‘What?’ Tom’s jaw dropped as shock slammed into him. Fiona had blamed herself for Liam’s death? No way! ‘You can’t have blamed yourself for what happened. What could you have done to save him? It was cot death, for pity’s sake. No one can prevent that. It creeps in and steals life,’ Tom choked. His heart pounded painfully against his ribs. ‘I always blamed myself. Surely you knew that?’ Her eyes were huge in her pale face. ‘What if I hadn’t put him on his right side, knowing that he tended to roll over? Or what if I’d sat with him a little bit longer that night? He’d been colicky earlier in the evening. Had I missed him crying out in his sleep? Anything—everything—that could possibly have happened, even an uneven breath, I wish I’d been in Liam’s bedroom to know about it.’ ‘If only I’d known you felt like that.’ He’d have tried to save her a whole heap of anguish. But he hadn’t known—because he hadn’t listened. He had let her down, big-time.
