After All - Romancing Manhattan

All four of us chuckle.

“You do realize you just threatened a room full of attorneys,” Finn says. “You heard him. Gather your things and go.”

She glares, then stomps away.

“That was a long time coming,” Sienna says. “That woman has had it out for Nora for months. Good riddance.”

“It’s about time I protect my woman,” I say, my voice grim. “I’m embarrassed to admit I haven’t been good at that up to now.”

“You can make it right,” Sienna assures me.

“Maybe just give her cash,” Quinn says thoughtfully. “I wonder if a hundred grand would be enough?”

“I’ll give her whatever she wants, if she’ll just forgive me.”

“Go get her, tiger,” Sienna says, giving me the thumbs-up. “You’ve got this.”

I don’t have this.

I mean, I do have the ring in my pocket, a huge bouquet of white roses, and Nora’s favorite cupcakes from Magnolia for good measure.

I’m loaded down with offerings of apology.

Now I just have to make her see that I didn’t mean anything that I said. I have to make it right.

I pound on her door and then press my ear to it, listening. I don’t hear any movement. Where else would she go? She’s not at my place, I was just there to retrieve the ring.

I bang again and wait.

Nothing.

Finally, I dial her number and continue to bang on the door.

“I don’t want to talk to you,” she says into my ear.

“Open the door, Nora. Please.”

“I’m not home, you big jerk. Why do you want to talk to a cheater like me, anyway?”

I wince. “I deserved that. Please, darling. Please let me make this right. I need to talk to you.”

She hangs up without another word, and I slump against the door in defeat.

She’s not here, and she doesn’t want to hear what I have to say.

I’m screwed.

The elevator doors open at the end of the hall, and she comes marching out, her mouth set in a grim line and her brown eyes narrowed, not looking directly at me.

When she reaches the door, she pushes me out of the way and walks right in.

“The door wasn’t locked? Nora, you shouldn’t leave your apartment unlocked. You don’t know what kind of whack job might just walk right in.”

“Like you?” she counters, leaning on the kitchen island. “Are you really going to lecture me about anything right now?”

I take a deep breath and slowly let it out. “No. You’re right. I brought these for you.”

I hold the cupcakes and flowers out for her, but she just spares them a glance, looks up at me, and doesn’t walk forward to take them.

Okay.

I set everything on the countertop and pace away, shoving my fingers through my hair in agitation.

“I fucked up.”

“Big-time,” she agrees.

“I know. I was wrong.”

“Which time?”

“Excuse me?”

She walks around the island, toward me. “Which time, exactly, were you wrong? Was it last night, when I was worried and I went to you, looking for support? Or this morning, when I asked you to go to the doctor with me, and you lied to me about your schedule being full? I’m the one who fills your schedule, Carter. I know you had the time.”

“Well, I—”

“I’m not done.” She digs her pointy little finger into my chest. “Christopher went with me, by the way. Not that you care.”

“I care.”

She shakes her head and walks away. “Or were you wrong when I got back to the office, and you didn’t even fucking ask me how the appointment went? I had to basically beg you to care.”

Jesus, I’m so ashamed.

“I had my walls up because I was scared.”

“I get it,” she says with a nod. “I know what you’ve been through in the past, and I understand. I really do. In that moment in your office, when you finally apologized for being cold, and admitted to being afraid, I totally forgave you for the previous eighteen hours, without a problem.”

“You did?”

“Of course.” She throws her hands up in frustration and paces away. “I’m not stupid, Carter. You lost your wife to cancer, of course you were scared. We both have some baggage, and it’s going to rear its ugly head once in a while.”

She’s right. We do. And no matter how much we think we’ve moved on, there will be bad moments from time to time.

“Here’s what I don’t forgive,” she continues and I brace myself because I’m quite sure what’s coming is going to knock me on my ass. “I told you I’m pregnant.”

Her eyes fill with tears, and I move to hold her, but she scurries away, out of my reach.

“Damn it, Nora.”

“I told you I’m pregnant, and rather than ask me questions like ‘How is this possible?’ or ‘Are you sure?,’ you asked me who the father is.”

A tear slips down her cheek.

“You accused me of something that I hate so much, something that ruined my first marriage. How could you possibly think after the past weeks together that I would ever want anyone else? And not only that, how in the bloody hell could I find time to fuck someone else? I’m with you twenty-four/seven, for God’s sake!”