Then he suddenly realized.
She didn’t understand because he hadn’t told her. There was only one way to change that. Just the thought made his stomach churn. But there was only one option that was worse. Leaving Hana and his unborn child behind.
Taking a deep breath, he said hoarsely, “You’re right. I never wanted to be a father. That’s why I had a vasectomy at eighteen.”
Slowly, she turned to face him, her eyes wide.
“What did I know about fatherhood?” he continued, his jaw clenched. “I never even knew my parents. They abandoned me in a basket on the steps of a church in southern Spain the day I was born.”
“What?” she breathed.
“The nuns found me. Gave me a name. Sent me to the nearest orphanage.” The words came slow and halting from his lips. “When I was a few months old, I was brought home by a family who said they intended to adopt me. But they sent me back.”
“Back? Why?”
He shrugged. “I never learned. Maybe I cried too much. It doesn’t matter. I don’t remember them.” Every syllable tasted like rust in his mouth. “But I do remember the childless couple who brought me home when I was six. Then they got pregnant, and decided they didn’t need me. The night they sent me back to the orphanage, I made the mistake of crying about it. The older boys said they’d give me something to cry about.” Pulling back the hairline at his left temple, he revealed a raised scar. “I quit crying, all right. I was in bandages for weeks.” His lips curled sardonically. “After that, no one tried to adopt me again. I made sure of that.”
“Oh, no.” Hana’s lovely face looked stricken as she whispered, “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“It’s not your fault—none of it is your fault!”
“I know,” he lied. He shrugged. “It helped me, really. Made me stronger. Gave me ambition.”
“Did you ever find out why your parents left you on those church steps?”
“No.”
“There had to be some reason—”
“It doesn’t matter.” His voice held an edge. “I just wanted you to understand why, even at eighteen, I knew I didn’t want to be a father.” He thought of telling her about Isabella, but that was a step too far. He took a deep breath. “But you’re pregnant. Everything has changed.”
She gave a weak smile. “Because the vasectomy failed. For all you know, you might have children all over the world you’ve never heard about.”
He rolled his eyes. “Unlikely.”
“How do you know?”
“Because no woman has come to my house with a baby in her arms, begging for her fair share of my fortune.”
“You really do believe the worst of everyone.”
Antonio looked at her.
“Except you,” he said quietly.
Coming forward, he gently traced his hands along the shoulders of her silk robe. He felt her shiver beneath his touch—or was he the one who was shivering? He dropped his hands.
“I can’t abandon you, or this baby,” he said in a low voice. “I might not have planned for this, but now it’s happened, I can’t leave my child to wonder, night after night, what flaw he could have possibly had from birth, that made him unworthy of a parent’s love, unworthy of family or home.”
Hana gave a choked gasp. “My baby will never feel that way! I will be there. Always.”
“Yes. But he’d always wonder about his father.” Emotion went through Antonio. He couldn’t let this baby feel as he once had. Unworthy. Unwanted. Rejected.
“I will find someone...”
Her voice trailed off at his sharp gaze. “Tanaka?”