“Theo.”
So cold.
Rejection was heavy in the one small word. And something else too, that vibrated through the air.
Palpable tension.
He swallowed, needing to moisten his throat, and the eyes that held Imogen’s were awash with emotion.
“May I see her?”
The fear that flashed in Imogen was unmistakable. Theo groaned inwardly. He was messing everything up. He’d had no clue what to say to her, but this, evidently wasn’t what she wanted.
“I’m … I need to try to feed her,” she said, tightening her grip on the baby as though she actually thought he might be about to swoop in and lift her up, take her far away.
“We need to speak.”
Imogen nodded, tears sparkling on her eyelashes. “I know that.” She closed her eyes, as if fortifying herself. “But not now.” She reached a finger down, curling it over their daughter’s downy, fair head. “I’m too tired for that now.”
Of course she was. She must have been exhausted. And in two hours of pacing, he hadn’t even thought to go to the damned hospital gift shop and get her flowers. He cast a glance around her empty room, and it was as though he’d been stabbed through the chest. Everything about the room seemed to scream ‘alone’. There was one bed – no chair. No gifts. Just Imogen, and now, their baby.
He moved closer, drawn almost without his realizing it, until he was hovering right beside her, his eyes dropping to their baby. And everything else evaporated from his mind. He stared down at her, at the child they’d made, his body held in place with relief, joy, and so much love he couldn’t fathom it.
“She’s beautiful,” he said thickly, not caring now that emotion was visible on his face, in his eyes. “Just like her mum.”
Imogen visibly startled; the eyes that met his were disdainful – full of rejection. “I haven’t named her yet,” she said primly.
“Not Cruella, then?” He teased, and her eyes lifted to his with sadness and accusation. Sadness at what they’d been, and with accusation because he’d let her think there was so much to them than there had been. He’d fooled her into loving him; into hoping for a future.
When had he planned to leave her? So soon after having the baby? Or had he at least intended to wait a few months? And would that have been worse? She sucked in a pained breath, shaking her head in response to his attempted joke.
“No.” Imogen didn’t feel like joking. In the space of minutes, she’d gone from jubilant joy to desperate pain. The chasm between how this moment should have been – how she’d thought
it would be only a week earlier – and how it actually was, seemed cataclysmic.
“Listen, Imogen,” he dropped his hand to her leg, rubbing her lightly through the blanket. “I know what you heard. What my mother and Marie said.”
Imogen closed her eyes. “So they knew I was there?” She had wondered about that, in the week since running out of the restaurant, and Theo’s life.
“My mother didn’t. Marie, I’m almost certain, planned for you to hear their conversation.”
“Did she know you’d drawn up a custody agreement?” Imogen asked stiffly. “Had you discussed it with her?”
“No one was supposed to know,” he said.
“Including me.”
“Yes, including you. Until I explained. I have to explain.”
“But it’s true?” She asked, looking away from him, turning her attention back on their baby. Tears clogged her throat and she felt like she was about to cry. Not to sob silently either, but to indulge in a proper cathartic meltdown. Her breath was labored and pain was spreading through her.
“It’s not … as bad as it sounds,” he muttered finally.
“Oh, really?” She choked on the word and lifted their daughter higher, breathing her in, kissing her little head, but the pain didn’t disappear and she did sob properly, a loud, cracking noise in the delivery suite. “I’m not going to let you take her from me.”
Her pain was tangible and Theo knew that, for the rest of his life, he would never forgive himself for putting her through this. He crouched down, bringing his face level with hers. “Please, agape, calm down.”
“How can I?” She fixed him with a watery stare, pain thick in her chest. She looked at the man she loved – the man she’d loved from the minute she’d met him – and then she blinked heavily. “I’ve spoken to a lawyer as well. Until I stop nursing, I’ll have full custody of her.” The words were bleak. Speaking about the little one as a commodity was misery inducing.