My jaw tightened. “Stop pushing her on me.”
“Why?”
“Because I fucked up, okay?” Realizing I’d raised my voice, I took a breath, looking around to see who might have heard my outburst.
“What did you do?”
Dammit. I didn’t want to talk about this. “It doesn’t matter. I’m dead to her.” Saying the words out loud, I felt the emptiness I saw in Reyna’s eyes. I knew she wanted to leave. I knew she wanted out of our deal. I wanted to give that to her but I couldn’t. Not yet. Not until I made sure George was out of my way.
Amelia put her hand over mine. “I doubt you are. I thought that same thing about Max at one time. He thought that about me, and yet, here we are.”
“Not everyone needs a house with a picket fence.”
“No. But everyone needs love, James. Including you. Especially you.” She rose from the table. “I need to use the ladies’ room. Can you watch Andrew for a minute?”
I nodded, glad for the reprieve. As soon as she disappeared, Andrew cried. I plucked him from his seat, sitting him on the table in front of me.
“Your mother is exasperating.”
Andrew reached out, pressing his hands on my face. I imagined he was saying, “Yes, I know.” But as I looked into his eyes, there was something more. Something that hit me deep down. Deeper in my soul that I thought possible.
I leaned forward, pressing my forehead against his as my heart burst open. I was going to have one of these. I was going to be a father.
In that moment, I wanted to be everything Reyna and our baby needed, even as I doubted I could do it. But I could try. That was, if I wasn’t too late.
CHAPTERTWENTY
Reyna
I couldn't blame James for being shocked or for not wanting me and the baby. He'd been clear the entire time that a family wasn't what he wanted. I had been shocked at the news too, but I couldn't think of this baby as a mistake like he did. That didn't mean to say I felt ready to be a mother because I didn't. I was terrified, actually. The good news was that I wouldn't have to worry about my finances. James planned to honor his obligation, but even if he didn't, if I stuck this marriage out, I would walk away a wealthy woman.
The one question was how long could this marriage actually last without repercussions of the pregnancy and James’s intention not to be a father? The board would find out and use it against him for sure. Every day that James came home from work, I wondered if today was the day where he was going to suggest that we end this fake marriage just to avoid having to deal with the pregnancy when it became too late for me to hide it.
But as the days passed, when James returned home after work, he acted like he always had, although without the sexual urges. He spoke about the inroads he was making at work. He reviewed the materials and information I gathered for him. But he never spoke of the baby.
Sometimes, he would look at me like he wished things could be different, but it was likely wishful thinking on my part. Or maybe he wished that I acted like I had before. But I couldn’t. I was able to put on a good show as a dutiful wife when it was necessary, but at home, I felt empty. To be honest, it was worse now than when I discovered Dean cheating on me and my parents abandoned me.
I fixed dinner as normal, but then I’d retire to my room or office and work on figuring out what I was going to do once the baby was born. I did my romance writing homework, but only because it was my link to Vivie and an escape from the hot mess my life had become. Too bad my life wasn't a romance novel. If that were the case, James would grovel on his knees, begging me to forgive him. He’d confess his love and desire to be a husband and a father. I laughed without humor at those silly thoughts. Silly thoughts that at one point I had hoped would be true. How dumb was that?
The bright spot in my life was this baby. I did my work for James, but my focus now was on the life growing inside me. I rubbed my hand over my belly as I sat in the waiting room of the obstetrician's office. I'd had a visit not long after I discovered I was pregnant and was relieved to find out that everything looked fine. Of course, there was still a long way to go, but the midwife in the clinic suggested that my having been on the pill and drinking a little bit of alcohol probably wouldn’t have hurt the baby.
The midwife had estimated the due date as mid- to late September based on the fact that my last period was in December. That was three months short of when my year-long marriage to James would end. I didn’t know if he was in denial, but it seemed to me that we needed to figure out how we were going to explain this baby if he wasn't going to be a father.
After my first visit, the midwife referred me to the OB/GYN I was scheduled to see today.
“Mrs. Dunsmore.”
After all these months, it still felt weird to be called that. Maybe because it wasn’t really true.
I followed the nurse into an exam room where she took vitals and asked me how I felt. I was honest, indicating that I was tired, but at least the morning sickness was subsiding.
She looked at my belly, softly protruding from a long-sleeve T-shirt I wore, and then checked the chart again. "How far along are you?"
"About twelve weeks. Three months or so."
She made ahmmsound. "I'll let Dr. Liston know that you're here." She left the room, leaving me alone. No, not alone. I had my baby.
I pressed my hands over my belly to talk to the being growing inside me. "Maybe in this romance I'm supposed to be writing, I can give her an unplanned pregnancy. That will definitely shake things up."