Having the Frenchman's Baby - Page 63

He leaned against the door. “At Paulette’s six-months check-up, the doctor couldn’t find a heartbeat.”

A compassionate cry escaped Rachel’s throat despite her anger at him.

“Miscarriages happen. Yves’ wife had one. My mother had two. I was devastated, but the doctor assured us she could have another baby.

“Paulette was inconsolable; I knew it was natural for her to feel that way. Her hormones had put her in a severe depression.

“I did everything I could to bring her out of it. A few months later I took her on a cruise, hoping to get her pregnant again. To my shock, she asked me not to touch her.”

Rachel’s hands went to the sides of her chair, as if bracing herself.

“I realized she was still grieving for our unborn child. So I left her alone, hoping time would heal the worst of her pain.

“Six months to the day the baby died, she said she wanted a divorce.

“I consulted a psychiatrist. He said she had an irrational fear of getting pregnant again and then losing it. If she would let him, he could help her. But she had become so emotionally disturbed, she wouldn’t hear of it and moved home with her family.”

Rachel jumped up from the chair. “I don’t think I want to hear any more.”

“I’m almost through. At first I fought our separation, but Yves talked me into going along with it. He was convinced that in time she’d get over the worst of the loss and want to get back with me.

“I wanted to believe it, so I agreed. To make things easier all the way around, I gave her the house I’d bought for us, and I moved in with my family.

“Two days after our divorce was final, she was involved in a car accident. When I was told she was lying unconscious in the hospital, a new nightmare beg

an.”

Rachel refused to look at him. “I can’t imagine how you’ve managed to make it through life this long.

“Go back to her bedside, Luc. I’m going to my grandfather’s.”

He put a hand on her arm. “Is he worse?”

Her lower lip trembled, the first sign to let him know she was barely holding on.

“This morning Dr Lloyd admitted he’s dying.” There was a brief pause. “Unlike Paulette who could possibly wake up from her coma, there’s no such hope for Grandfather.”

“I’m sorry, Rachel,” he whispered. “I know how much you love him. I’ll drive you to his house.”

“No.” She pulled her arm out of his grasp. “This is goodbye, Luc. To borrow an expression your mother used with me, ‘Adieu’.”

Luc had no choice but to let her disappear out the door.

Until now he hadn’t realized the depth of the damage he’d done.

By waiting to tell her about Paulette until after he’d come home with groceries that day, he’d given his mother the perfect opportunity to vent her pain in a way that had broken something inside Rachel.

Unfortunately she’d come home to another nightmare.

Much as he wanted to go after her, he would have to wait until her grandfather had passed away and she’d managed to work through some of her grief.

CHAPTER EIGHT

RACHEL slipped out the rear door of the restaurant where deliveries were made. At the end of the alley she hailed a taxi and went straight to her grandfather’s.

Finding Luc in her office had shocked her so much, she’d had to get out of there.

Hearing about the loss of their baby and Paulette’s tragic situation had turned Rachel inside out.

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