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Olivia (Logan 5)

Page 137

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"So you're pregnant again?"

"Yes."

"Are you certain?"

"Yes," she said. "I went to a doctor. Don't worry," she quickly added, "he's not a doctor here. He's a doctor in Boston. He called me today to tell me I was pregnant."

"And like last time, you have no idea who the father is because there were so many in so short a period, right?" I said in a voice dripping with exhaustion and disgust. It was like deja vu.

She turned. Even in the darkness, I could see her eyes burn.

"No. I know who the father is. He's the only one I've been with this last month or so," she said.

"Really? Well, that's some relief. Do you intend to marry?" I asked.

"No, we can't marry."

"Why not?"

"He's already married," she said.

I held my breath. Ice seemed to enter my lungs and shrivel them with constricting pain. It couldn't be. No, it couldn't be.

"Who is it?" I finally found the courage and strength to ask. She looked at the sea again.

"Don't be mad at me," she said.

Was she going to name Samuel? My own husband had betrayed me. Was that why he was always defending her, why he didn't want me to hire a detective? I had left them alone together too many times. I should have known. What a fool I've been. What could be more embarrassing?

I didn't reveal my fears.

"Why should I be mad at you? It's not like I didn't expect you'd come to tell me this one day, not with the life you lead, Belinda."

"Promise?" she asked.

"Oh, stop these childish games. Out with it and that's that."

She turned.

"Nelson," she said, "Nelson Childs."

How many times can you die in one life? How many times can your heart sink, can everything that kept you buoyant and energetic be swiped away from you? Did I ever go to sleep without some fantasy involving Nelson? Could I ever stop my heart from pounding when he approached or touched me or when we danced at affairs? His laughter lingered in my ears, his breath on my cheek. How I enjoyed the way he always drank me in with his eyes, those laughing eyes, full of sparkling lights. When it came to Nelson Childs, I was the cockeyed optimist. It was practically the only time I was.

"You're lying," I said.

"I'm not. I wish I was," she moaned.

"When could you . . . did you . . . and he, I mean . ."

"We met in Boston whenever he had to be there for a trial or to do some legal business. I couldn't help it!" she cried.

"Why would he bother with you? He's happily married," I said desperately trying to find reasons, ways to disprove her confession and accusations.

"His wife's always pregnant. She's pregnant now. I don't know why. He likes me. He's always liked me, but not enough to marry me," she wailed.

"Then why didn't you stay away from him? How could you let this happen?"

"I don't know. I was bored and Nelson's always been lots of fun."



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