“Fine,” she hisses again. “Then you can sleep on the couch.”
“Like hell I will.”
“For God’s sake, you can’t even give me that?”
“No, because there’s no reason to be dramatic.”
Jessa stamps her foot. “I heard you out there, Anton!”
“I was pissed at my brother. It wasn’t about you.”
“Then who was it about? Is there another woman having your baby?” she demands, crossing her arms across her chest. “Hm?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“Then tell me!”
“Would you believe me if I explained?”
“Honestly, right now, anything you say will just sound like an excuse to me.”
“Exactly,” I say. “So why bother?”
Her eyes go wide. I can see the hurt in them, written clear as day. “You’re an asshole. Why did you even bring me here, Anton? Was it just to screw with my head and make me think that I was important to you?”
“No.”
“Then why?” she demands again.
“Because I thought you’d enjoy it. Simple as that.”
She doesn’t quite know how to process that. She turns from me and stares out the window. “I have no idea what we’re doing…” she murmurs.
“We’re having a baby,” I say. “That’s what we’re doing.”
I know she wants more from me. I know she wants some kind of declaration of my feelings for her. It’s not even that I don’t know what to say.
It’s more about bringing myself to say them.
I’m just not that kind of man.
I had hoped that bringing her here would demonstrate where we stood. But of course, fucking Yulian had to mess that up, too.
“You know what?” Jessa says. “I’m tired. I’m just gonna go to bed. If you don’t want to sleep on the couch, that’s fine. I’ll take it.”
“You’re not taking the couch,” I growl.
“I’m not sleeping in that bed with you.”
“Yes, you are.”
“I don’t want to.”
“Well, tough. We all do things we don’t want to sometimes.”
She looks at me incredulously. “Since when have you ever done anything you didn’t want to do?”
“I married Marina, didn’t I?”