He nodded, a brusque movement of his head. “I barely remember the night we met. But when I saw you again, I knew I couldn’t let you go.” He put a hand on her still-rounded stomach. “Baby or not, everything clicked inside me when I saw you.”
“You didn’t remember me at all,” she said with a small shake of her head. “You thought I worked for you. If I hadn’t told you about the baby you would have let me walk out of that bar…”
“No.” His denial was emphatic. “I would have chased you. I know how hard this is for you to believe. It’s why I saw the lawyer.”
Her jaw clamped down and her face paled. “Please don’t.”
“Don’t what? Surely my five minutes aren’t up already?”
Again, his attempt at humour fell flat. Imogen was so terrified she was quivering.
“Please don’t take her from me. I know you probably can and I understand why you want to, now. I understand how terrified you must be of losing another baby. I know you could use expensive lawyers and tie me up in court and I know you can probably offer her all manner of things but please, I’m begging you…”
“Imogen, listen, let me finish.” His eyes hooked to hers and she looked away, unwilling to feel any kind of connection with him. Doubts plagued her.
“At first, I saw my lawyer just to get advice. I didn’t know anything about you and I told myself it was smart to protect my interests. To find out what my claim would be, in case you decided to keep me away from the baby.”
Imogen blanched and he softened his voice, staring at her, willing her to understand him. “But less than a fortnight after you’d moved in I knew that wasn’t going to be my problem. I wanted … I wanted what we had to be real. I wanted that so badly.” He cleared his throat, and was uncharacteristically abashed. He focused his attention on their baby to save himself from her inquisitive look. “So I changed my brief. I didn’t get custody arrangements drawn up to take her away from you.”
He stopped speaking abruptly as the door swung open and the nurse reappeared clutching a plastic cup of tea. She placed it on the table beside Imogen, then spent a painful few minutes checking Imogen’s temperature and blood pressure. Theo held his tongue, but he was about to explode.
“So?” Imogen asked when they were alone once more, the word coming out breathy and impatient. “Why did you?”
“I wanted … I wanted to show you that I would let you walk away, if that’s what you wanted.”
“What?” Imogen swapped their baby to her other arm, nestling her carefully into the crook of her elbow and then lifting her tea cup. She leaned forward to sip it, watching she didn’t get the boiling water anywhere near their child.
“You’re so young. And so sweet and kind and thoughtful and generous. I started to worry that you would feel trapped by this. By me. I’d steam-rollered you into living with me, we’d set up the nursery in my apartment. I worried that you would feel …resentful.”
Imogen’s cheeks flushed pink. Hadn’t she thought that? But only once she’d overheard his mother’s conversation.
“I didn’t.” She said simply. “At least, not until I thought you were just using me as a baby incubator for you and Marie.”
His laugh was a coarse sound, without humour. “Believe me,” he muttered. “That’s not how I ever thought of you.”
“So how would it have worked? What does the arrangement say? Am I meant to move back home? How much of our daughter’s time did you feel fair to allot to me?”
He winced, but he wouldn’t be derailed. Her hurt was natural. “I bought a place around the corner from me, in your name. I wanted to give you this so that you knew yourself to have options.”
“What options?” She responded bleakly, and for some reason, the thought of the nursery they’d decorated together came to mind and emptiness filled her.
“I don’t want you to stay with me because of her.” He stroked the baby’s head gently. “I don’t want you to stay with me because you can’t afford not to. I want you to be with me –properly, for real – because you can’t bear not to be.”
She shook her head slowly from side to side and fear of rejection made him speak faster.
“When you disappeared from that damned baby party catastrophe my mother organised, do you know what chilled me to my core? Worry over you. Not the baby. You. The love of my life. The idea that something could have happened to you was the worst thing I’ve ever contemplated.”
“Don’t say that,” she shook her head. “I can’t believe it.”
“I wanted to tell you that I love you, that I want to marry you, but I wanted to have everything lined up first. I wanted you to know that whatever happens, I will look after you. That you can stay with me, or you can go, and I will support you in whatever choice you make. I love you, Imogen. All of you.”
Tears fell unchecked down her cheeks and Theo lifted a palm to wipe them away gently. “I should have told you sooner. In truth, I suppose I thought you knew. I thought it often enough, and emphatically enough, that I just presumed it was one of those things that went without saying.”
Imogen sobbed, torn between wanting to believe him and needing, desperately, to make the smart choice for herself, and her baby. “But you said you didn’t want to be engaged.”
“When did I say that?”
“When I asked about how you called me your fiancé,” she murmured. “Remember?”