Free Miracle In March by Juliet Madison Page A

there, had never been brave enough to delete it. Would he still have the same number from over five years ago?
    Her gaze hovered over his name: James Gallagher.
    She focused on each letter intently until they no longer resembled a name or a word, until they held no meaning, just like she’d done back then to try and forget him. But as soon as her focus returned it was there again.
    James Gallagher.
    The man she’d once thought she’d be with for life. Even though their relationship had been short, it had been intense and wonderful. The man who had been filled with hopes and dreams for his life, and who now barely resembled the guy she fell in love with. Did she do that to him?
    She shuddered. She thought she’d be helping him by leaving, but did it really turn out that way? He’d said Jackson was four and a half, which meant whoever the child’s mother was, he’d hooked up with her not long after Emma had left him. Was his son the result of a rebound fling? And where was the mother now?
    Emma realised that even though James was the one who needed answers the most, she needed them too. She took a deep breath and pressed ‘text message’, then typed:
    James, is this still your number? It’s Emma.
    Her heart pounded as she waited, and waited, and waited. Had he looked at it and was wondering whether to ignore her? Or did the number now belong to someone else?
    She put the phone in her pocket and poured a glass of water, though she probably needed wine. As she brought the glass to her lips her phone beeped and vibrated and she jumped, spilling some water on the table.
    Yes it’s me. Why?
    She typed back:
    I’m ready to tell you. Can we meet?
    Waiting again, she thought he’d decided not to reply, but he did:
    I’ll wait outside the cabin.
    * * *
    Emma slipped on her runners and locked up, sliding the phone and keys into her pocket. The park was quiet, serene, but it was about to get an injection of tension and who knew what else. She had no idea how he’d react. She didn’t care that her hair was still wet or that she had no make-up on, she was simply going to tell him the truth, then leave. Again.
    She made her way around the meandering concrete pathway at the back that weaved between cabins and gardens, the sounds of late night television and chatter filtering through the walls of the cabins. The constant whoosh of the ocean muffled the beating of her heart, and served to remind her that no matter what happened, life moved on. Things didn’t stop for anyone. The ocean would be as ever-present as it had always been, and it gave her a sense of comfort that some things, at least, never changed.
    Rounding the corner, she walked up to the back of cabin number one, where only a dim light shone through the closed curtains of the main bedroom. James’ bedroom, no doubt, unless Jackson had bagsed it and left his father to sleep in the single bed of the kids’ room. James would do something like that, she was sure of it. He would make a sacrifice, no matter how small, for someone else. And that was one of the reasons she’d done what she’d done. She hadn’t wanted him to sacrifice anything for her back then, but he would have. If she’d let him.
    Emma edged around to the side of the cabin, dark except for the hint of moonlight skidding off the ocean’s surface and onto the shore, the white cabin walls reflecting its glossy tone. He was there at the cabin’s side, sitting on the bench seat flanked by two potted plants, the kitchen window above it. His elbows rested firmly on his knees as he leant forwards, twisting his hands together.
    â€˜Hi.’ Emma approached. James stood, slid his hands into his pockets. Their eyes met. ‘Thanks for, for um…’
    â€˜Just tell me.’ He crossed his arms.
    Right. No messing around then.
    Emma took a step closer. James didn’t budge. ‘Back when we were together, when