“Yes, doctor, of course. I can come in tomorrow, late afternoon?”
“Perfect, see you then.”
You’re pregnant…I’m pregnant? Yes, you’re pregnant. But I can’t be pregnant. I assure you that you are.
Reason and madness took turns screaming at each other in my head. This was an absolute nightmare. A baby. Sebastian’s baby. Oh, dear God. Sebastian would freak out. He hadn’t even recovered from the last woman he knocked up, and now he had to deal with me.
I looked down at my belly, felt beneath the apron of my uniform where the intruder was hiding. Flat as always. My hands cupped my breasts. Definitely larger, fuller. And then the puzzle came together slowly, the irrational moodiness, the weight gain, the constant crying. Some doctor I would make––I couldn’t even figure out what was going on with my own body.
I thought I heard a noise, looked behind me again, and discovered a small bird perched on the net wrapped around the tomato plants. I suddenly felt drained, tired beyond anything. My entire body sagged, collapsing under the weight of my troubles. I walked back to the kitchen dragging my toes.
Mrs. Arnaud took one look at me and her carefree smile melted into a frown. “Chérie, you look tired. Would you like to go lie down?”
“Yes, madame,” I said dejectedly, “just for a little while.”
I could feel her scrutiny as I dragged myself through the kitchen, towards my old room. I lay in bed staring at the dust motes dancing in a shaft of sunlight with my hands resting on the complication. It was so hard to imagine that life was growing there. I didn’t feel that different, except for a protective streak starting to build within me. Strange how that happens automatically.
I never considered children. A baby never crossed my mind. I had so many plans, so many things I wanted to accomplish. I was never like other women whose sole purpose in life was to raise a family. Thank God they were out there, but I wasn’t one of them. A baby was always some faraway, abstract concept for me.
Unbidden, an image of a dark haired little boy with amber eyes flirted through my mind. Oh, no. This is how it starts, how one throws away a lifetime of work…for…for love. Tears welled up, annoying and perfectly normal, considering. How in the world was I going to tell Sebastian? It seemed like every time we stepped over one insurmountable load of crap, a larger one presented itself.
I sat up at the soft knock at the door. Before I could respond, he entered, looking more settled than he had that morning. I was relieved. I wouldn’t be much help to him in the present state. He threw his suit jacket on the chair and sat on the edge of the bed. The shaft of early evening sunlight illuminated his eyes, accentuating the gold and green flecks.
“Why aren’t you in our room?” he asked as he stroked my face with aching gentleness. I turned my face into his palm and let the heat of his hand settle my nerves. I melted under his touch, my senses heightened by all the hormones pumping through my blood. Closing my eyes, I planted a kiss there.
“What’s wrong, baby? Marianne said you weren’t feeling well.”
Baby…that endearment more pertinent than ever.
“Did you get any more information from Interpol?”
“Gideon is handling it. I don’t want you to worry about it. Do you have a temperature?”
He placed his large palm on my forehead.
“No, just tired. Dr. Rossetti’s office called. I have to go back for more tests tomorrow afternoon. The blood tests were…inconclusive.”
Frowning, a new sense of focus entered his eyes. “Anything we need to worry about?”
“No, darling. Nothing to worry about.”
He narrowed his eyes skeptically. “I don’t like this. Maybe you should see my doctor.” The lack of energy made me irritable. I was in no state to debate him.
“Sebastian, I beg you, please, let’s not argue. What time is it?”
“Six-thirty.”
“I’d like to have dinner, take a bath, and go to bed early.”
“Anything you want,” he said as he raked his fingers through my hair. “Just promise me something.”
“What?” I asked guardedly.
“I want everything out of here and moved into our bedroom. And I want to come with you tomorrow and meet this doctor you seem to think so highly of.”
Anxiety came rushing back. I still hadn’t worked out how I was going to tell him.
“Yes to the room. No to the doctor’s appointment.” I swung my legs off the bed and tried to put some distance between us, but he caught me in his arms before I could escape.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m a grown woman, and you have to begin trusting that I know how to take care of myself. We need boundaries,” I said curtly. The wounded look on his face made me hate myself for a minute. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to sound like such a bitch, please don’t argue. If it’s anything serious, you’ll be the first to know.”