Fairytale Not Required

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Fairytale Not Required Page 9

by Stephanie Rowe


  “No,” she whispered. “Go away.” She moved her hand quickly, and Jason saw a flash of white in her grasp before she hid it behind her back.

  For a long second, his mind went blank with shock as he struggled to process what he’d just seen. The white stick? He felt his throat close up and he stared at her. “Astrid?”

  “No. Go away.” She scrambled to her feet and stumbled over a box.

  Jason leapt across the tiny room and caught her before she fell. Her body felt too bony and frail beneath his hands, and her skin was icy cold. She sucked in her breath and pulled back, and as she did, something fell from her hand.

  He caught it before it hit the ground, and the moment his fingers closed around the hard plastic, he knew what it was. Slowly, he looked down at it and saw a white window.

  In the window was a blue plus sign.

  Griffin’s words leapt into Jason’s mind. Never. Astrid never slept with anyone.

  Except Jason.

  He was the only one she’d been with, and he was holding a positive result pregnancy test in his hand.

  Son of a bitch. She was pregnant with his child.

  *

  Astrid saw the shock on Jason’s features. She knew that he’d realized what was in his hand, and what it meant. She went still, her body going numb as she waited for the inevitable words, the same ones that Paul had given her when he’d realized she was pregnant with his child. The demand for ownership and control. The offer of marriage. All of it meaningless, using her as a pawn for him to get what he wanted: his child.

  She lifted her chin and faced Jason, preparing for the battle.

  But Jason didn’t say anything. He just stood there staring at the test for what felt like forever. Finally he looked up, and she saw the stunned expression on his face. It was so stark, so surprised, so at a loss, that she started laughing. Not a laugh of joy and bliss. The laughter of shared pain and shock, which was yet another connection between them that seemed to close the chasm she’d tried so hard to create. “I know,” she said softly. “That’s exactly how I feel.”

  “Jesus, Astrid.” Jason ran his hand through his hair, and suddenly he didn’t look like a threatening male who would prey on her. He looked like a guy who was standing on quicksand and had no idea which way led to safety.

  Slowly, some of her fear began to ease. She sat back down on the bed, her legs still trembling from the shock of finding out. She’d read the results only minutes before Jason had walked in, and she was still shaken, still trying to grasp the enormity of the situation. “Aren’t you going to ask if it’s yours?”

  “No.” Jason shoved the stick in his back pocket and clasped his hands on top of his head, his biceps bunching. His tee shirt was covered in white splotches that matched the streaks on his jeans, and she knew he’d been at the cafe working. “Of course it’s mine.”

  “Oh.” Something warm fluttered in Astrid’s chest, something that made her feel good. Based on what he’d seen of her, making love with a stranger on the day she’d met him, he’d have been justified in wondering whether he was part of a long line of one night stands.

  But she could tell the thought hadn’t even occurred to him. He’d absolutely, instantly, without a moment’s hesitation, believed that she had been with no one else.

  Paul had taken a paternity test before he’d been willing to accept that the woman he’d been dating for over a year hadn’t been sleeping around on him.

  Jason hadn’t even hesitated, and the thought made her throat tighten. No one saw her in that kind of light, a woman so honorable that he would trust her automatically, despite all evidence to the contrary. It felt so incredible, this gift that made her heart actually ache, his absolute belief in who she was. It made her want to ask him to wrap her up in his arms and hold her so tightly that she’d never have to breathe on her own again.

  Which of course she couldn’t do. She had learned her lesson about relying on anyone else, and she thought she was used to it. Until Jason made her want more by being so damned nice to her.

  Damn him for having faith in her.

  With a muttered curse, Jason turned away and walked over to the window. He braced his hands on the window frame and looked out over the garage, his body rigid with tension. Saying nothing. Giving away nothing. Astrid’s initial relief that he hadn’t launched into a series of threats began to fade, replaced by increasing trepidation. What was he thinking? What was he going to do? She couldn’t tell at all.

  The silence loomed threateningly in the small room, and Astrid’s heart began to pound again as the reality of her situation began to descend upon her. She was pregnant. Sweat broke out on her skin, and suddenly she felt hot. Her head began to buzz, and the room began to spin. Her mouth was pasty dry, and suddenly she started to pant, unable to get her breath. It’s going to be okay. It’s going to be okay. But she couldn’t stop the growing panic, the terror trying to take her. She waved her hand at her face, trying to cool herself, trying to ground herself.

  “Shit, Astrid. Lie down.” Jason was suddenly beside her, his hands on her shoulders, supporting her.

  “No.” She tried to brush his hands off, feeling trapped by his touch. “Let go of me.”

  “Hey, I’m not going to hurt you.” His voice was gentle, but his grip was unrelenting. “You’re going to pass out if you don’t lie down.”

  “I’m fine.” She bent forward, putting her head between her knees, as she fought for breath, trying not to think, trying to blank her mind so she couldn’t process anything that was happening. But the room began to spin more, and suddenly she felt herself falling forward. The floor rushed up toward her, and she tried to brace herself as Jason swept her up in his arms, catching her before she face planted onto the stained floorboards.

  He deposited her on the bed before she could protest, pinning her shoulders to the mattress when she fought to get up. “Stay,” he ordered. “For two minutes. Just stay.”

  “Let me go,” she gasped, panicking at his grip. “I can’t do this—-”

  “Astrid.” He leaned over her and caught her chin, forcing her to look at him. “It’s me,” he said softly. “You’re safe. Just take a deep breath. I’m not going to hurt you. No one is. Okay?”

  His voice was so gentle, his touch so soothing, that it broke through the panic threatening to consume her. She stared at him and saw only genuine concern in his dark eyes. His brow was furrowed, and he was gently stroking her hair. There was no threat from him, no domination. He wasn’t going to hurt her.

  “Yeah, see? It’s all good. Can you lie still for a couple minutes?”

  His voice was so kind that Astrid’s fear finally slid away, and she sagged into the mattress, her body too exhausted to hold on anymore. “Okay.” She closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath, concentrating on the feel of his hands caressing her shoulders. His touch was warm and strong, and some of the panic began to ease from her.

  For a long moment, neither of them spoke, and the only sound Astrid could hear was the pounding of her heart and her own breathing. She concentrated on each breath and on Jason’s soothing touch. Eventually, her breathing slowed and the trembling eased. She opened her eyes, and saw Jason sitting beside her. He was watching her carefully, his dark eyes hooded with resolve. It was the expression of a man who had decided to take what he deemed to be his.

  A new fear rippled through her, and she sat up abruptly, suddenly needing to be on her feet, not sprawled helplessly in a bed beside him. He didn’t stop her, but he caught her hips as she scooted past him, helping her to her feet. Her skin seemed to burn from his touch, and she quickly moved away from him to perch on the trunk she used as a window seat.

  Jason didn’t take his gaze off her, and she met his stare. “I don’t want anything from you,” she said. “I’m leaving in the morning. This isn’t your problem.”

  “My problem?” Anger suddenly flashed across his face, and his jaw jutted out. “Is that what you consider a child? A problem?” />
  She froze, shocked by the hostility in his voice. “No, I—”

  “You will not have an abortion,” he growled. “That’s not an option.”

  “What? I didn’t say—”

  “Son of a bitch, Astrid,” he said, suddenly leaping to his feet. “Don’t you understand that this is a gift? A fucking gift, not some problem that will get in the way of your career or your need to blow town and—”

  “Stop it!” She jumped up, shocked by his venom. “What’s wrong with you? I didn’t say any of that—”

  He strode across the room and grabbed her by her upper arms, his grip unyielding, but he was careful not to hurt her, even in his fury. “I saw the look of horror on your face, Astrid. You called it a problem. This baby deserves more, Astrid—”

  “I know it deserves more,” she shouted at him. “For God’s sake, don’t you think I know that? I drank beer tonight, Jason. Beer! How long do you think it will take before I lose this baby, too? Did I already destroy it with that stupid beer tonight?” Her voice broke, and she clutched her stomach as all the memories flooded her, as she stared at him in horror. “Dear God, Jason, what if I somehow make this one die, too?”

  The anguish in Astrid’s voice broke through the haze threatening to consume Jason, jerking him back to the present. He suddenly realized how tightly he was gripping her, and he swore when he realized that he’d shouted at her. Son of a bitch. This was Astrid. Not his former wife, telling him that she was going to abort their son because it would interfere with her career. “Shit, Astrid.” He immediately softened his grip, swearing at the pain in her eyes. “I’m sorry.”

  “Let go of me,” she said, her voice rough and unsettled. “Now.”

  He immediately dropped his hands and jammed them in his pockets as she stepped back. Her face was ashen, but her body language was furious as she stalked over to the door and pulled it open. “Get out,” she said. “Just get out.”

  Jason stared at all the moving boxes on the landing, and something seemed to freeze in his soul. If he left, Astrid would be gone, along with his child. “I can’t,” he said quietly.

  “You don’t have a choice,” she said, her voice steely. “It’s my house.”

  He let out his breath, aware of the raw pain in her eyes. Her hand was trembling where she was holding onto the door, and her face was stark and haunted. He couldn’t leave. Not this woman. Not his child. He had to find a way to bridge the chasm he’d just created between them by being such an ass.

  Swearing, he paced away from her and ran his hand through his hair. Shit. There was no other way. He had to tell her the truth, a truth that hurt every time he spoke of it, or even thought of it. A truth that was better off being buried deep than being laid out in the open to flay him raw.

  “Jason. I mean it. Leave.” Her voice was unyielding and hard, and he knew he’d crossed the line to the unforgivable.

  Fuck that. He had to fix this. Gritting his teeth in resolution, Jason spun toward her, fixing his gaze on her hard face, banking on the fact that the depth and emotion he’d sensed in her so many times was really there, that he could reach that side of her with the truth. “A few years after Noah was born, my wife became pregnant again. She didn’t tell me, and by sheer coincidence, I ran into her at the hospital when she was on her way in for an abortion.”

  Astrid blanched. “What?”

  “Shit, Astrid.” He strode over to her, desperate for her to understand. “I’m sorry I reacted the way I did just now. I was suddenly back in that moment with Kate, and I panicked.” Jesus. He would never forget the raw terror he’d felt when he’d realized what she was going to do, when he’d thought he wouldn’t be able to stop her. The complete powerlessness coursing through him. “She used the same words with me. ‘It’s not your problem.’ That’s all I could think of when you said it.” He met her gaze. “I already lost one son. I can’t lose another child.”

  She stared at him, her beautiful brown eyes searching for understanding. “What do you mean?”

  “Kate didn’t abort our son that day, and he was born eight months later.” Jason steeled himself against the pain and grief that always accompanied the memory of his second child. “His name was Lucas Jonathan Sarantos. He was four years younger than Noah. He was born early with a heart condition and required constant medical supervision.”

  Astrid heard the pain in Jason’s voice, and her heart tightened. God, she knew that pain of losing a child. It was so devastating. She touched his arm lightly, and he immediately flipped his wrist and caught her hand, gripping it tightly.

  “I was on call at the hospital, and my wife was supposed to be home that night. She was a doctor as well, so we didn’t have the nurse on duty when one of us was home. Kate got an invitation to a high profile fundraiser, so she left Lucas with a sitter, because the nurse wasn’t available for another two hours. Lucas died before the ambulance even got to the house.” He met her gaze. “He wouldn’t have died if one of us had been home. He was ten months old.”

  Tears filled Astrid’s eyes at the self-recrimination in his voice, at the weight he was carrying. God, she knew that, she knew what it was like. “I’m so sorry, Jason.”

  “Yeah, me, too,” he muttered, fighting to keep his composure. Every time he thought of that night, he felt like it was going to break him again. “I’m sorry I overreacted just now with you. I’m an ass, and you didn’t deserve it.”

  A faint smile flicked at the corners of her mouth. “No, I didn’t. But thank you for the apology.”

  He didn’t ask if he was forgiven. He didn’t want to hear it if he wasn’t. He needed Astrid’s faith, he needed to connect with her. So, instead, he took her hand and raised it to his mouth, pressing his lips against her knuckles. “Tell me about your baby, Astrid. The one you lost. Help me understand why you’re so afraid.”

  The gentleness of his tone nearly undid Astrid, and she fought for control of her emotions. Dammit. She couldn’t tell him. No one knew about her past. She couldn’t let herself lean on anyone again. It had been so hard to get back onto her feet and learn how to stand alone. She couldn’t get caught up in Jason’s spell. “I’m not afraid.”

  He raised his brows at her. “Tell me why you’re afraid, Astrid,” he repeated. “My son died. I understand.”

  Tears suddenly filled her eyes, and the effort of holding it in seemed too much. No one knew. Not even her brother or her mother, but suddenly, with this stranger, this man who carried the same grief she did, she didn’t want to be alone with her memories again. “His name was Justin. He was stillborn at eight months.”

  “Hell,” he said quietly. “There’s no other word for the experience of having your child die.”

  She nodded, biting her lip. “I know.”

  Jason tugged on her hand, pulling her toward him. She was too drained to argue or to resist when he wrapped his arms around her and tucked her against him. She pressed her face to his chest, accepting his warmth, the shared understanding of a burden almost too great to bear. His body was like a great shield of protection surrounding her. Strength and understanding, a bond that they shared. She closed her eyes as she felt him press his lips to her hair. It wasn’t sexual. It was comforting and beautiful, without judgment, and somehow, it eased some of the pain from her soul.

  “You can’t leave town,” Jason said softly. “You have to stay.”

  Astrid stiffened. She’d forgotten about the fact she was losing her home. How was she going to support a child?

  “Astrid.” Jason pulled back to look at her. “I have an empty carriage house. It’s yours.”

  She stared at him, shocked by his offer. That carriage house was beautiful. Her dream. Yearning rushed through her…and then she saw the expression on Jason’s face. Determined. Protective. There wasn’t love on his face. It was the male instinct to protect a child.

  Jason didn’t want her to stay for herself. He wanted to protect the baby.

  Just like before. Just like with Paul
. It wasn’t about her. Even though she knew that, she realized he was so tempting that she knew she wouldn’t be able to stop herself from falling under his spell or from opening her heart to him…and then what? He would break it, and there would be nothing left. She couldn’t recover from that kind of devastation again. She knew it.

  She shook her head. “I can’t.” She pulled away. “I’ll be fine. I’ll think of something.” She would get a job. A real job. Someplace that had health insurance. Clare had been able to be a single mom. She could do it, too…assuming she could carry the baby full term…Fear rippled over her again, and she felt light-headed. What if she failed the baby again?

  “What other choices do you have, Astrid?” Jason’s gentle intrusion slashed through her fear, yanking her back to the present.

  No choices. She had no options. Time would run out tomorrow morning. Then what? Where would she go? How would she manage? Nausea churned through her, and her head began to pound. “I can’t—”

  He caught her chin, gently asking her to look at him. “I can give you a home and security.” His voice was earnest and gentle. Kind. Not dominating and threatening. It was as if he sensed she was treading on the edge of terror and was ready to bolt, and he knew he had to ease her down from her fear. “I’m a doctor, for hell’s sake. You’ve got me twenty-four/seven. I’ll be there if anything goes wrong.”

  Astrid stared at him, the truth of his words sinking in. Could she really risk the baby by going off and living in some shithole while she was pregnant? No, no, no, of course she couldn’t. She couldn’t do that to her child. But to put herself under Jason’s influence? And what if she stayed in town and people found out she was pregnant? There was no way to keep that a secret. They would judge her and—

  “Astrid.” Jason turned her toward him. “We’ll work it out. We’ll find a way. I just want you and the baby safe. At least stay there for now, until we figure things out.”

 

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