Chapter 41 #3
His lips twitched, and despite how much I loved his smile, guilt twisted my insides. I hated keeping the truth from him, but I just couldn’t face it. Not yet.
“It’s worth it,” I whispered, trying to keep my emotions in check so he didn’t suspect something was wrong.
He reached for me, his hand brushing mine in the darkness, and like every time he touched me, tingles moved through my body. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw him smile, and despite my guilt, I did, too. I couldn’t wait to be alone with him. To curl up in his arms. To kiss him.
When Hilary stepped into the room and looked around, I pulled my hand from his and moved farther away. I didn’t know why, but I had a strong suspicion she was looking for me. She spotted me a few seconds later, and even from across the room, I could tell she let out an exasperated sigh. Typical.
I stiffened when Hilary started toward me, wishing Marc would walk away. Knowing that if he didn’t, he might learn my news. I wasn’t ready for that, but I definitely didn’t want him to find out from my minder.
Marc shifted, and I thought my prayers might have been answered, but all he did was put a little more space between us and turn his attention to the soldier standing next to him. God, I hoped the music was loud enough to drown out whatever Hilary had to say.
“There you are, Miss Murphy,” she said when she stopped in front of me. “I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”
“Did I have an appointment?” I glanced at my wristband to make sure I hadn’t missed something. I hadn’t.
“No, no,” Hilary replied. “I was just coming to talk to you about your erratic sleep patterns and habitual exercising. I let it go, but now that you’re pregnant” – Marc went rigid – “I’m concerned. I think we should talk to the doctor about it.”
My face was on fire, but I kept my focus on Hilary.
Out of the corner of my eye, Marc was still visible, and he was openly staring at me, the shock plain on his face.
Oh, no. Oh, God, what was he doing? He was being so obvious, and Hilary was right here.
He needed to look away or he would bring attention to himself. To me.
Dear God, I prayed, please don’t let Hilary notice how stiff Marc is or the way he’s staring at me. Please.
“Miss Murphy?” Hilary prompted when I didn’t respond.
Marc continued to stare.
“Yes,” I croaked, then cleared my throat. “I think that’s a good idea.”
She glanced at her tablet. “I have some time right now, actually.” She looked up. “Does that work for you?”
Normally, a statement like this would have pissed me off because she knew very well both what my schedule was and that I had more time to kill than I liked. But since I could still see Marc staring at me out of the corner of my eye, I was too shaken for her words to get to me.
“Yes,” I managed to get out, “I can do that.”
“Excellent.”
Hilary waved to the nearest exit, indicating we should get going, and I obeyed.
Marc was still watching me when I headed off, but between the angle of his face and the shadows in the dark corner, I couldn’t read his expression.
Not that I needed to since I could imagine how he must be feeling.
Betrayed for sure, most likely hurt as well.
It was justified, of course, because I should have told him, and he would have something to say about it tonight when he came to my room.
For the first time since we took our relationship to the next level, I was dreading being alone with him. I just hoped he could forgive me.
The doctor had given me some sleeping pills in case I decided I needed them but had also assured Hilary that trouble sleeping sometimes came with the territory and that as long as I was napping, I would be okay.
He’d also cleared me to exercise. I was glad because I had no intention of taking pills or changing my sleeping schedule.
Assuming Marc wasn’t finished with me, because there was always the risk that he wouldn’t be able to get over this betrayal.
Normally, I slept a little while I waited for him to slip into my room, but that night, I didn’t even bother trying.
I was nervous. Jumpy. On the verge of tears.
I was also cursing myself for not being honest with him to begin with.
How could I have been so stupid? So selfish?
If I could do it over, I would have told him three weeks ago when I first found out.
I was sitting in one of the two chairs in my room with the lights on when the door opened just after one o’clock in the morning. If Marc was startled to see me up, he didn’t give his feelings away. He simply shut the door and engaged the deadbolt.
Marc watched me as he crossed the room, his expression guarded and his body stiff, and I didn’t miss the way his gaze strayed to my abdomen.
If he was expecting to see proof that I was pregnant, he was going to be disappointed.
I wasn’t far enough along for that. I suspected, though, that he was only thinking about my condition and what it meant for him.
When he reached me, he settled onto the other chair without a word, and for a few seconds, we stared at one another. I was waiting for him to break the silence because, while I should apologize, should tell him everything, I felt like he deserved to have the first word. It was only fair.
“You’re pregnant,” he finally said.
It wasn’t a question or accusation, but more of a statement, which I took as a good sign.
“Yes,” I replied. “I found out three weeks ago.”
Marc’s Adam’s apple bobbed. “And you didn’t tell me.”
Again, it was a statement.
“I tried,” I began, “but I couldn’t get the words out. I don’t know if it was shock or denial or something else, but I just couldn’t make myself say it.”
“Were you ever going to tell me?”
Before he got here, I hadn’t been sure how he’d react, but I hadn’t expected this. He was being so calm. So level-headed. It was a relief, but somehow, it made me feel twice as bad, too.
“Honestly?” I said after a moment to reflect.
Marc gave an almost imperceptible nod.
“I’ve tried to avoid thinking about it, but I’m sure I would have at some point.”
He snorted, displaying emotion for the first time since stepping into my room. “Like when you were showing?”
The words were harsh and bitter, and while I didn’t blame him, it still stung.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, blinking to hold in the tears threatening to break free. “I am so sorry. And I didn’t want you to find out this way. I just needed more time to wrap my head around the whole thing. I also think I was afraid of how it would change things between us.”
He swallowed like finding his voice was difficult then whispered, “Because it could be mine.”
“Because it’s probably yours. I mean, we had sex the night before I was inseminated and then later that day.” I shrugged. “Let’s face it, there was a whole lot more of you inside me than him.”
He jerked like the thought of another man’s sperm inside me hurt.
Marc closed his eyes, and I waited, knowing he needed to think things over, to take it all in, and also knowing that, like me, he might be in denial for a bit before he could fully accept what this meant. I got it. Of course, I did.
After nearly a minute of sitting in silence, Marc blew out a long breath and opened his eyes. When he did, the anger had vanished, and in its place was something else. Something that both thrilled and terrified me.
“I’m going to be a father.”
“You’re going to be a father.”
Marc stood and crossed to me. When he reached me, he knelt and gently placed his hand on my abdomen, his expression full of awe.
My stomach was just as flat as it had always been, but I understood.
This was my third pregnancy, but it felt nothing like the other two, which was one of the reasons I’d put off telling him.
Before, I’d felt no attachment to the thing growing inside me, had viewed it more as a parasite than anything else, but not now.
Now whenever I thought about the life Marc and I had created, I pictured the future.
I pictured a family. And it terrified me.
Marc looked up, his hand still on my stomach, but said nothing. He didn’t need to because he was thinking the same things I was. I loved him. He loved me. This was our baby, and there was no way in hell we could give it up.