After All - Romancing Manhattan

“Are you going to be bossy like this the whole time I’m pregnant?”

“Someone has to look out for you,” he says with a smile. “So, yeah, I am. I’m also going to fix you a bowl of chicken soup and a grilled cheese sandwich because I doubt you’ve eaten today, and you need to eat for the baby.”

“You’re a mother hen,” I accuse. But he slips out from under me and walks into the kitchen. I listen to him bustle about, taking care of me.

I needed Carter to take care of me like this. To jump in and ask me if I’m okay, to insist I eat, to ask when we go to the doctor next.

I needed him.

And he failed miserably.

I wipe a tear as it falls down my cheek and call myself four kinds of a fool for letting him hurt me this way.

But it does hurt.

More than I ever thought possible.

“How many sandwiches do you want?” Christopher asks from the kitchen.

“Just one.”

“I’m making you two,” he warns. “You don’t have to eat it all, but it’ll be there if you want it.”

“Thank you. For everything today, not just this. I know you took the day off work to help me out, and I appreciate it.”

“I love you,” he says simply. “If you need me, I’m here.”

And that’s exactly, exactly what I needed from Carter. But now I know where I stand. I know I’ll never hear those words from him.

Chapter Eighteen

~Carter~

I don’t know what the fuck just happened.

I’m standing at the window, hands shoved in my pockets and the echo of the door slamming still in the air around me.

She’s pregnant.

And it’s not medically possible that it’s mine.

“Jesus.” I rub my hand over my neck. I thought I knew her. I thought what we had was solid and true.

How did I judge the whole situation so damn poorly?

“You.”

I turn and watch as Sienna marches into my office, her eyes shooting daggers at me.

“I don’t have time to—”

“You’ll make the goddamn time,” she interrupts and points to my chair. “Sit.”

I look at Finn and Quinn, who followed her into the room, rushing to keep up with her.

Sienna’s a little thing, but she moves fast when she wants to and she can be damn intimidating.

It’s why she’s such a good attorney.

Finn shrugs and Quinn just sits on the couch across the room, and I find myself following Sienna’s direction, lowering slowly into my own chair.

“You’re being charged with hurting someone I care about,” she says, pacing in front of my desk. “What’s your plea?”

“Guilty,” I mutter. “But I don’t have time to talk to you—”

“You won’t speak unless you’re answering my questions,” she says and I glance at the guys again, but again, they shrug.

“Now, tell the court what happened last night.”

I frown. “Last night?”

“That’s what I said.”

“Objection,” Finn says, coming to my defense. Quinn winces. “What does that have to do with the matter at hand?”

“I’m laying groundwork,” Sienna replies coolly and turns her gaze to me. “Answer me, please.”

“Nora found what she believed to be a lump in her breast.”

All their eyes go round, and Finn’s face pales.

“Fuck,” Quinn mutters.

“And I was an asshole about it,” I volunteer. “It scared me, okay? It was déjà vu. Suddenly the woman I love is making me feel for a lump, which I can also feel, and it fucking terrified me.”

“Understandable,” Sienna says softly. “But through the fear, you reassured her, right? You hugged her and said everything would be okay. You made her feel treasured.”

“Objection,” Quinn says. “Leading the witness.”

“I clammed up and barely spoke to her,” I admit. “She asked me to go to her appointment with her this afternoon, and I told her I was too busy.”

“Jesus, you are a jerk,” Sienna says with a roll of the eyes. “Then what happened?”

“She returned from the appointment and told me that it isn’t cancer.”

“Thank God,” Finn says. “So everything’s fine then, right?”

“It wasn’t when I ran into Nora at the elevator,” Sienna says, her eyes narrowed and focused on mine. “Nothing seemed to be okay at all.”

“What did she say?” I ask, standing. “Was she crying?”

“I’m asking the questions.”

“Fuck that. Tell me if she was okay.”

“Of course she wasn’t okay, you idiot. She was upset, but she wasn’t crying. Yet.”

I cringe and pace to the window again.

“If she doesn’t have cancer, why was she upset?” Quinn asks.

“She’s pregnant,” I reply, the words dry cardboard on my tongue.

“Whoa.” I turn at Finn’s voice. “Well, it’s a surprise, but we all love kids.”

“I asked her who the father is.”

All three pairs of eyes stare at me as if I just told them my name is Sylvia.

“I’m so glad you don’t share DNA with this man,” Sienna says to Quinn, who doesn’t take his eyes off mine. “What the hell do you mean?” Sienna asks. “Of course it’s yours.”