‘Is it mine?’
‘Yes.’
‘Impossible.’
‘Apparently not,’ she said. ‘Apparently it happens.’
‘How?’
‘I could ask you the same question.’ He did, after all, have vastly more experience than she did.
‘It makes no sense.’
‘I know.’
His eyes narrowed. ‘Are you sure it’s mine?’
Ouch. ‘Quite sure,’ she said, choosing to forgive him for his scepticism since he was clearly in a state of shock. ‘I saw a doctor this morning. I’m six weeks along and I haven’t had sex with anyone other than you. I could arrange a paternity test if you need proof.’
He gave his head a quick shake, although whether it was to dismiss the need for proof or to clear his thoughts she had no idea. ‘Are you going to keep it?’
‘Yes,’ she said with a firm nod, just in case he was thinking about persuading her otherwise. ‘I am.’
‘I see,’ he said vaguely, and she got the impression that he’d gone to another place entirely.
‘I don’t expect anything from you, Theo,’ she said. ‘I thought you had a right to know, but that’s it. It’s entirely up to you how involved you would like to be. I can do this with or without you.’ And it looked as if it was going to be without him because he was obviously not happy about it. Which was fine. ‘Anyway, that’s all I came to say,’ she added. ‘I get that it’s a shock. So, take your time. Have a think about it and let me know.’
And with that, she turned on her heel and left the way she’d come.
CHAPTER SIX
HAVE A THINK?
Have a think?
How was that even possible when his safe, steady world had just been blown to smithereens? When his biggest nightmare, his greatest fear, the one he’d taken the utmost care to avoid for the whole of his adult life, had shockingly, horrifyingly materialised?
Only dimly aware of Kate’s departure, Theo stood there, reeling. He couldn’t move. He felt as if he were imploding. As if someone had punched in him the solar plexus and followed it up with a lead pipe to the backs of his knees. His chest was tight. His lungs ached. Dizziness descended and his vision blurred.
Breathe.
He had to breathe.
Before he passed out.
Pulling himself together, he dragged in a shaky breath and released it, and the minute the lift door closed behind Kate, he staggered back and sagged against the window.
How the hell could it have happened? he wondered numbly as he dragged shaking hands through his hair and swallowed down the nausea that surged up from his stomach. What warped twist of fate was this?
That Kate was telling the truth he didn’t doubt. She’d been so calm. So matter of fact. He, on the other hand, felt as if he’d been swept up by a tornado, tossed about, and hurled back to the ground. He didn’t need proof of what she claimed. He needed a drink. A damn time machine would be better. One that took him back to that evening so he could throw her out of his office instead of recklessly caving in to inexplicable desire and carting her off to his bed.
As for his involvement, well, that was a no-brainer. He wouldn’t be involved at all. He couldn’t. He was no good. It was highly probable he’d turn out to be worse than that. He could not be part of Kate’s pregnancy or the raising of a child. Under any circumstances. He wouldn’t even know how. To him the word ‘father’ didn’t conjure up images of fishing trips and football games in the park. It represented fear and pain and desolation. He had no experience of anything different. None of the other kids he’d hung out with, kicking around the streets and causing trouble in order to avoid having to go home, had had positive father figures in their lives. He couldn’t provide what a child needed. Hell, he didn’t even know what that was.
All he did know was that he could not claim his child. The risks were too great. It would be in the child’s best, safest, interests if he stayed far, far away. Emotionally. Physically. In every way that he could think of. He would not allow himself to give even a nanosecond’s thought to what could be if he weren’t so terrified of history repeating itself. He couldn’t. The child deserved to live a life without fear.
So he would wipe Kate and the baby and the last fifteen minutes of his life from his head, and get back to the problems he could understand. If he focused on work and nothing else, the tightness in his chest would ease. The swirling blackness would clear. Something would come to him.
Although...