“Which is why we’re headed to the mall.”
“I won’t be here long enough to justify clothes shopping.”
“You’ll be here long enough for dinner tonight.”
“Dinner?”
“I figure you’re tired of takeout and my limited cooking skills. Although you look great in anything, I imagine you’re ready for clothes that fit your growing body properly.”
“Are you saying I’m getting too fat for my clothes?” she asked, a playful gleam in her eyes that told him she wanted to keep the peace between them as much as he did.
“You’re not fat, Savannah. Far from it. But I did see you slide your waistband back down due to discomfort.”
“The struggle is real.” She patted her protruding belly. “But I have clothes that fit at home. Chrissie is going to bring me some on her next day off.”
“No need. I’ll get you whatever you need today.” When she started to argue, he glanced her way, met her gaze for a brief second before refocusing on the road. “Let me do this, Savannah. I want to do this.”
“I don’t need you giving me things, Charlie.”
He knew that, had never doubted it. “Let me anyway.”
She hesitated, not wanting to say yes, but at least considering what he was saying. Finally, she sighed. “Okay. But I’m paying for anything I get. And, for the record, I’m not keeping the house.”
He’d let her think that, but he planned to buy her clothes. As far as the house, they’d save that discussion for another day. He whipped his car into the Green Hills mall parking area. He wasn’t much of a mall person, but surely this place had maternity clothes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
SAVANNAH STARED AT her reflection in the mirror. Odd that Charlie had bought her first real maternity clothes for her. A pair of black pants and a pair of jeans, both with stretchy front panels, a couple of nice tops, and the long-sleeved black dress she currently wore with the black boots and maternity support hose he’d also bought her.
She’d argued, but he’d insisted. The cashier had refused to take Savannah’s credit card when Charlie had shoved cash at her. She’d considered refusing the purchases, but that would be childish.
She’d styled her hair, put on make-up from what Chrissie had brought her to cover her bruised face, and looked almost like a normal person. Almost.
With time her bruises would fade, already they were much improved from her wreck. Her swelling was going down. Her lacerations healing well and barely visible beneath her make-up.
Soon she would be able to go back to her old life.
The baby moved, shifting within her belly. She wouldn’t ever really be able to go back to her old life. Not really.
She didn’t even want to.
Oh, she needed to get back to work as soon as possible. She’d planned to take time off after the baby’s birth and having to use her paid time off days due to the wreck just wasn’t good. Plus, whether she was working or not, she still had expenses such as water, electricity, rent.
She needed to get back to work.
Back in Chattanooga, reality still existed. Bills still existed. She needed to get back to reality.
She brushed the hair from her face, revealing where her sutures had been. The wound was healing well and barely noticeable, but she dropped the hair back, covering it. She wanted to look good, or at least the best she could.
Ridiculous, considering how different she looked from just a few months ago. She’d been at her best and he’d left. Nothing she could do was going to change that.
She no longer even wanted to change that.
The apartment door rattled with his key and she took one last look in the mirror at her reflection.
She didn’t need him or anyone.
* * *