Selah didn't really hate Valentine's Day. The memories got to her with all the hearts and flowers and she hated the memories. They burned a hole in her gut. The rest of the year, no problem. Life went on. But Valentine's Day was all about Him.
Joss Santiago. Her husband. Absentee husband. Soon to be ex-husband if she could find him to serve the papers. Unfortunately, the Himalayas didn't exactly scream friendly communications. Nor the Andes, the Pyrenees and just about any other bloody mountain range that Joss considered more important than his marriage. She could hardly accuse him of neglecting a son he didn't know existed. And whose fault was that?
Two years he'd been gone. Leaving the morning after Valentine's Day. She'd meant to tell him. Somewhere in the whole champagne and fine dining at the best restaurant in town. But he'd blindsided her with his declaration.
"I've got this opportunity, Selah. A climb. All expenses paid by the production company for the television special."
"You said the last climb was it. You said you didn't need to climb anymore."
His blue eyes sparkled. "But this is a chance in a lifetime. To climb with the greats. Roberts, Mac Reedy, Danforth. Can't you see?"
She'd seen. Too much. The euphoria of their first months of marriage had worn off and Mister Adrenaline was back and ready to bust out of the humdrum of lecturing engineering students. "If that's what you want, Joss, I won't stop you. But you said it yourself when you asked me to marry you. Mountain climbing isn't compatible with family life."
He'd looked at her, his beautiful mouth compressed. "Is that an ultimatum?"
"If that's how you want to see it."
He'd packed up and left the next morning.
She wanted a divorce. In these days of no fault divorce he should be grateful she was making it so easy for him. She wanted nothing. The apartment he'd come home to was empty of her. The few wedding presents he recognised had come from his family and friends. The papers in his hand were the only thing remotely connected to her. They'd been following him around and ended up back where they started.
Running his fingers through over-long hair he stared blindly at the empty mantelshelf where the wedding photos used to stand. Had she thrown them away? He couldn't blame her. In the old days they called it abandonment. He'd broken a promise, a lot of promises. It hadn't taken him long to regret it, but he'd always been too stubborn for his own good. He'd have to call her. They should talk before he signed the papers. Find out if that was what she really wanted.
The phone slipped from his fingers, still clumsy after the last bout of frostbite. He'd been lucky not to lose them. Lucky to be alive at all. Delving between the cushions of the couch he came up with a phone, but not his phone. A small blue phone that blared out a tinny ring tone when he accidentally pressed a button. A child's toy.
Selah put the spoon down onto the Bunnykins plate with a sigh. Ben was being difficult enough without his meal being interrupted. Teething again, from the red flush on his cheeks. Her bare feet made no sound as she walked along the hall of the old timber house she'd bought three months ago when she'd realised Joss wasn't coming back.
The man stood looking out over the garden, his back to the door. Tall and lanky with dirty blonde hair in a ponytail, he seemed familiar, yet...
"Joss?"
He turned to face her and she sucked in a breath. Gaunt was the only way to describe the prominent cheek bones and hollow eye sockets. Even the once bright blue eyes looked dull grey in the sallow face.
"May I come in?"
So polite. She thought of Ben in the kitchen, probably dumping his dinner onto the floor. He was safe enough with the straps holding him in the chair. She stepped back to allow him to enter. "When did you get back?"
"Last night. I came to see you about this."
The divorce papers. He'd finally got them after three months. "What is there to talk about?"
His hand delved into his trouser pocket. "I thought I should return this."
She looked at the toy phone. "You think it's mine?"
"I found it in the apartment. You have a child?"
"Yes."
"Have you moved on? With someone else?"
"What does it matter to you? You left."
"You said, before I left, climbing wasn't compatible with family life. Were you pregnant?"
For a moment she wanted to hurt him, but Ben didn't deserve that. He needed to know his father. Even if his father wasn't interested. "Yes. I was going to tell you that last night."
"Until I told you about the climb."
"There didn't seem much point. You were determined to go. It's not like you hurried back."
"I was a fool."
She stood silently watching him, wondering at the deep lines that spoke of exhaustion.
Suddenly he laughed, a strained sound that hurt. "You can't argue with that. I was a damned fool. I lost the best thing I ever had."
"Do you want to see your son?"
"You'll let me see him?"
"Of course. You're his father."
"I thought...I don't deserve your forgiveness."
"I didn't say I forgave you. But Ben doesn't need to know that."
"You called him Ben?"
"Benjamin Joscelin Santiago."
"I'm sorry I wasn't here."
"You missed out on eighteen months. First words, first steps."
"I don't want to miss any more..." he tilted his head to look down at her. "I won't be climbing anymore."
"You said that before we were married."
"I know. I thought I could have both. And when you said I couldn't, I thought the mountains would be enough. They weren't."
Gently, Selah took his thin hand. "Come and see our son."
