LUKA (The Rhythm Series, Book 2) (28 page)

Sarah was smiling, her eyes filled with warmth as she watched our daughter.

“She has your appetite,” she said quietly, glancing up at me. “I’m sorry for before. I just get so scared.”

“I know. So do I.”

She blinked, surprised.

“Really? Because you always seem to know what she needs.”

I smiled, stroking the tip of my pinkie finger along Beth’s petal-soft cheek.

“She tells me. When she scrunches up her eyes, that means her diaper is full. When she flails her hands in front of her mouth, she’s hungry. When she goes red in the face and screams, she’s tired but won’t admit it, because she’s stubborn. Like her mother.”

“Like her father.”

We spoke at the same time and Sarah laughed.

“Well, one of us is right.” She paused. “Do you think she’ll be a dancer?”

“
Moja princesa
can be whatever she wants: builder, bull fighter, ballroom dancer.”

“But there’s a good chance she’ll be a dancer, don’t you think?”

I shrugged. “Maybe, I don’t know. No one else in my family dances, or in yours, I think. As long as she’s happy, I don’t care.”

Sarah sighed.

“You’re a good father, Luka.”

A slow pride filled my heart. It was the best compliment I’d ever had. I wrapped my arms around Sarah, resting my chin on her head, my new family.

She nestled into my chest as the scent of her shampoo filled my lungs. And then Beth broke wind loudly, a look of surprise on her face.

Sarah wrinkled her nose.

“I have no idea how something so small can smell so bad.”

“Aw, mommy didn’t mean it,
princesa
,” I laughed.

“I really, really did,” Sarah protested, shoving our daughter into my arms. “You can change her while I shower.”

I laughed. And it felt good.

For the rest of the morning, we began to find our rhythm. Sarah even offered to let me sleep for a couple of hours while she and Beth watched TV. I was so exhausted, I didn’t even bother to undress. I just crawled under Sarah’s duvet and passed out.

Less than an hour later, I jolted awake, Beth’s shrill screams acting like a cattle prod. Sarah burst into the bedroom, holding a red-faced, screeching bundle.

“She won’t stop!” she snapped, holding Beth at arms’ length.

I winced as the volume increased, but held her against my chest, cringing as spit-up flowed over my shirt.

Beth’s crying quietened quickly.

“I guess she felt sick,” I sighed.

I rubbed her back as she burped up more air and half-digested formula.

Sarah just stared at me. “I didn’t know. Why didn’t I know?”

I phrased my answer as carefully as possible. “It just takes time.”

She bristled immediately.

“Are you saying I haven’t spent enough time with her?”

“No, I’m just saying . . .”
Fuck, that was exactly what I was saying.
“It’ll take time.”

She stared at me for a few seconds, weighing my words in case she wanted to toss them back at me.

“I’m going to get changed. The cab will be here in an hour.”

She flounced out of the room and I lay backwards with a curse. I’d really have to stop doing that around Beth. I frowned, realizing that I had no clue when she’d start to pick up language. I decided I’d talk to her more in Slovene. It would be cool that she’d be bilingual, too.

And maybe a small part of me wanted to have something with Beth that Sarah wouldn’t.

I know. What a bastard.

Beth lay quietly across my heart, the other side of my t-shirt covered in baby vomit. Funny—I thought I’d mind more.

Eventually, I dragged myself out of bed and ran a bath for Beth in a tiny plastic tub we stored under the kitchen sink. It was one of my favorite things to do, but no one told me how slippery wet babies are. We’d had a few near misses when she slipped under the water for a second and blew bubbles at me. Luckily her dad has skillful hands, or so I’ve been told.

Sarah took forever getting ready, which left me with a cozy 10 minutes to shower again and get ready for the New Year’s lunch party we’d been invited to. Some friends of Sarah’s. She said I didn’t know them, but the big news was that her ex, James, was going to be there. I hadn’t decided how I felt about that. I guess I’d see how they were with each other.

I should care more, but I was too damn tired.

The cab arrived as the sun came out, and we piled in the back with Beth’s enormous diaper bag, enough formula for two days and a whole load of other shit that Sarah said we needed. I’d already learned not to argue about that. I think it made her feel more secure. Or maybe we really needed it.
God, my brain was tired.

Sarah’s friends lived in a narrow redbrick attached house, like a million others in London, with a small yard at the front, and a bigger one at the rear backing onto the railway line. It looked ordinary outside, but inside it was a designer’s wet dream. They definitely didn’t have kids.

A woman in a festive red dress hugged Sarah and smiled at me as she ushered us in.

I wondered what she saw when she looked at us: from the right angle, we were just another set of new parents enjoying the winter sunshine.

I got kind of lost in the introductions with everyone crowding around to see Beth, and Sarah was enjoying the attention, so I dumped the diaper bag and wandered inside to look for a drink. It would be the first I’d had since Beth came home, but I’d better keep it in check, or I’d probably fall asleep.

“Well, well! If it isn’t the little Euro twink.”

I turned around slowly and saw Seth’s bitchy friend Julian smiling at me coldly.

“What the fuck do you want?” I said rudely.

“My, my! Touchy, aren’t we? I thought you and Seth hit the rocks. So who are you with today? Working your way through his friends?”

It was exactly what I’d feared from the moment Seth refused to tell Sarah about us. And looking into Julian’s eyes glittering maliciously, I knew I had to get Sarah out of there before . . .

“Oh my God! You’re the one they’ve all been talking about!” he screeched, his eyes widening with vindictive delight. “Baby-daddy to Sarah’s little sprog!” He grinned at me. “It’s all a bit ‘Desperate Housewives’, isn’t it? The brother then the sister. Or was it the other way around? Maybe it’s a specialty of yours, keeping it in the family?”

I wanted to punch the smug grin off his face, but right now I needed him to keep his mouth shut.

“Julian, I know you don’t like me, although I have no idea why . . .”

“Wrong. I
hate
guys like you. You use your pretty face to get whatever you want and you don’t give a shit who gets hurt in the process. I despise your kind.”

I coughed out a short laugh. He was so very far from being right.

“Is that what you think? Because it was so much fun at school being bullied for dancing by older kids, being hit on by older guys when I didn’t know what the fuck anything meant. My parents grew up under Communist rule: they were scared of everything. Scared to say what they thought, scared of anything that was ‘different’. Being bi didn’t go down so well.”

He looked surprised for a second, then his expression clouded over again.

“Huh, it’s a pity you forgot to tell Seth that you were bi.”

“He knew,” I said grimly. “He knew but he didn’t want anyone else to. I was just his sordid little secret after all.”

My voice was bitter, and Julian fell silent.

“Look, whatever you think of me, for God’s sake, please don’t tell Sarah about me and Seth.”

“What about you and Seth?” came Sarah’s strained voice from behind me.

All the blood drained from my face as Julian gasped and quickly disappeared from the room.

“What about you and Seth?!” Sarah’s voice rose sharply, and Beth squirmed in her arms.

“Can we talk about this later?” I asked desperately, seeing the inquisitive glances people were throwing our way.

Not that I cared about them, but Sarah would.

“No, I think now would be a really good time.”

Beth’s crying increased with her mother’s anger.

I grabbed Sarah’s elbow and pulled her through a doorway into another room.

I glanced around a utility room crowded with dirty boots, washing machine and clothes dryer. The truth was going to come out. And I knew . . . I knew Sarah would never forgive this betrayal.

“Well?”

I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. My heartrate had shot up and I was starting to sweat.
This was going to be ugly.

“I dated Seth. While you were in Australia.”

Her eyes grew round, pain and shock warring for dominance.

“You . . . dated my brother? What does that mean—you
dated
him?”

“It means we . . . hung out, went on dates . . . I don’t know,
dated
.”

She blinked rapidly, her forehead wrinkled with an intense frown of concentration.

“You dated,” she repeated softly.

“Yes, we . . .”

“Oh no! It was him! He was the one . . . the one you were serious about!” She took a shuddering breath. “How long?”

“Does it matter?” I begged, not wanting her to hurt anymore, not wanting to see the pain in her beautiful eyes.

“Yes, it fucking matters!” she hissed at me.

“A few . . . weeks.”
Months.

“Are you still seeing him? Are you seeing my brother behind my back?!”

“No, God no. It wasn’t like that.”

“I’d really like to know exactly what it was like!”

No, you wouldn’t, not when I was in lo—

“We met at that party you told me to go to. In the note. I didn’t know he was your brother.”

“How could you not know?” she cried out, her voice loud with disbelief.

“Because we didn’t do a lot of talking,” I bit out, angry and ashamed.

Her cheeks flushed.

“Oh my God, I can’t believe this. I can’t believe this!” She took a gulping breath of air. “I can’t . . . I can’t . . . You’ve had
sex
with my brother? You’ve been in a bed with my brother and . . .”

Yes, and it was fantastic.

I nodded.

She pushed Beth toward me and put her hands over her mouth, her skin ashen.

“I’m going to be sick.”

“Sarah, please! We can work this out! We can . . .”

“How? How exactly do you see this working out?” she screamed. “I get you Monday, Wednesday and Friday? And Seth gets you Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday? Oh, wait, no: Monday is your day off. Is that how you see it working? Is it?”

“Fuck’s sake, Sarah! No!”

“Oh, I don’t know, Luka, it sounds very sensible to me. We’re all
family
, right?”

Her words punched me full force, and then I saw her outrage and anger crumble to pain.

“All this time! All this time, and you didn’t tell me.
He
didn’t tell me. Why? Why didn’t anyone tell me the truth?”

“I’m sorry,” I repeated helplessly.

“Do . . . do you. . . . do you
love
him?” she whispered.

“I love
you
. Please, Sarah! We can be together—a real family: you, me and Beth. We’re going to get married and all this . . . it doesn’t matter.”

She shook her head as the tears flowed, Beth’s worried shrieks piercing every sentence.

“Then why don’t I believe you?” she gasped. “How do I know you love me? You’re not
in love
with me. I can see it in your eyes. I’ve been lying to myself, wanting to believe it’s true. But all that time, all those months . . . oh my God! What am I supposed to think now?”

Beth’s screams became louder as Sarah’s anguish increased.

“Don’t . . . just . . . I know this is a shock. I wanted to tell you, but we thought . . .”

“What? You . . . you
discussed
me with my own brother!”

“It wasn’t like that! When we found out you were pregnant, he said . . . we just thought it was better . . . there was Beth to think about, and . . .”

“Oh, God! Why now, Luka? Why?”

“Julian . . .”

Her eyes grew round.

“Oh my God! Who else knows?”

“Seth’s friends,” I admitted, my voice strangled.

She swallowed several times. “Who, exactly?”

I listed the names of all the people I’d met when I was dating Seth, the words falling, leaping, somersaulting from my tongue, as if the faster I said it, the less it would hurt.

With each name, she grew paler and paler.

“Is . . . is that everyone?” she whispered. “Luka?”

“Your mother. She knew.”

“
Mum
knew?”

“She . . . she guessed. The day you introduced us.”

“Oh, my God! This is just . . . do you care about him?” she stuttered. “Do you love Seth?”

“Sarah, don’t do this! I love
you!
You’re my best friend!” I took a step toward her. “We can be a family.”

Her face crumpled with disgust and defeat.

“You think I’d let you touch me after . . . that? It’s so . . . wrong. I can’t believe this. I can’t!”

She rushed out of the room, tears streaking her face. I felt stunned, drained, appalled by what I’d done to her. I stayed in the utility room, rocking Beth and talking to her quietly, hoping she’d stop screaming. It was twenty minutes before we were both calm enough to search for Sarah.

“Sorry, mate,” said the guy whose house we were in. “She left a little while ago. James drove her home.”

The ex?

“
Sranje!
I’d better go after her. I’ll call a cab. I’m sorry about your party.”

He shook his head, smiling sadly. “No worries. I hope you sort it out.”

You wouldn’t say that if you knew what we were arguing about
.

I had to wait half-an-hour for a cab, and when I got back to the apartment, Sarah had already been there, emptying the wardrobe of her clothes.

She didn’t leave a note.