“Tomorrow, Benjamin,” she’d said firmly. The unhappiness in his eyes had hurt her heart. “I’ll see you on Monday.”
She hadn’t had any excuses to offer him…because she’d wanted to do this test first. No need to worry him if she was completely off base.
Biting her lip, her stomach in knots, she watched the colors shift on the are-you-or-aren’t-you strip. Even before the final second, she knew the result.
Oh, she really, really was.
Pregnant.
No question at all about those colors. Her legs shook as she crossed her bedroom and sank down on the fainting couch. It was a well-named piece of furniture.
For long minutes, she just sat there. Stunned stupid.
Outside her bedroom window, a gull screeched its laugh.
“I’m missing the humor in this, bird.” How in the world could she be pregnant? She was on birth control. She never missed a pill. Ever.
Then realization hit like a body slam. Ever…except that time when she got a stomach bug and puked her guts out. Three days’ worth of throwing up. Three days of no pills.
Ben was the only man she’d been with then. But, dammit, he’d worn a condom.
Except…
As dismay filled her, she dropped her head into her hands. That first time they’d been together, he’d entered her and yanked back out in a hurry. After sheathing himself, he’d continued, and neither of them had thought much about it. After all, they were both tested at the Shadowlands…and she was on the pill.
Just shoot me now.
But surely she’d had a period after that. Back in April, right? Her lips pressed together. Actually, she hadn’t experienced more than a few cramps and some spotting—enough to make her think she’d had one.
How far along was she then? She frowned. Z’s Sophia was born at the end of March and that was when she and Ben had first had sex. This was May.
She was six weeks pregnant? No way.
Way. Her hand cupped her stomach as she gulped.
No wonder she’d been unable to summon any appetite for breakfast over the past week and had made up for the lack by eating like gangbusters later in the day. She was pregnant.
I’m going to have a baby.
As exhilaration swept through her, the room seemed to brighten. And then anxiety slid cold fingers up her spine. Because this was wrong. She wasn’t married. Wasn’t prepared.
A rueful laugh escaped. Here she’d been terrified of change and carefully guarded her structured life. Looked as if structure had flown right out the window.
She was going to be a single mother. This was just…impossible. She swallowed hard. How could she tell Ben? Or her family?
Daddy would have a cow.
Mom would… Later today, she’d planned to visit her mother to wish her Happy Mother’s Day. Now there was irony. “Happy Grandmother’s Day, Mom.”
But Mom would deal. And after the shock was over, she’d be wonderful.
What about work? Anne closed her hands on the cushion and stared at the wall. Stared at the image of her, heavy with child, chasing after a fugitive. Her job was not a good…fit…for a pregnant woman.
Oh God, what a total mess.
She’d have to quit before she got to that point.
Because the only other option was to terminate the pregnancy. Everything inside her rejected the idea. My baby. And Ben’s. Ours. Warmth filled her as she thought of what the combination of genes might produce. Norwegian and French—nice mixture.
How was she going to tell Ben? She pushed to her feet and walked out onto the balcony. The morning was foggy and still. Grayness covered the world, blurred the shore, erased the horizon. Invisible waves hissed on the beach.
“Ben, my dear. You’re going to be a father.” She leaned her forearms on the railing and imagined his reaction.
He wouldn’t be furious. And he liked children.
The problem was their relationship. Because he was uncomfortable with being her slave. Her hand rubbed her sternum, trying to ease the ache beneath it.
He wasn’t happy.
He’d told her he was doing good. That he loved being her slave, but…did he? Really? He’d reassured her enough earlier that she’d overlooked the signs—because she hadn’t wanted to see them. Because she was a coward.
In bed, they had no problems whatsoever. The rest of the time…he was struggling.
If she told him that she was pregnant, he’d turn protective and demand to marry her. Insist on taking care of her. He’d stay.
But…she swallowed against the thickness growing in her throat. She didn’t want him if he married her just for the baby. She’d seen parents who’d remained together for a child’s sake, and all the child saw was dislike and coldness. Not love.