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The Unwanted Wife (Unwanted #1) Page 38
Author: Natasha Anders

Chapter Seven

“I won’t be able to go to the doctor with you today, Theresa,” Sandro informed Theresa while they were breakfasting in the dining room the following morning. She would never have admitted it but she had really been relying on having him there that day. She was in her sixteenth week of pregnancy and had been scheduled for a precautionary amniocentesis that day. Because of her previous miscarriage, her doctor wanted to take no chances. She was a nervous wreck about the procedure and even though she knew the risks of complications were very low, they were still there. Also even though her logical mind told her that her baby would be fine she was still dreading the possible outcome of the test. Sandro had been a rock during her first ultrasound the month before, holding her hand while he listened to the whooshing sound of their baby’s heartbeat for the first time and squeezing it tightly when they had caught sight of the fragile fluttering on the black and white monitor. It had been too early to tell the baby’s sex but Theresa was confident that it was a boy and had said so. Sandro had remained quiet during the entire procedure but he had been a comfort to her.
“Why not?” She asked casually.
“I have to go to Italy next week and I have a lot to finish at the office before I leave,” he informed her tightly and she lowered her eyes back to her plate.
“Is your father okay?” She asked softly and he hesitated before responding.
“Yes. My visit is unrelated to any family business,” she shut her eyes in pain, suddenly knowing that he was going because of that phone call last night.
“Okay,” she nodded, battling to sound nonchalant about it. “It’s just... I’m getting the amniocentesis today.” He swore quietly beneath his breath.
“I’m sorry, Theresa,” he murmured, seeming almost stricken by the news. “I completely forgot.”
And that, of course, brought the major problem with their marriage into sharp relief. While she had been worrying about the procedure, stressing about possible complications, terrified of the slight risk of miscarriage it presented and suffering through sleepless nights thinking about the birth or genetic defects the results could reveal, her husband had simply forgotten about the test. And this just when she had started to rely on him to be there for her. Of course, she would never reveal just how much she had depended on having his solid, stoically silent presence there so she shrugged carelessly.
“I’m sure Lisa will go with me,” she nodded firmly and his eyes shone with naked relief.
“That’s a great idea...” he nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll be at your next appointment. I’ll only be gone for a week or so. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“I’ll be fine,” she dismissed airily, digging into her scrambled eggs like someone who didn’t have a care in the world. There was an awkward silence, while he watched her eat but Theresa very determinedly kept her head down while she scooped the eggs into her mouth with as much gusto as she could manage without choking.
“I don’t want you to be alone while I’m gone,” he suddenly breached the uncomfortable silence and Theresa frowned at his words, looking up at him with her laden fork lifted halfway to her mouth.
“I won’t be alone, Rick and Lisa are always around and the staff are ever present,” as if to prove her words, the smiling housekeeper entered the room with a pile of pancakes which she placed in front of Theresa with a speaking look. Phumsile, who was in charge of all the domestic staff, made no secret of the fact that she thought Theresa was way too skinny for a pregnant woman and had taken it upon herself to ensure that Theresa ate healthily. Theresa secretly suspected the older woman of being in cahoots with Sandro and had even accused Sandro of such. He’d merely laughed and refused to comment. Phumsile disappeared back into the kitchen and Sandro sighed impatiently.
“That’s not enough,” he muttered. “I want you to stay with your cousin.”
“No.” She simply went back to her eggs, helping herself to a pancake, not wanting to incur Phumsile’s wrath. The silence seethed from the other end of the table.
“I insist.”
“No.” She didn’t even bother meeting his eyes this time.
“Theresa, you’re being very difficult,” he kept his voice level and patient.
“And you’re being unreasonable,” she suddenly snapped, glaring at him furiously. “Rick and Lisa have a new baby. I will visit them regularly and I have no doubt they will come around here but for me to stay there? That’s just ridiculous. I won’t intrude and I don’t need a minder; I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself.”
“What if something goes wrong? What if you need help in the middle of the night and no-one’s around?”
“Why don’t you just stay home if you’re so concerned?” She retorted furiously and immediately wished the words back when his gaze turned speculative.
“Would you like me to stay home?” He asked quietly.
“It makes no difference what I want,” came her mutinous response.
“Of course it does,” he placated gently. “I’d stay if you wanted me to.”
“What about your important business?” She asked sarcastically.
“You’re more important,” he said softly.
“You mean the baby I’m carrying is more important?” she corrected and his jaw clenched.
“No, that’s not what I meant,” he maintained patiently and she blinked before shaking her head.
“You’re trying to confuse me,” she complained frowning at him and he grinned.

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Natasha Anders's Novels
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