“Is it?”
“No. Maybe my feelings got deeper, faster because of the baby, but I loved her before I ever knew what we’d made.”
“Then find a way to make her see she’s enough.”
Chapter 16
Tess’s whole body ached. Probably because she’d cried out every remaining ounce of fluid after her father left. Then she’d forced herself to guzzle more water, thinking dehydration was probably bad for the baby. She’d caught only snatches of sleep, and those had been full of Mitch and his agonized expression as she’d run from him.
Coward.
The echo of the accusation was still with her as she crawled out of bed just after the sun. And why shouldn’t it be? She was a coward, too terrified to face him and lay her heart bare, lest it not be enough.
Uncomfortable with the truth of it, Tess forced herself straight into work. The job had always been her salvation, the place she was in control. After the past few weeks, she needed to be in control of something. But after following up on the Picadilly project with her crew in London, she couldn’t seem to find enough focus for anything else. The incubator was on hold until Brody called to schedule the walk-through, and she wasn’t in any shape to get involved in anything else.
Mitch hadn’t called or come by. And what did she expect? She’d run. How many times could she leave this man behind and expect him to still want to follow? She’d wanted—needed—space after the debacle of that family dinner. But distance hadn’t made her feel any better and sure as hell hadn’t brought any clarity.
Because she had no idea what else to do, Tess upended the suitcase on her bed and began to methodically smooth and fold, repacking the stuff she’d just thrown into the bag last night. She recognized it for the false sense of order it was but continued the familiar ritual because she needed to control something, anything, no matter how small.
At the knock on the penthouse door, she dropped the blouse she was folding.
Mitch.
Her heart leapt, even as her feet closed the distance and her hand closed over the knob.
It wasn’t Mitch.
It was an army of Campbell women. Sandy, Norah, Cecily, Miranda, Grammy, Anita, and even Mitch’s mother were all crowded in the hall. What the hell were they all doing here?
Only a lifetime of etiquette lessons kept her from simply shutting the door in their faces and hiding.
“We’re sorry to disturb you,” Norah began.
“No we’re not,” Miranda said. “We need to talk to you.” She didn’t wait for an invitation before edging her way into the penthouse.
“Please, come in,” Tess muttered.
Liz heaved a sigh as she followed. “I swear she wasn’t raised in a barn.”
Knowing there’d be no getting rid of them until they’d said whatever it was they came here to say, Tess stepped back to open the door fully. Once they’d all filed inside, she shut it and fell into hostess mode. “Can I offer you coffee or tea?”
What am I doing? I don’t want them to stay.
“There’s no need to go to any trouble,” Sandy said.
An awkward silence draped over the room. Tess couldn’t resist the compulsion to fill it. “I’m sorry for the…scene…yesterday.”
Grammy waved that off. “Oh honey, if we didn’t have a spectacle once a month, something would be wrong.”
What the hell was she supposed to say to that? Tess dug deep, trying to find some kind of normal something she could fall back on, but it was simply beyond her just now. “If you’re here to plead Mitch’s case—”
“No. We’re here to support you,” Sandy said.
“I—what?”
“Let me start, because if this kumbaya session runs long, I’ve got to get to the clinic to open.” Miranda crossed her arms. “Yesterday was incredibly difficult for you, and we want to apologize collectively if we made it worse.”
“I’m reasonably sure I did that all by myself.”