Chapter Ten #3
I don’t wait for him to recover. I stride back to the podium towards her. Towards the one woman who makes this day feel like more than just a press release.
She catches me watching her and, for one fragile moment, her mask slips. Concern flickers in her eyes. A weakness. A kindness.
‘Are you okay?’ she asks softly, as though the question costs her something.
I smile, because anything else would undo me here in front of the world. ‘Ask me this time next week.’ Would she be pregnant then with my child? Another man’s? Or is fate waiting in the wings with yet another cruel twist?
Unfortunately, I’m learning that patience is now a virtue where I’m concerned. That it is, in fact, designed to drive me slowly insane.
She frowns at my cryptic words.
But it’s all I can manage for now.
Tessa
Ask me this time next week.
All week I’ve been tossing that handful of words around in my head, searching for meaning.
A clue. Anything to explain why Theo Biney, master of control and strategy, of keeping his cards pinned to that marble-hard chest, would give me a cryptic deadline.
But nothing I come up with is enough to warrant it.
So I push it out of my mind.
Because bigger things are distracting me.
The soft deadline for my first pregnancy test came and went yesterday.
My period was due two days ago. And yet—nothing. No cramps. No exhaustion. No tell-tale bloating. None of the signs of the PMS I’d tried to fool Theo with last month.
I tossed and turned all last night, swinging between giddy hope and icy dread. Between ‘maybe this is it’ and ‘don’t set yourself up for heartbreak.’ Between wanting to scream for joy and wanting to curl up in a ball and hide from impending disappointment.
In the end, I texted Cilla at some ungodly hour.
Her response came fast, reassuring, calm.
It’s normal. Wait a few more days. Bodies do what they want. You’ll be fine. But Mother Nature is also a resilient bitch when She wants to be. It’s good news, cousin. I can feel it. #excited
Easy for her to say when she’s glowing and radiant, her second baby only weeks away from arrival. My heart thumped for hours after, the uncertainty clawing at me until dawn as imaginary twinges held me in the grip of fear.
A sudden knock at the crack of dawn breaks the spiral.
It would almost be a relief when I drag myself to the door, throw it open, if I didn’t suspect who my visitor is.
And dear heaven, when it’s confirmed, I’m not sure whether I want to step back or throw myself into his arms at the sight of the man who won’t leave my dreams or my reality.
Theo fills the doorway like he fills every space he enters. Broad shoulders, crisp shirt open at the throat, dark trousers hugging long legs. Formidable. Solid. The kind of presence that makes the world tilt towards reassurance even when everything else is chaos.
He looks far too fresh even with his hair a touch more dishevelled than I’ve seen recently.
But it’s the look in his eyes that stops me. Something barely leashed and fierce. Something that screams he knows more than he’s letting on.
He holds up a paper bag. ‘I got these for you.’
‘What is it?’ I ask, automatically reaching for the bag when I should ask him what he’s doing here at this early hour.
‘Pregnancy tests. Six,’ he says flatly. ‘So there’s no room for error.’
One mystery solved, at least. Still my stomach lurches and my fingers tighten around the bag. ‘I… I wasn’t thinking of—’
‘Delaying the inevitable only creates unnecessary worry and upsets your body’s balance.’ He steps in and peers down at me as he kicks the door shut with his foot. ‘Let’s get this over with, Tessa.’
He paces the guest-house living room while I lock myself in the bathroom. The ticking of my heart is louder than the hand of the wall clock.
And when the test strip blooms with lines that change my entire world, my hands shake so violently I nearly drop it. Then immediately doubt the veracity of what must surely be a contaminated stick. So I take another, then another. Until my bladder is empty.
They all read the same.
Two lines. Pregnant.
When I emerge, he’s still pacing, chest rising and falling rapidly.
He stops dead one scant foot in front of me. His eyes frantically search mine, but I know my silence is answer enough.
‘You are pregnant?’ His voice is clipped, rough, barely controlled.
‘Yes,’ I whisper.
For one dizzying second, something feral sparks in his gaze. Possessive. Primal. Hungry. The air between us bristles with it, and I feel it all the way down to my marrow.
Then…he reins it in. Effortlessly. Infuriatingly. He closes the distance between us, presses a kiss to my forehead like he’s sealing a deal, and murmurs, ‘You have what you want. Are you happy with this outcome?’
My nod is hesitant, but it’s all I can manage. Because far too many emotions are fighting for supremacy within me. ‘Yes.’
He exhales long and deep. ‘Good. Congratulations,’ he rasps gruffly.
And then he turns. Walks out. The door clicks shut behind him.
Leaving me alone with the echo of his calm congratulations…and the knowledge that something is about to shatter.