Claiming His Baby

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Claiming His Baby Page 50

by Nikki Chase


  “I know I could be wrong,” Heath admits. “I deal with possibilities all the time in my work. There’s never a 100% chance that I’m making the right decision.”

  “Then why can’t you let me make my own decisions?” I ask, frustrated. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  “I told you this morning, when it comes to you and our baby, I want to play it safe.” The way he says “our baby” makes my heart instantly melt—must be pregnancy hormones—but I press on.

  This has been bothering me for a while. Ever since I fell in front of Heath’s parents’ house, I’ve never been allowed to make the kind of decisions most adults take for granted.

  During the day, I can write and do whatever in the apartment, so it’s not too bad. But when Heath’s home, I can’t do anything. We’d just laze around on the couch or in bed, being sedentary.

  There are moments when Heath’s protectiveness makes me feel precious and loved—something I’ve always craved since my father left us without an explanation. But at the same time, having relied on myself for so long, I bristle when someone tries to tell me what to do, and Heath does a lot of that.

  “I know you want to keep me safe and healthy, and I appreciate that. But I’m still a human being, Heath, not a decoration or a pet that you can just confine to your home.”

  Heath frowns. “Is that how you see it? You think I’ve been treating you like a thing, or an animal?” He runs his fingers through his hair, letting it fall messily across his forehead. “Fuck, I’ve never treated anyone better than I treat you, and that’s still not good enough?”

  “That’s not what I’m saying.” I raise my volume. “You pay me enough attention—and affection. Too much, even. I just—”

  “Too much? Too fucking much?” Now it’s Heath’s turn to raise his voice. With his palm, he hits the emergency stop button on the silver panel by the door.

  The elevator jerks to a stop, and I have to grab hold of the wooden railing to maintain my balance.

  “What are you doing?” I ask, alarmed.

  “We’re not done talking, and there’s someone in my office. A client from China.”

  “Mr. Zhang is here?” I ask.

  I’ve spoken to people from his Beijing office, and I know he’s been planning his visit for a long time. He agreed to let Anders Capital Management handle his investment portfolio before he even met Heath, deciding to choose this company based on its reputation and track record.

  “Yeah,” Heath says.

  “You should go back up to see him. He’s traveled a long way to see you.”

  “We’re not done here. And I decide what to do with my business,” he says.

  “I wasn’t even…” I stop and take a deep breath, worried I’ll say something I’ll regret. Anger simmers just beneath my skin. “Even you must see how unfair you’re being. You want me to stay quiet about how you run your business, but you make me do all kinds of things and expect me to obey just because you say so.”

  “It’s all for your own good,” Heath says.

  “Oh, so now you know what’s best for me?” I ask, my irritation growing despite my desire to end this argument. “You know what I need, better than I do?”

  “When it comes to the bed rest, yes. Obviously, it’s safer for both you and our baby to stay home.”

  “It’s not as obvious as you think. What about my second opinion?”

  “Like I said, I just want to play it safe,” Heath repeats. We're just going in circles now. The words are starting to lose their meaning.

  One side of this elevator is clear glass that lets us see out into the city. It should make this space feel generous. But right now—I don’t know if it’s because I’m angry or because we’ve been trapped here for too long—right now it feels too small. Suffocating.

  “But is safety all that matters, Heath?” I ask. “What about what I want? Does that not factor into anything?”

  “You want a healthy baby, don’t you?” Heath asks, his sharp gaze piercing through me.

  “You don’t get it,” I say quietly.

  “What don’t I get? All I’m doing is try to protect you, but that makes you angry.” Heath shakes his head. “I’m sorry I care about you.”

  “You don’t get it!” I exclaim, my patience running out. “I’m not just a baby incubator, Heath. I’m a person, whom you supposedly love. You should care about what I want.”

  “I do,” Heath says softly. He steps closer and touches my shoulder, but I jerk away.

  I can’t… I don’t want anyone, or anything, to touch me right now. This elevator is already too small. I already feel like hyperventilating.

  “Let me out of here,” I say in a small voice as my breathing gets more labored. I probably look pale right now.

  “Are you okay?” Heath asks as he presses the button for me.

  I remain quiet until the elevator door opens at the ground floor. There are still reporters milling around, probably exchanging notes and asking for more information from people who work in the building.

  Heath won’t be able to make a scene now. He knows it’ll end up in the media and hurt both of us—and the baby too, by extension.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “I’ll see you at home,” Heath says, worry filling his blue eyes. “I’ll call you a cab, okay? Or should I take you home? I’ll take you home. Stay here, okay? I just want to go up there and let them know I’m going home. I won’t be long.”

  I nod, knowing there’s less chance of complications this way.

  But I don’t intend to do as he says. No way. Not this time.

  I’m tired of living by Heath’s rules. I want to live my own life.

  As soon as Heath leaves, I waddle across the lobby as reporters watch and take some more pictures. Outside, I hail a cab and tell the driver to take me to Jane’s.

  I’m not going home to Heath tonight. Maybe never.

  Kat

  “Kat, your baby daddy's here,” Jane says as she peers into the screen of the video intercom. She raises a smug eyebrow.

  “Yeah, okay, fine. The video intercom is not useless,” I say. “But just ignore him.”

  “The peeps at my office would freak out if they knew Heath Anders wants to be buzzed up to my apartment.” As Jane turns around, she catches sight of my displeased expression. “Not that I’d tell anyone about it.”

  “About what?” Colleen, Jane’s roommate, wanders down the hallway.

  “Kat was just appreciating our new video intercom,” Jane says.

  “Oh, yeah, it was my idea.” Colleen giggles. “I had too many randos trying to come up here, and this little thing lets me filter them.”

  “Colleen’s kind of a slut,” Jane says with a teasing grin.

  “Hey!” Colleen protests. “Don't slut-shame me.”

  Colleen works at the same place as Jane, and makes just as much money. The video intercom isn't the only upgrade they've made since I moved out of this apartment.

  “Besides, it's not just for funsies. It's for our own safety,” Colleen says.

  “And by that she means it's so she can make sure nobody's following the guy who delivers her weed.”

  Colleen grins cheekily as she enters the living room, where Jane and I are sitting on the Ikea couch we bought together back in the day. She notices the screen of the video intercom is still on, and she stops in her tracks. “Mmm… This fine man can come up here any time.”

  He's mine, bitch.

  Luckily, I only said that in my head. Still, I’m surprised by my own instinctive response. The urge to lay my claim on Heath surges quickly and overwhelmingly.

  “That man also happens to be this woman's baby daddy, so I’d back off if I were you,” Jane says with a grin. She's noticed my sudden irritation.

  “Oh, I didn’t know he was taken. Sorry,” Colleen says with a giggle. “Oh, hey, you look familiar, by the way. Have I seen you before?”

  “I don’t think so. But maybe there’s still a pi
cture of me on the fridge or something. I used to live here.”

  “Oh, you’re Kat… right?” she asks.

  “That’s me.”

  “I have to say, you have great taste in men, Kat,” Colleen says. She peers closer into the screen, which is still glowing. “In fact, he looks familiar, too.” She pauses while she studies the grainy little black-and-white video feed. “Oh shit.” She snaps her gaze toward me and stares. Pointing at the screen, she asks, “That’s Heath Anders, right?”

  I turn to look at Jane, who just shrugs.

  I weigh my options. At this point, what’s the difference if another person knows about Heath and me?

  “Yeah,” I admit, my heart pounding. Somehow, saying it out loud feels exhilarating.

  “You’re on all the gossip blogs right now,” Colleen says in amazement.

  “Yeah.” I give her a polite smile.

  This feels strange. I’ve never had anyone get star-struck at the sight of me before. But then I’ve never stood at the center of a media storm before either.

  Colleen turns to look at the screen again. “Oh, hey, he’s gone.”

  I squint to look at the screen. I can’t see the video clearly, but I can make out enough to tell that there’s nobody standing in front of the camera anymore.

  He’s gone? Just like that?

  As much as I hate myself for wanting him to try harder to find me, I can’t help it. My heart clenches, and suddenly, I miss him.

  I wonder if this is just because of pregnancy hormones.

  Then, three soft knocks are heard, and all three of us turn to stare at the door.

  Is that him?

  Again, even though I hate that I feel this way, my heart jumps in anticipation.

  We all freeze. Jane and Colleen turn to look at me.

  “What?” I mouth.

  “Do we open the door?” Jane whispers.

  “I don’t know.”

  Colleen tiptoes toward the door and looks through the little peephole. Pointing at the door, she mouths, “It’s him.”

  More knocking.

  Then, a familiar voice that makes my stomach flutter. “I know someone’s home. I can see shadows moving behind this door.”

  Nothing gets past him.

  Colleen gives me an apologetic grimace.

  I take a deep breath. Yeah. I think I’m ready to see him.

  “Just open the door,” I say in a normal voice.

  My heart hammers in my chest as Colleen reaches for the handle and pulls the door open.

  And then, I see him.

  His hair is more of a mess than usual, falling gently above the brow bone in a way that makes me want to run my hand through it to fix it. He’s wearing a long black coat over his business suit.

  As soon as the door swings open, Heath looks past Colleen, ignoring her flirty greeting. His sweeping gaze finds me. In a second, the anxiety in his blue eyes disappears, to be replaced by relief. There’s some sadness that lingers, too.

  “Can I come inside?” Heath asks, staring straight at me, even though Colleen’s still blocking his path.

  Colleen twists to look at me.

  I give her a nod.

  As Heath’s Italian leather shoes taps against the wooden floor, Jane says, “We’ll leave you two alone, then.” Before Colleen can protest, Jane drags her away into one of the bedrooms.

  The cushion of the sofa dips when Heath sits down next to me.

  I give him a flat stare.

  “I thought you were going to be home. I was so worried when I didn’t find you there.” Heath’s gaze lands on the coffee table, where my cell phone is lying. “You didn’t answer any of my calls either. I thought something had happened to you.”

  “As you can see, I’m fine.” I cross my arms over my chest and rest them on my swollen belly. The baby kicks as I do, and I wonder if he knows Heath’s here.

  “Are you ready to go home yet?” Heath asks. The patronizing tone of his voice grates on me. It’s not what he’s saying that irritate me; it’s how he says it. So patronizing.

  “Are you ready to apologize yet?” I ask him back.

  He seems genuinely taken aback. Surprise registers on his chiseled features. “Apologize? For what?”

  I stare at him. “Really?”

  “You want me to apologize for wanting to keep you safe and healthy?” Heath asks.

  “No,” I say quickly. Before he can utter another word, I say, “For treating me like a child. I can make my own decisions, you know. I can do whatever I want, go wherever I want. I may be younger than you, but I’m a grown-up just like you, and I can take care of myself.”

  “Okay.” Heath frowns, but I can’t tell if he’s angry or confused. “But you’re also pregnant, and you need to take it easy.”

  “Who are you to tell me that, though?” I ask, getting more worked up. Despite his calm tone, Heath’s just telling me to do what he wants me to do—again.

  “We agreed that you were going to do everything the doctor recommends.”

  “Yes. That’s why I eat the stuff your chef prepares. That’s why I stay home and sit on my ass so much,” I say. “But can’t you admit that, given the situation today, I had to do something?”

  “You didn’t have to do anything. Angela was going to handle it on her own.”

  “Angela was freaking out because she didn’t know if she could save you from this one!” I almost scream.

  “I had it under control.”

  “Obviously, you didn’t,” I say in a loud, high-pitched voice. “If you did, Angela wouldn’t have been so relieved when I told her I was going to show up.”

  For a moment, I wonder if I have enough money to make it on my own as a single mom. Heath’s already paid me a portion of the money he promised me.

  I probably have enough to stay home and not work for the first few years of the child’s life. I may even have enough left over for when he goes to college—I don’t want him to start his adult life saddled by student loans like I am.

  That said, if Heath decides to take me to court to fight for custody over this child, I could spend everything I’m worth for legal representation, and I’ll still lose the child. I’ll probably end up penniless, too.

  “By making a statement, you just turned it into a bigger story. It would’ve died down pretty quickly if we’d left it alone,” Heath insists.

  “That’s not what Angela told me,” I say. “Either way, I had the right to make that decision myself.”

  “You agreed you were going to do everything you could to make sure the baby’s as healthy as he can be.”

  “Yes, and he’s fine. In fact, he’s kicking up a storm right now,” I say, glancing at my belly. “But seriously, you’re going to dangle our contract in front of me now? I thought we were past that. I thought we were more than just a sperm donor and a surrogate now.”

  “We are,” Heath says with a frustrated sigh, his voice growing louder too. “And I’m not talking about the contract. I just mean… it’s best for the baby if you stayed home like the doctor told you to.”

  “Correction: like your doctor told me to. I got a second opinion, remember?” I glare at him. The distinction between love and hate can be so unclear sometimes. “Why is it that your doctor is more credible than mine? And why is it that your opinion is always right when mine is always wrong?”

  “It’s not like that at—”

  “You’re not my boss anymore, Heath. You don’t get to tell me to do anything just because you’ve paid me. I’m not your employee.”

  “I know, but—”

  “Do you?” I ask. “Do you really know? Because you keep bringing up what I agreed to in the contract and I thought that wasn’t what we’re about anymore.”

  “Listen to me, damn it,” Heath says sternly.

  “That’s all I’ve been doing, up until this morning. Maybe I’m tired of listening to you and being your obedient little surrogate.”

  “Jesus. That’s not what you are to me a
t all. You should—”

  “Shit,” I say.

  Heath stares at me. “You’re just going to keep cutting me off and not even listen to what I have to say? Remember what I told you about listening to the other party’s offer before you make a decision?”

  “Firstly, this is not a negotiation. Secondly, that wasn’t directed at you.” I meet his gaze so he can see how serious I am. “I think my water just broke.”

  Kat

  “Are you kidding me right now? Fucking asshole!” Heath curses as a car cuts in front of us.

  He’s been driving like a demon. I can’t check the speed, though, or look out the window, because I’m dealing with a pain of biblical proportions. Now I know why the snake cursed Eve with labor—this sucks, big time.

  Colleen’s sitting in the front passenger seat, phone in hand, with a map on the screen. “If you take a left here, we can avoid the traffic. It’s a longer route, but it’s going to be faster.”

  Thank God for technology. How else could we get information about real-time traffic conditions? What did we do in the age before apps?

  I have no time to muse, though. Even breathing becomes a giant undertaking when my body feels like it’s about to rip into pieces.

  “Breathe,” Jane says. “Remember all those videos we watched together? I want you to breathe just like that, okay?” Jane locks my gaze, then she inhales and exhales in a regular rhythm.

  Maybe I should be more concerned about how Colleen is telling Heath what a nice car this is, and how she keeps trying to engage him in conversation when he’s obviously focused on driving.

  But I don’t have any energy left to care about what’s going on around me. My world is pain—I know that sounds like something a Goth or emo kid would say, but I swear it’s true.

  “Why are we stopping?” Jane asks, all of a sudden.

  I glance around me, fat beads of sweat running down my face. My whole body hurts so much it’s taken me a while to even realize the car is not moving anymore.

  “It’s the po-po,” Colleen says.

 

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