After a lifetime of adhering to a self-protecting code of cynicism he’d suddenly reverted to a place of blind trust? He’d even been contemplating making her a more permanent fixture in his life...when all along she’d had a far more ambitious game-plan.
She was pregnant.
The thought made a cold sweat break out over his skin. He’d already been responsible for the deaths of a mother and child. How on earth could he hope to nurture and protect a defenceless baby? He’d always vowed never to have children, not wanting to put any child through what his parents had put him through. And that vow had solidified after the crash.
Yet if she was pregnant, and it was his—
His heart stopped at a sudden unbidden image of a tiny dark-haired infant suckling at Edie’s breast. Damn. Enough. He would provide for the child, obviously, but he couldn’t contemplate anything further than that right now.
They’d just walked back into his apartment when Edie said, ‘Sebastio, I need to tell you something.’
He steeled himself, feeling an almost superstitious aversion to looking at her, as if that might unravel the fierce control he was exerting over himself.
He can’t even look at me, Edie thought, sickened.
She refused to let him treat her as if she was invisible, though, and she put down her bag and walked around him so she stood in front of him.
Those silver-grey eyes blazed down into hers. For a fleeting moment Edie had the sensation that if he felt this much anger then surely it had to mean strong emotions were at play and maybe there was a chance she could appeal to him...
‘I wasn’t lying when I told you I had my reasons for believing I couldn’t get pregnant.’
‘It’s too late for excuses.’
‘It’s not an excuse.’ Edie’s voice was sharp. She was on edge after the overload of tension and Sebastio’s icy dismissal of her.
Sebastio stood still. Not moving away.
She swallowed. ‘I had cancer when I was in my teens. A rare type of lymphoma. I went through months of chemotherapy and radiation. One area that was specifically targeted was my uterus, which is why the prospect of my getting pregnant was so slim. Slim enough for me to believe it wouldn’t happen.’
He said nothing.
She continued. ‘The night I saw you...the night in the club... I’d just been given the all-clear. I was wearing a wig.’ She touched her hair self-consciously. ‘That’s why it was longer. I had no hair after the chemo. And I haven’t let it grow long since then because I have a superstitious fear that if I do the cancer will come back.’ She stopped, her heart thumping painfully.
Sebastio looked totally expressionless. He looked like a different person. Remote. Austere. Like he had that night in the club when he’d told her to run along.
Eventually he said, ‘If this is true, why didn’t you tell me before?’
‘If this is true.’
The pain of him not believing her almost blindsided Edie for a moment. ‘It is true.’ She pulled down her top and touched her port scar. ‘This is where they fed the drugs into my system.’
He barely flicked a glance down.
She went on. ‘The reason I didn’t tell you was because I didn’t want you to think of me as fragile...vulnerable. I didn’t want you to remember me like that. It was a tough time. I prefer not to think about it.’
And yet he had told her almost everything, Sebastio realised bitterly. More than he’d ever told anyone else.
He was aware of the faint red line under her collarbone, and he didn’t like to think that it had allowed toxins to be fed into her system, but once again the jury was out on whether or not this was just an elaborate ruse to gain his sympathy.
He’d be a fool to fall for it.
He looked at his watch and said, ‘I’ve arranged an appointment with my physician tomorrow morning. We’ll discuss what happens next after that. I’m going to go into the office now and I won’t be back until late tonight.’
In other words, she was dismissed.
Edie said nothing as Sebastio walked out of the apartment again. A wave of weariness came over her and she went into the bedroom that she hadn’t yet used and climbed under the covers, willing sleep to come and mute the pain she was feeling.
* * *