“And yes, I was on the Pill.”
“So you went off the Pill when you got married.”
She could lie. She had to lie.
To do anything else would compound the mess they’d made. And yet…lying would be wrong.
“No, I got pregnant while I was on it.”
He froze. “You…but…how?”
“I’d been on an antibiotic. According to my ob-gyn, they sometimes make the pill less effective.”
“When did you start taking the antibiotic?” He still wasn’t moving. And the look he was giving her was intense enough to burn.
She took a shaky breath. “The week before you and I…before Bruce…before…”
They could not be having this conversation! It had been avoided for five years, had been unnecessary all that time. He’d used a condom. She’d needed to believe that.
The idea of messing with their status quo unhinged her a bit.
“She’s not yours.” Her gaze met his in the mirror and she was surprised to see a hint of relief on his face. A softening of his features.
“He had her tested? With brothers, it’s better if you have DNA from both, but as long as you had his, yours and hers, the test should’ve been conclusive.”
There’d been no test. She’d begged Bruce, completely certain that Brianna was his. She couldn’t have conceived with Mason. She’d only had sex with him once. Bruce had taken her to bed at least once a day back then. Sometimes more.
But he’d refused to have DNA tests done to prove his paternity, saying the test didn’t matter. Brianna was his. She’d wondered at the time if he’d been afraid of the minute possibility that she wasn’t his and had let it go. They were related by blood in either case. She’d told herself that was all that mattered.
“You seem relieved.” She certainly hadn’t expected him to worry about the situation. Or even consider the outside possibility. Especially since she’d told him she was on the Pill and she’d been so sure he’d worn a condom.
“For the past four years I’ve been working hard not to think about the possibility that I could be missing out on every aspect of my daughter’s life.” He was on to reps of lifting the weights straight up from his shoulder. “To go with the fact that you’d said you were on the Pill. To trust that you’d been telling the truth.”
She started to say he could have called. Then remembered why he hadn’t. He was a man of his word. A man who’d done what he thought he had to do to keep his family together.
Still, that first day, or even the next, before she’d told Bruce… There’d been no supposed agreement then.
Climbing an elliptical mountain, one that threatened to be too high for her to scale, she was reeling at the idea that he’d been mourning the years he might have missed of his child’s life. His possible child. She wouldn’t have wished that on anyone, least of all Mason.
“I’d have sent you pictures, whatever, if I’d known you were interested. You’re her uncle. She should know you…” It felt like too little too late.
Putting down the weights, he stood for a couple of minutes, watching in the mirror as she climbed and got nowhere. She’d never had another person in the small gym with her. Mason filled the space, much like he’d filled her entire world that one night—like her own personal dark and very private fairy tale.
When he bent to pick up the weights again, to begin another rep of curls, she got an eyeful of his backside—and quickly looked away. She couldn’t tell if he’d caught her again. She was too busy pretending it hadn’t happened.
“So…”
When no other words followed, she looked over, catching his gaze in the mirror. She raised her eyebrows in question, rather than speaking. He might not be getting winded, but she was. More than normal.
“You never confirmed. Did you and Bruce have paternity tests run?”
Harper swallowed. Got off the elliptical. Considered forgoing the rest of the night’s workout. Considered lying to Mason. What would he do if he knew the truth? Keep wondering what he could be missing? Or, God forbid, force a paternity test?