* * *
Kim forced herself to wait it out. She waited and waited, but in the end she was the one who broke first.
“What is it you want, Rohan?” she demanded. Frustration and a fear of waking Zoe turned her voice tight and shrill in a way she hated. “Do you want to take a test or something?”
“Kim.” Her husband leaned against the lounge room doorway, arms folded, his gaze steady. “Why would you even suggest that?”
Jesus, he knew exactly why, Kim thought as she lowered herself carefully onto the sofa. It was so late in the evening and she was so tired. Zoe had been screaming all day and finally, after literal hours of rocking and cajoling, had cried herself to sleep on Kim’s chest. Kim held her now, barely daring to move.
Outside in the driveway, the car was partially packed up. They were due to drive to Marralee the next day. Rohan’s dad was ill, and his parents wanted to see the baby. Rohan had been worried about his dad’s recent tests, Kim knew that. And she wanted to be understanding. But seriously? Enough. Her energy was sapped, her baby was relentless, her husband was behaving as though she’d done something she simply would never do, and sitting there, shaking with exhaustion, Kim had suddenly had it with this shit.
“You’re right,” she snapped in a harsh whisper. “Why would I even suggest that?”
“I have absolutely no idea.”
Kim looked at Rohan, and in that moment she hated him. His calm stillness—the very quality that she had once absolutely loved about him—had eroded since Zoe’s birth into something so brooding and distant. He would disappear into himself, thinking about—what? Kim couldn’t guess.
It hadn’t been like this with Charlie. When they fell out, it was robust, but it was fair. They made their points, tussled a little on the finer details, then they got on with things. It wasn’t ideal, granted, but it was a lot better than this hard, glinting silence.
She stared at Rohan, daring him to be honest with her.
“Rohan.” Kim gave in first. “I’m only going to say this once. Ever. Zoe is your daughter.”
His face flickered. A fresh cold thread slid straight down Kim’s spine. Oh my God. He didn’t believe her. This wasn’t silly troublemaking brought on by new-parent jealousy or fatigue. He truly did not believe her. Rohan actually thought this baby could be Charlie’s.
“Rohan—” Kim tried, with urgency this time. She hadn’t taken this anywhere near seriously enough, she was realizing too late.
“Why would you feel the need to say that, Kim?” He cut her off, outwardly unruffled in a way that instantly set her further on edge.
She shifted, and Zoe stirred. Kim froze and held her breath, letting it out in a whisper. “Because you—”
“I what? Kim?” Rohan’s own voice was oddly light. “Why are you saying this? I trust you. It’s not like you’re the type to get blackout drunk and go off with some bloke you can’t remember.”
Sitting in her comfortable living room, holding her warm baby, Kim felt it. Right then, without warning but so brutally familiar. Her heart pounding, the adrenaline prickling. She stared at her husband.
“What are you talking about?”
He shrugged. Picked up a baby blanket that they’d chosen together and folded it neatly into quarters. “You know, Kim.”
She did. Of course she did. But it was so out of context she felt breathless, like she’d been slapped. “Down at the reservoir, you mean? The party?”
Something in her voice alerted him then. Rohan didn’t react, but Kim could feel it. He’d overstepped a line that until now hadn’t even existed between them.
“Yeah.” His tone hovered somewhere around apologetic. “I guess that’s what I mean.”
“How do you even know about that?”
Rohan put the baby blanket down. He lifted his head until his eyes met hers. “Charlie told me.”
She held his gaze. “Charlie did?”
“Yeah. I’m really sorry, Kim. Look, obviously, he shouldn’t have. But you know what he’s like. Big mouth, can’t keep it shut. You can’t trust him with anything.”
Kim looked across the room at her husband, still watching her from the doorway. She breathed in through her nose, and then out. She leaned a little deeper into the sofa cushions. She felt the weight of her baby against her chest. She nodded her head, up and down. She swallowed lightly, and then drew together every thread of strength and focus and concentration she could find to form two words.
“That’s true.”
But it wasn’t true. And Charlie didn’t know.
* * *
Kim stayed up on the couch all night, holding Zoe. Rohan had finally gone to bed, only to get up again at 2:00 a.m. and come through.
“Do you want me to take over?” His voice was kind and conciliatory. She suspected he hadn’t been asleep.
Kim shook her head. “No. Thank you, though.” She hesitated. “Can you please pass me my phone?”
It was charging on the bedside table in their room.
Rohan also hesitated. “Sure. It’s kind of late.”
“I want to text Zara before I forget. To arrange to drop off her birthday present.”
“Okay. Whatever you need.”
He’d gone to get the phone. Then he sat on the arm of the sofa and waited, rubbing his tired eyes and yawning. Able to see Kim’s screen. Kim had faltered, her baby on her chest, her caesarean wound still knitting together, her husband sitting patiently at her side. Finally, she texted Zara. She and Zoe would like to come to the vineyard to drop off her birthday present that evening.
When she’d finished, Rohan held out his hand.
“It’s not at full battery. I’ll put it back on the charger for you.” He glanced at the message as she passed it over and said lightly, “I’m not sure tonight’s going to work. I’m meeting my parents.”
“That’s okay.” Kim made her tone match his. “I can go on my own.”
“I don’t know.” He smiled at her. This was a version of Rohan that she knew well. Rohan the peacekeeper, the patient stepfather, the family man. “We missed Zara’s real birthday. I think I’d like to be there, too.” Rohan the decision-maker.
Kim sat awake for the rest of the night. By the time morning dawned, her husband had been thinking.
“Maybe we should give Marralee a miss,” he said over breakfast. “You’re tired. I’m tired. The trip might be a bit much.”
“We have to go.” Kim looked him in the eye. God, this dance was excruciating. Her phone was no longer in the bedroom. She’d seen Rohan carry it outside along with an armful of baby supplies and she could picture it in the locked car, placed carefully in the central console along with a bottle of water and some snacks and spare diapers. “What about your dad?” she tried. “His test results?”
“Dad wouldn’t want to make things difficult for you.”
“Rohan.” Kim played her best and last card. “Everyone’s expecting us. They all want to see Zoe. If we don’t go, they’ll be worried. They’ll come to us.”
She was right, and he knew it. He took his time, though, cleaning out the fridge and taking out the rubbish and packing the final bags and securing the house, and Kim waited, holding her baby, until at last he had run out of jobs. He unlocked the car. It was time to drive home.