Chapter Fifteen
Grace
I’m used to awkward and unpleasant meals. It’s something you become immune to when you’re around people like Nelson and his family. But the one at Huxley’s place takes tense to a whole different level.
His family is acting gleeful and triumphant, which is both creepy and weird, while the brunette called Emma—apparently Huxley’s half-brother’s mom—is serene and seems genuinely happy for me and Huxley and our upcoming nuptials. If she suspects something’s weird about our situation, she’s doing a great job of hiding it.
Vivienne vacillates between sobbing and screeching, while Nelson and Karie content themselves with glaring at me. The latter’s look in particular promises retribution. Mick can’t seem to decide between anger and amusement. He scowls when he notices me, but smirks every time he glances at Huxley. Meanwhile, Nelson’s brother and his family go along with Andreas, who acts as if this is just a friendly meal.
Tension and fury pour off Huxley, even though he’s doing his best to maintain his calm. His knuckles are too pale, and the smile on his face doesn’t reach his eyes.
“Are you all right?” Emma says to him.
“I’m fine. Just a little overwhelmed at the turn of events.”
He’s upset that he didn’t know I was Nelson’s daughter. I’m shocked that he’s a member of the Huxley family. Don’t all of them work for Huxley & Webber?
I wasn’t kidding when I texted that I had to talk to him. Nerves clench around my throat. This isn’t the best time, but my news isn’t something I can hide from him, even if I wanted to.
My belly twists. I can’t touch my whitefish in lemon sauce. It’s lightly baked and looks perfectly cooked, but it smells off. The multi-grain roll served with the entrée tastes sour and bitter. I reach for the water, then decide it feels strange in my mouth—with a slightly slimy aftertaste.
Huxley notices me moving my food around. He gives me a look and says, “You don’t have to lay it on so thick,” in a low voice.
“She’s always been a picky child,” Karie says. “I suppose Catalina’s fish doesn’t meet her expectations.”
I give her a smile as fake as her breasts. “Morning sickness. I’m sure you understand. Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to the powder room. Huxley, can you show me where it is?”
Fury flares in his eyes. Emma says, “You should take her there and maybe get her some ginger tea. It always settled my stomach when I wasn’t feeling well.”
He schools his face into a polished mask of warmth. “Of course.”
We leave together, his hand at my elbow. Vivienne’s gaze stabs into my back like a knife, but I ignore it. She’s the least of my worries right now.
“You cheap whore,” she mutters loudly enough that we can’t miss it as we walk past her.
“I happen to be a pregnant cheap whore. Fortunately, I have a fiancée, so things should work out fine,” I respond softly, so people on the Huxley side of the table won’t hear me.
Vivienne turns scarlet, but she can’t think of a better attack, not when Andreas is around. Launching herself at me a second time would upset him enough to earn her some sort of punishment. A hint of amusement and respect fleet over the fury that’s been banked in Huxley’s gaze ever since he found out I’m Nelson’s daughter. A tiny bit of hope flares—he might be less upset now.
When we’re sufficiently far from the dining room, he lets me go. I turn to face him, my brief optimism vanishing when I see his now-flat eyes. “Do you plan to call the engagement off?” I ask.
“Why? So everyone will learn I’ve made an even bigger fool of myself than they realized?” Rage and frustration twist his face. “It’s already bad enough I told them I was in love with you. I’ll look like an absolute moron now if I tell them I was just kidding.”
“I’m sorry.” I sag, overwhelming exhaustion pressing down on me with more force than I can handle. “The plan sounded great, and I never wanted to make things difficult for you. It’s just… I didn’t know who you were.”
“Really? With your sister acting like that? When I know she must’ve said my name in front of you at least once or twice?”
“First, she’s my half -sister. Second, she and I aren’t close, in case you haven’t noticed. And third, I thought everyone in your family worked at Huxley & Webber. Like, everyone . And I never saw you on the section of the firm’s site listing all the lawyers and their credentials and specialties. So when Viv got all moony over marrying ‘Huxley,’ I thought she meant a Huxley—one of the people from the website.”
His narrowed eyes scrutinize me for signs of deception. I hold his gaze. I have nothing to hide, nothing to be ashamed of. Still, my insides jitter uncontrollably with nerves that refuse to settle.
“And there’s one more thing I need to tell you.” I let out a soft breath. “I really am pregnant.”
Shock slackens his face. “ What? ”
“I just found out last night.” My voice doesn’t shake, thank God, even though my hands are trembling badly. I fold them together.
Icy skepticism frosts his handsome face. “Is it mine? Actually, is it even real?”
The disbelief is warranted. I’m braced for it, but it still cuts deep. “I checked five times. Trust me, I didn’t want this any more than you.” Even as I say it, I’m sad for the baby in my womb. Just like me, it isn’t wanted by its father. Actually, it has it worse than me. Mom told me she was so happy when she found that she was pregnant with me. I panicked last night for a long time. Then considered texting Huxley the news, but changed my mind because it seemed like something that should be related in person.
And right now, happiness is the last thing I’m feeling. Sympathy, pity and heartache fill my heart until I want to cry for my baby.
“And yes,” I add. “It’s yours.”
He threads his fingers through his hair as he closes his eyes briefly, his mouth tight. “You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he mutters, more to himself than me.
What am I doing? He doesn’t want this baby. Maybe he hates children, or just doesn’t want to have one with me. Either way, my heart breaks that my baby is going to have a father who might treat it as badly as Nelson did me. “I’m not asking you to take responsibility for the baby. I can’t force you, and I’m not going to try.” My baby won’t beg for crumbs of affection from its own parent. I won’t let that happen.
“Then why are you telling me this?”
“Because you should know. You’re the father.”
“You won’t object to a paternity test, then.”
“No.” If I go through the paternity test now, I can spare my baby the kind of heartbreak and humiliation I experienced after Nelson outright rejected me when we first met. “I also won’t make a fuss if you quietly end the engagement.”
“Too late for second thoughts, not after that show you put on with your family. We will get married.”
“It’s foolish to go through with it when you’re this angry. Besides, we were going to fake it for a few months, not actually get married.”
“That was then. Things have changed. Believe me, I don’t want to marry you. But I’m not going to disappoint Emma.”
“Why do you care so much about her?” Why can’t your decision be about the baby, even a little?
“She’s like the mother I never had. She was always there by my side. If I abandon the mother of my child ”—he sneers the words—“she’ll be dismayed.” He shakes his head. “Disappointed. Disillusioned, even. I won’t have that.”
“But getting married? We can’t make such a big life decision to please one person.”
“Then beg me. Getting on your hands and knees might do the trick.”
I inhale with pain at his cruel demand. “You asshole.”
“I’ve always been an asshole. It’s just that I wasn’t one to you.”
He takes a step forward, invading my personal space. I stiffen my spine and glare up at him. I’m not backing down.
“Now. We are going to return to the dining room and you’re going to smile and stop testing my patience. You’ve screwed me over quite enough already.”