get cold in her nervousness at Nina's expert opinion of her latest fashion drawings.

If the samples she was going to get made up caught the eye of an experienced designer, it was highly possible that—coupled with her own inside knowledge of the fashion industry from her years as a model—Sorrel was going to find herself with a brand new career. Since returning from Portugal she had worked late into the night almost every night for the past two weeks, fine-tuning and improving her designs, so the news that her diligence had been successful was nothing less than wonderful. The best news she'd heard in ages.

If only she had been able to share it with Reece it would have been all the sweeter….

 

‘Come on, guys, give Auntie Sorrel a break. You've been monopolising her all day and now it's
my
turn! Besides…it's time for bed. Pop upstairs and get ready, and I'll come and kiss you goodnight in a few minutes.'

‘Goodnight, Auntie Sorrel,' Will and Daisy intoned one after the other, and—for once not protesting—they started to gravitate towards the door.

As five-year-old Daisy yawned and rubbed her eyes, Sorrel experienced a wave of love so powerful that she had to practically sit on her hands to stop them from reaching out and pulling the child to her for another cuddle. Both children resembled a couple of golden-haired angels, and as far as Sorrel was concerned it was almost impossible to deny them anything. Consequently she had been playing games and drawing pictures with them for most of the day—and she hadn't minded a bit.

The rain had started first thing, and hadn't let up, but with Sorrel keeping the children occupied at least Melody had been able to get on and shop and cook and do all the things she needed to do on a Saturday. Now, as she called out, ‘Goodnight, darlings…I love you!' as the children left the room and trooped upstairs, Sorrel immediately felt the old emptiness inside her spread out inside her chest with a force that took her breath away.
Because she wasn't with Reece. He could have died in that car accident, and he would never have even known the depth of her love for him.
And instead of telling him how she'd felt, she'd wrongly accused him of spending the night in another woman's bed.

The thought startled her, like an old adversary she thought she'd vanquished sneaking up on her and knifing her cruelly in the ribs. He'd rung her only once in the whole fortnight she'd been with Melody, and that had been to tell her that Angelina was now out of hospital and recuperating at her villa. Her cousin Alberto and his wife were helping to take care of her and her small son. As for himself, Reece was staying on indefinitely to do some business in Lisbon and didn't know when he would be back in the UK. His voice had sounded distant in every way, and not just because he was in a different country from Sorrel.

Did he think it would make things easier for her if he maintained the aloof formality of a practical stranger when he spoke to her? Did he have no clue that he'd broken her heart into a thousand little pieces?
Pushing away the wave of despair that threatened, Sorrel reminded herself of her newfound determination to win him back. Since getting back to the UK she had paid two visits to a bereavement counsellor, enrolled in some exercise classes at Melody's local gym, and started to eat properly again. And each day she saw a distinct improvement in the gaunt face that stared back at her in the bathroom mirror. She actually had some colour in her cheeks again, and the waistbands on the skirts and trousers which had started to swim on her were once more starting to fit her properly. Coupled with her industry in working on her designs, and the success she had won because of it, her confidence and esteem were slowly but surely returning.

Any day now she was going to ring Reece and ask if they could meet. She'd already rehearsed a thousand times what she was going to say to him when she saw
him. She would leave him in no doubt that she loved him with all her heart—had never
stopped
loving him even when things were at their worst—and wanted the chance to try again. She would apologise profusely again for not trusting him, for being so stupidly jealous and insecure, when in reality he had never given her a moment's cause to act in such a manner, and she would show him that she had the strength and determination to rise above all her heartache and embrace life with both hands again. And if she
failed
to win him back, even though she told him that she loved him, then at least she wouldn't have walked away from her marriage without a fight for its survival.

Wrapped up in her thoughts, Sorrel barely noticed Melody walk in behind her until she stooped and affectionately ruffled her hair. ‘How about a gin and tonic? I'm sure you could do with one after all your hard work. I know
I
could—and I've been child-free all day, thanks to you!'

‘I'll keep you company, then…thanks.'

Sorrel's smile was genuinely warm. Her sister had been so good to her, letting her stay in her house and giving her space when she needed it, as well as encouraging her in her efforts to come to terms with her tragedy and improve her life. Not for the first time she felt immensely grateful that she had such a supportive and loving family.

‘You know…if you hadn't decided to give Britain's top designers a run for their money with those fabulous designs of yours then I'd definitely be suggesting you move in permanently as my nanny! All my children talk about is “Auntie Sorrel this…Auntie Sorrel that…” You can't put a foot wrong as far as they're concerned.'

‘What can I say except that I love kids? It's easy to make them happy. All you have to do is love them with all your heart.'

Melody went very quiet at her younger sister's words, and Sorrel was taken aback to see moisture glistening in her eyes. Ever practical, Melody was not one for frequent displays of emotion, so the sight was all the more startling.

‘You know what? One day you're going to have a houseful of wonderful children—and Will and Daisy's noses are going to be put thoroughly out of joint when you do!' she said, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

‘No, they won't. I'll always have a special place in my heart for those two. Now, how about that gin and tonic you promised me? A girl could get very thirsty waiting for service in this house!'

As Melody laughed and went to fix their drinks, for a moment or two Sorrel allowed herself to lapse into her favourite daydream of becoming a mother. And when she thought about who she wanted to be the father of that ‘houseful of wonderful children' Melody had mentioned she was in no doubt as to
exactly
who would fit the role.

 

Sitting outside in the car, Reece studied the picturesque country house, with its model sailboats in the windows and its blue and white frontage, and had to take a deep breath to bolster his courage before he got out and knocked on the door.

He should have rung first to make sure she was there.
But he hadn't been able to face returning straight away to the house in Pimlico, to feel the emptiness of the
rooms press in on him like the moving dungeon walls in those old black and white movies that threatened to crush the unfortunate victim who was trapped within them.
Which was what it would have been like without Sorrel.
He'd decided to chance his luck instead, and had driven straight to Melody's from the airport.

Now, as he flexed his fingers around the leather-covered steering wheel of his Jaguar, he told himself not to expect too much. There was no guarantee that she'd even want to speak to him. He'd been so wrapped up in his own pain that day he'd told her to go that he'd probably demonstrated about as much sensitivity towards her needs as an impervious elephant standing on a butterfly. That as soon as she'd left Portugal to fly home the truth had dawned on him with all the brutal finesse of a giant brick falling down on his head.
He was making a terrible mistake in letting her go. She meant everything to him…always had, always would.

So much had happened to prevent him from thinking clearly. First the problems within their marriage that he hadn't known how to fix, then Sorrel losing the baby, and Reece being involved in the car accident and seeing Angelina get hurt, then Sorrel's hurtful accusations about his fidelity. For a while he'd done nothing but wallow in his own misery and pain. But now his thoughts were razor-sharp. He wanted his wife back in his life for
good
.