A Christmas Night to Remember(59)
Melody was horrified. His empire was hard-won. He had built it up brick by brick and she knew he was immensely proud of what he had achieved. ‘You shouldn’t have done that,’ she whispered. ‘Can’t you change your mind?’
‘Too late.’ He smiled at her. ‘And it’s exactly what I should have done. You confirmed that yourself yesterday. You told me you needed to make a new life, separate from the hectic entertainment business we’ve been involved in, something that would cut out the excess of parties and other functions that took up so much of our time. Independently of you I had come to the same conclusion. It would have happened sooner or later once we’d decided to start a family. The accident merely precipitated things. You were right when you said there were too many people wanting a piece of me, but wrong when you thought you were just one of them. That was never true, however you felt. I didn’t feel it was the moment to tell you I’d sold up yesterday—there were other things to sort out first. But when I said to you I could give it all up and walk away without a backward glance or any regret, it was because I had done exactly that. My world was never the business or the contacts I’d made or the power games. Not after I had met you. You are my world, Dee. We’ve spoken about a family but if the children didn’t come along for whatever reason I would still consider myself blessed among men. You’re my sun, moon and stars. The centre of my universe.’
He touched her stricken face gently, stroking down her cheek and round her full lips with the tip of his finger. ‘I’m glad it’s gone, Dee. Truly. It was a stage of my life which was enjoyable while it happened, but I want to move on with you. It’s also made us a great deal of money,’ he added with male satisfaction. ‘More than enough for us to do anything we want for the rest of our lives.’
She could still hardly take it in that he had actually walked away from his empire. But if he had told her instead that he intended to sell she would have thought he didn’t mean it, she realised now. Was that why he’d made it a fait accompli? She would have felt guilty, felt he was only doing it for her, and would have attempted to persuade him they could go on as they had been. Maybe he knew her better than she knew herself? On second thought there was no maybe about it.
‘Thank you,’ she murmured softly.
Suddenly she felt as if a huge weight had been lifted. No more premières and red carpets and first-night parties. No more relentless rounds of functions and shows and receptions where you couldn’t wear the same dress twice or the knives would be out—always in the back. Of course some of the social occasions they’d attended had been fun, and overall she had enjoyed herself and relished being on Zeke’s arm as his wife, but the accident had changed something independent of the damage to her legs, and she wouldn’t have wanted to step onto the merry-go-round again. And now she didn’t have to. But at a huge cost to Zeke.
‘What will you do?’ she asked him tremulously, not knowing if she wanted to laugh or cry. He wasn’t the kind of man who could sit and do nothing.
‘Again, let me qualify,’ he said, settling her more comfortably in the circle of his arms. ‘This all has to fit in with what I see as my main job of being a husband and father, okay?’ He waited for her nod before continuing, ‘I have a couple of ideas, and they could run alongside the treatment programme your doctors and I have worked out, which will take one day out of the week every week for some time but could result in practically full mobility after six months or so, and excellent long-term prospects. There’s a Swiss doctor I’ve got on board who specialises in your sort of injuries—there’s no one to beat him, not even in the States—and he’s confident you’ll be walking normally by this time next year.’
She half lifted herself on one elbow and kissed him with single-minded intensity and sweetness. Just knowing he was ready to stand and fight with her was everything, and whether she regained all she’d lost didn’t matter so much now.
Zeke lifted strands of her hair and twined them round his fingers as he kissed her back just as strongly, and then he dropped a kiss on the end of her nose as he drew back a little. ‘First idea,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘We look for suitable premises and open a drama school for under-privileged youngsters. It would be the real McCoy, for kids from nine or ten upwards, so we’d need to employ teachers for the normal subjects as well as those specialising in drama and dance and so on. It could be a boarding school for those who wanted it, and a home 365 days of the year for others who need it. Children who have been kicked from pillar to post, kids in the care system or in dysfunctional homes. They’d all have to have a leaning towards acting or singing or dancing, but once they were with us they’d be there until they chose to leave. And the home part of the place would be exactly that—not an institution. A place of security and unconditional support.’