The Pitch: City Love 2 (27 page)

Christa, Max, Cate and Scarlett turned up after the ultrasound. They looked as stricken as I felt.

Scarlett marched up to my bed – I’d been relocated into a ward – and grabbed my hand. I was surprised by her need for contact, but grateful for it. Paul had been keeping his distance and was standing in the corner of the room, while the others crowded around my bed.

Scarlett looked down at me. “We won’t stay long. We just wanted to check if you’re alright. Both of you.”

Cate nodded from behind Scarlett. She looked like she was trying hard not to burst into tears.

“We’re both alright.” I forced a smile on to my face. “The overnight stay is just a precaution.” I’d already told them that the bleeding had been minimal. As the obstetrician had explained to me, occasional bleeding at this early stage was a possibility, regardless of my fall. It was recommended I stay overnight under observation.

Christa pushed her way to my bed. “I’m sorry about earlier.” She quickly glanced at Paul, then back at me. “I understand.”

We looked at each other in silence. I could tell she wanted to say more and ask questions, but we both knew now wasn’t the time.

“Do you need Max and me to drop past your apartment and pick up a change of clothes?” she asked.

Paul cleared his throat. “I’d appreciate it if you could. I’ve got a babysitter at my place tonight looking after the boys, and I need to get back home before too long.”

It was the first I’d heard about it, but then he’d hardly said anything since his outburst.

Max stepped forward, concern lines creasing his forehead. “No problem, mate. I’ll drive Christa over there when we leave.”

Paul nodded gratefully. He looked exhausted. Finding out you were going to be a dad when you had no intention of ever becoming one again could do that to you, I thought unkindly.

My friends stayed for only another couple of minutes. Christa and Max left with a promise to return within the hour to drop off some of my things. Paul waited until they’d gone before turning to face me.

He stared at me for a long moment and I didn’t bother to speak, because I didn’t know what to say.

Eventually he took a step closer to the bed, but stopped out of arm’s reach. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

I nodded.

He exhaled slowly. “I’m sorry, but I need to get home.”

I nodded again.

“What time do you need me to come and pick you up tomorrow?” he asked.

“Don’t worry, Max will do it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

He looked like he was about to insist, but something made him stay quiet. The silence between us stretched uncomfortably before Paul finally cleared his throat. “I’ll call you when you get home tomorrow.”

“Sure.”

He hesitated, then closed the distance to the bed. He leaned over and kissed me softly on the forehead. When he stepped back, I couldn’t read his expression.

“Try to get some rest,” he said.

I watched as he walked from the room. I lay staring at the door long after he was gone.

With a shaky sigh, I rolled onto my good side, careful to avoid the hip that had made contact with the floor. I knew I should stay awake for when Christa and Max returned with my things, but my body felt drained of all energy.

I reached to the bedside table for my phone. I quickly texted Christa, telling her to drop my things in my room if I was asleep. I also asked if she and Max could pick me up in the morning. She replied almost immediately in the affirmative. She may not have typed it, but I could hear the question in the blank space of her text message.

What about Paul?

I closed my eyes, trying to shut out the events of the last few hours. The images flooded my thoughts anyway. Paul grinning while he expertly played the guitar I had given him. Me and my friends dancing. Feeling sick and nauseous, and then the blurry, frightening moments before the fall. Paul’s calm when I needed to get to the hospital. His quiet support. Then his words, repeating over and over again like a mantra in my mind.

Of course I don’t want any more children, of course I don’t want any more children, of course I don’t want any more children …

*

“I think you’re reading too much into it,” Christa said.

It was Saturday morning and Max and Christa had just dropped me home to my apartment. Max had left me alone with Christa while he went for a jog. I wasn’t stupid. I knew he was clearing the area so Christa could make sure I was okay.

“I know what I heard,” I replied. I’d already filled her in about our brief conversation at the hospital the night before.

“You need to give him some time.”

I watched her from my reclined position on the couch as she finished making us both cups of tea. I was dying for a coffee but figured it was time I cut down on the caffeine. Besides, I didn’t need to be any more wired right now. I was on edge. My night in the hospital had proved exhausting. I’d found it hard to drift off with all the unfamiliar sounds of a busy maternity ward, not to mention the crying babies. When I had slept, my dreams were laced with feelings of fear and doubt.

Christa walked over to the couch and passed me my cup of tea, then sat down beside me.

“Thanks.”

We were silent for a while. The late morning glare flooded into my apartment and I watched the boats bobbing in the glistening harbor. It was a beautiful summer’s day. Ordinarily I’d take advantage of the weather and spend the morning going for a long walk, basking in the heat. Today it wasn’t even a remote possibility. I’d been advised to keep my physical activity low for the next few days, and I didn’t feel like doing anything anyway. Right now I just wanted to hibernate.

I could feel Christa watching me. “He’s in shock,” she said.

“I know.”

“I mean, you’re still coming to terms with it yourself. That’s why you didn’t tell anyone, isn’t it?”

“Partially.”

“You never even thought you could fall pregnant,” Christa mused.

“Tell me about it.” I took a sip of the warm liquid and let it heat my mouth until it tingled.

“And Paul never thought he’d have any more kids.”

I swallowed and turned to her. “Just because I’m pregnant doesn’t change the fact he doesn’t want any more children.”

Christa sighed. “He’s not going to abandon you, Maddy.”

“No,” I agreed, “that’s not his style. But I don’t want it to be about a sense of obligation.”

“Give him time then.”

I set my cup of tea down on the coffee table. “What? Until he finally comes around?”

“He will,” Christa promised.

“But I don’t want it to be like that!” I cried. All the exhaustion and hopelessness about my situation pooled in my stomach, so I stood, hoping movement would dispel it. It didn’t dispel the anger. “Don’t you see? It’s like I’m the butt of some cruel joke. I finally find a man I love, who I was starting to imagine spending the rest of my life with. I was even going to take on the role of stepmother to his children to make it work.”

I exhaled a shaky breath and sat back down. “And then I fall pregnant.” I shot a tortured look at my friend. “I want this child more than you can imagine and I live in fear that something might go wrong. Yet I’m left thinking it would have been so much better for my life and Paul’s life if it hadn’t happened. Do you know how that makes me feel?”

Christa nodded, her blue eyes filled with sympathy.

“I want Paul to be with me because he loves me, not out of duty to a child he doesn’t even want.” I sniffed and swiped some tears away with my hand. “So I’ll do it alone if I have to.”

Confusion crossed Christa’s face. “You don’t need to. You love Paul and he loves you – ”

“But if he can’t love this child, then I’ll leave.”

“You just need to give him time,” Christa said again.

“How much time does someone need? I knew, Christa. Even in the doctor’s office, I knew I wanted this baby. I couldn’t fathom – still can’t fathom – how I’m going to make it work, how Grounded Marketing will keep running, but I knew.”

“That’s because this is an unexpected miracle for you, Maddy. It’s totally different for Paul.”

“Exactly.”

“You can’t blame him for being shocked.”

“I’m not blaming him for being shocked. I’m shocked by his honesty,” I said numbly.

“And he’d just watched the woman he loves collapse in the middle of a crowded bar!” Christa leaned forward, her blue eyes heated. “Then he discovers you’re pregnant! Give the guy a break.”

“I am,” I replied. “I’m going to give him the break he deserves.”

Christa shook her head at me. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m going to allow him to walk. I’ll take full responsibility for this child, he doesn’t even need to be involved if he doesn’t want to.”

“This isn’t a business deal, Madeleine! And do you think it might be a good idea to actually have a proper conversation with him first before you decide on his behalf?”

Christa rarely used my full name. It was a sign of how exasperated she was, but I didn’t care. I finally felt as though I was starting to make sense of the situation. “He’s told me all I need to know, and I need to prepare myself.”

“He
loves
you!”

“And I love him, but that’s not always enough.”

Christa actually growled in frustration at me. “Those pregnancy hormones are doing seriously weird things to your brain – ”

“My brain is fine.”

“Well, to your emotions then.”

“The only thing the pregnancy hormones have done to my brain is to make me realize something extremely important.”

Christa sighed. “And what’s that?”

“As much as I love Paul, I love this baby more.”

Paul called just after midday on Saturday, not long after Christa had left.

“How are you?” he asked. I could hear the boys in the background. It sounded like Noah was annoying Jack.

I wondered if “you” included the baby. “Better.”

“Do you need anything? I’m with the boys, but we could drop around and bring you some lunch. Do you need any other supplies?”

The thought of playing happy families with him and his boys right now was more than I could bear. “No. Thanks. I’ve got food here and I’m just going to rest. I’ll probably have a nap.”

“Did you want to come here for dinner, then? I can pick you up.”

“I don’t really feel like going anywhere this weekend.”

There was a beat of silence at the other end. “Alright. You’ll let me know if you need anything?”

“Okay.” I bit my lip. There were so many words on the tip of my tongue, but for some reason I couldn’t find the courage to speak them. Not after the hospital on Friday night.

I thought I heard him sigh, but I could have been imagining it. “I’ll call you on Monday.”

I stared at the phone for a long time after he’d hung up.

*

Monday morning I was at work bright and early. I’d rested all weekend and was starting to feel more like myself again – more like the pregnant version of myself anyway. Thankfully there’d been no more bleeding. I was now sporting an impressive multi-colored bruise on my forehead though. Concealer was my best friend.

I’d discovered long ago when I was recovering from the tumultuous break up with Chris that distraction was therapeutic. I threw myself into work with a ferocity that had my mother watching me carefully from her desk all day. We spoke little, just the necessary conversations, until four pm when she knocked on my door. This was her signal that she wanted to talk.

I waved her in, my eyes still on the creative brief I was in the middle of approving.

She cleared her throat and I looked up.

“The campaign is live, you know.” She was referring to the ACB account.

“I know. I’ve neglected a lot of other things in the meantime. I’m just trying to catch up.”

“It looks like you’re trying to neglect other things as well.”

“Oh?”

“Paul’s been calling all day.” There was an undercurrent of disapproval in her voice.

“I’ll talk to him tonight. I’m busy.”

Paul had called my mobile several times and I hadn’t answered. He’d then called my mother directly, which just pissed me right off. She might be my PA, but that wasn’t the point.

“He’s worried about you. After your fall on Friday night.”

I’d told my mother about the fall. There was no way I could fully hide the evidence, no matter the amount of concealer I applied. Naturally I’d left out the bit about being pregnant and I’d sworn everyone else to secrecy. Max hadn’t liked it, but he liked it better when I was being nice to him.

“I’ll talk to him tonight,” I repeated.

“Is everything alright?”

“I’d rather not talk about it.”

My mother’s lips pressed themselves into a long thin line. “He’s a good man, Madeleine.”

Why did everyone have to keep reminding me of that? “I know.”

She sighed. “Have it your way. I just hope he’s also a patient man.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

My mother gave me a long look. “You know exactly what it means.”

“No, actually, I don’t.”

“You have very high standards, my dear. Often that means you push people away.”

I arched an eyebrow. “I didn’t realize high standards were such a bad thing.”

“They’re not, but it’s clear he’s done something to have fallen short of those standards. Is it really a deal breaker? Or can you perhaps try to compromise?”

I almost laughed, but managed to catch myself. “It’s a deal breaker.”

“Oh, Madeleine.” The disappointment in her voice was evident. “Sometimes I think you prefer to be alone.”

“
Mother.”

“I also think you deliberately keep your standards high to protect yourself. That way you don’t have to let anyone in.”

“Thanks for the advice.” Which was my polite way of telling her to leave.

She narrowed her eyes at me. “Ask yourself this: is the price of protection more important than the chance of happiness with a man who loves you?”

“You can leave now. And please close the door on your way out.”

She shook her head, then did as I requested, leaving me alone in the silence of my office.

*

Despite my best efforts to distract myself, by six o’clock I was tired enough to call it a day. Old school Madeleine would have worked until at least nine in a vicious frenzy of activity, but I was learning pregnant Madeleine was a different story. I shut down my computer and started gathering my things. I was so busy fantasizing about a lazy evening on the couch watching mindless television that I didn’t notice Paul.

“How long are you going to keep avoiding me?”

I looked up, startled, to find his tall form leaning against the door. I swallowed, his presence hitting me harder than I could have anticipated. He was wearing one of his navy business suits and he’d loosened the tie. His hair was a little scruffy, but somehow it only added to his appeal. A vision of him playing the guitar on Friday night popped into my mind.

Damn it. It was so much easier to avoid him when he wasn’t in the same room as me. Having him here made the dull ache I’d been doing a very good job of pushing away, resurface.

“I’m not avoiding you,” I replied. “I’ve just been busy.”

Paul raised his eyebrows, a flicker of heat flaring in his eyes. “I got that.”

I didn’t say anything. I busied myself with collecting my things again.

“Come and have dinner with me.”

“I’m tired.”

Although I wasn’t looking at him, I heard him approach my desk. “It wasn’t a request.”

“Really? That’s nice. What about the boys?”

“They’re with their grandparents tonight.”

I didn’t reply. Instead, I swung my bag over my shoulder and headed toward the door. Paul grabbed my arm as I swept past.

“Madeleine.”

I made a show of staring at his hand, which was tightly gripping my arm. It wasn’t hard enough to hurt, but it was firm. He released me.

“We need to talk,” he said softly.

“What about?”

Genuine anger flared in his eyes this time. “You know what about.”

“You’ve made your feelings pretty clear on the subject.” I gave him a hard look and started for the elevators.

I heard him swear under his breath and he followed closely behind. I was conscious of a few sets of curious eyes belonging to several of my staff as we crossed the open plan area of Grounded Marketing.

Paul waited until we were alone in the elevator before speaking again. “I was in shock on Friday night.”

I nodded, staring at the display as it counted down the floors to the ground level.

“I’m not going to walk away from you, or the child you’re carrying.”

“I didn’t expect you would.”

Confusion crossed Paul’s tired features, but I didn’t allow myself to feel sorry for him.

“Then why are you being so cold?” he asked.

The anger I’d been working hard to clamp down on, reared. I swung around to face him. “Because I’m not an obligation to be met.”

“How could you even think that?”

“Then tell me you want this child,” I demanded.

Paul opened his mouth to speak at the same time the elevator dinged for the ground floor. His momentary hesitation was the only answer I required. I stalked from the elevator. I dodged between the other people in the building foyer, my heels echoing loudly.

Paul caught up as I waited at a set of infuriatingly slow pedestrian traffic lights. He took my elbow, more gently this time, and leaned down close to speak directly in my ear.

“I’m not going to leave you.”

I closed my eyes and when I opened them again, the pedestrian light was flashing green. I shook free of Paul’s grasp and turned to look at him. “But you don’t really want this child. So I’m leaving
you
.”

I stepped quickly into the street, disappearing into the crowd of evening commuters, leaving Paul standing open-mouthed on the footpath.