‘Then talk to me.’
His jaw tightened. ‘Fine. I was going to wait until the morning, but if you can’t or won’t wait, we’ll do it now.’
‘Do what?’
‘Break up. Call it off.’ His voice was colder and harder than his gaze. ‘Whatever one does to end an engagement.’
Watching the colour drain from her face, he felt sick. But knowing that he could hurt her so easily only made him more determined to finish it there and then—for what was the alternative? That she spent the next thirty years trapped with him in a loveless marriage?
A marriage that would force their child to endure the same dark legacy as him.
No, that wasn’t going to happen. His child deserved more than to be a witness to his parents’ unhappy marriage. And Nola deserved more than him.
Across the room Nola took a breath, tried to focus, to make sense of what Ram had just said.
‘I don’t understand,’ she said finally.
But then, staring at him, she did—for the man who had held her in his arms and made love to her so tenderly had been replaced by a stranger with blank, hostile eyes.
‘You want to end our engagement? But you were going to announce it tonight...’
He shrugged. ‘And now I’m not.’
But I love you, she thought, her heart banging against her ribcage as though it was trying to speak for itself. Only it was clear that Ram had no use for her love, for any kind of love.
‘Why?’ she whispered. ‘Why are you doing this?’
‘I’ve changed my mind. All this—us, marriage, becoming a father—it’s not what I want.’
‘But you said that children need to know where they come from. That they need to belong.’ His words tasted like ash in her mouth.
His gaze locked onto hers. ‘Don’t look so surprised, Nola. You said yourself I’m not cut out to be a hands-on daddy. And you’re right. I’m not. What was it you said? No father is better than a bad father. Well, you were right. You’ll do a far better job on your own than with me messing up your life and our child’s life. But you don’t need to worry. I fully intend to take care of you and the baby financially.’
Nola stared at him in silence.
He was talking in the same voice he used for board meetings. In fact he might just as easily have been discussing an upcoming software project instead of his child.
Her heart was beating too fast. Misery and anger were tangling inside her chest.
‘Is that what you think matters?’ she asked, reining in her temper.
He sighed. ‘Try not to let sentiment get in the way of reason. Everything that baby needs is going to cost money so, yes, I think it does matter.’
‘Not everything,’ she said stubbornly. ‘Children need love, consistency, patience and guidance, and all those are free.’
His mouth curled. ‘Tell that to a divorce lawyer.’
Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his car keys.
‘There’s no point in discussing this now. You can stay here, and I’ll call my lawyers in the morning. I’ll get them to draw up the paperwork and they can transfer thi
s house into your name tomorrow.’
‘What?’ She stared at him, struggling to breathe.
‘I’ll work out a draft financial settlement at the same time. As soon as that’s finalised we can put all this behind us and get back to our lives.’
Her skin felt cold, but she was burning up inside.