He’d had other lovers, but he’d never found himself thinking about any of them the way he was preoccupied with thoughts of Kenna. He’d certainly never missed any of them when he had to be out of town for a day or two, but he missed Kenna every minute that he wasn’t with her.
Was that love?
He didn’t know—he’d never been in love before. But he’d never felt about anyone else the way he felt about Kenna.
Because of the example set by his parents, he believed in forever-after love. But he’d also had a front-row seat to the heartbreak Andrew had suffered when Nina died, and he’d vowed to protect himself against the risk of any similar pain. But somehow Kenna had sneaked past his defenses and firmly taken hold of his heart.
Which would have been great, except that it introduced a whole new set of questions: What if he screwed this up? What if he lost her? What if she didn’t feel about him the same way he felt about her?
* * *
Daniel was late that night.
He called Kenna just before dinner to tell her that he was out with Josh and Ren. She ate the flank steak that she’d grilled with peppers and mushrooms (and she didn’t even like mushrooms!) by herself, putting the leftovers in the fridge for another day.
She was asleep before he came home, and although she woke up in his arms when her alarm went off, he didn’t show any interest in lingering in bed. He mumbled something about an early meeting and went directly to the shower.
She was at physio with Becca when she got the text message telling her that he was going to Atlanta with Josh. She didn’t begrudge him going to the race, but she did wonder why he hadn’t mentioned his plans earlier. It was as if he’d decided to go at the last minute, and she had an uneasy feeling that he was trying to put some distance between them.
He got back late on Sunday. She’d waited up for him, and they chatted briefly, but when she asked if he was coming to bed, he said he was too wound up to sleep. He made the same or similar excuses over the next few days—and there was always an early meeting or a late dinner. She tried to talk to him, but he kept insisting that he was just busy.
Kenna didn’t know why Daniel’s feelings for her had changed. She only knew that they had. Just the previous week, it was as if he couldn’t wait to get home to see her. Now he was manufacturing excuses to stay at work late and taking frequent trips out of town that he didn’t need to take.
She missed the intimacy they’d shared—not just the physical intimacy but their friendship and the emotional connection that had always been part of it.
Because they’d been friends for more than ten years, she knew his pattern. He’d had a lot of girlfriends, but he’d never stayed with any one for any length of time, so she shouldn’t have been surprised that he’d apparently grown bored. But it frustrated her that he wouldn’t just admit it to her.
If he didn’t want to talk about their relationship and analyze his feelings, that was his prerogative as a man. But he barely talked to her at all anymore, and she knew she couldn’t live like that for another eight months.
When he came home from an overnight trip near the end of September, she decided that she wasn’t going to let him dodge the issue any longer. She wasn’t really feeling up to a confrontation. She hadn’t been sleeping well for the past several nights, so she was tired and a little queasy, but she knew she couldn’t put it off any longer.
“I made an appointment to see a lawyer,” she told him. “It’s time to stop pretending that this marriage is something it’s not.”
“Our agreement was for a year,” he reminded her.
“Which was never anything more than an arbitrary time frame,” she pointed out. “You have your money, so there’s no need to continue this charade.”
“I thought it stopped being a charade three months ago.”
“Why? Because we were sleeping together?”
He didn’t respond.
“And if that’s your criteria,” she continued, “then I guess the charade has resumed, because we haven’t shared a bed in more than three weeks.”
“I’ve been out of town more than I’ve been in it during the past three weeks,” he pointed out.
“I know. And I finally got the hint.”
“There was no hint, Kenna. I’ve been busy. That’s it. End of story.”
She shook her head, and the room suddenly tilted.
She grabbed the edge of the countertop and drew in a slow, deep breath.
“Kenna?” Daniel took a step closer, alarmed by the sudden pallor of her cheeks.
Her only response was to exhale, slowly and carefully. “Maybe we should table this discussion for another time.”
“I know I’ve been doing more traveling than usual over the past few weeks,” he admitted. “Maybe more than was really necessary. But our relationship seemed to go from zero to sixty faster than a Monte Carlo in time trials, and I needed some time and space to figure things out.”
“Well, you had plenty of both,” she said.
And he knew he still didn’t have all the answers. But the irrefutable truth that he’d finally acknowledged was that he didn’t want to let her go. Not at the end of the year and definitely not now.
Before he could say anything else, he noticed that her pale cheeks had taken on a decidedly greenish tinge. “Are you—”
“Excuse me,” she said, and rushed down the hall toward the bathroom.
Of course he followed. And heard, through the bathroom door, the unmistakable sound of retching. Now he was really worried, because Kenna didn’t get sick. Ever.
He went back to the kitchen and returned with a glass of water. He heard a flush and knocked on the door.
“Go away.”
He ignored the instruction, opening the door to find her still on her knees in front of the toilet. He pressed the glass into her shaky hands.
“I told you to go away.”
“When do I ever do what you tell me?”
She managed a weak smile. “Almost never.”
“Are you okay?”
She drew in a deep breath. “I think so.”
“Something you ate?”
“Maybe. Or maybe it’s a touch of the flu that’s been going around at school.”
“The flu?” he echoed dubiously.
She nodded. “I had six students missing from my first-period class yesterday.”
“You never get sick.”
“Apparently I do.” She lifted the glass to her lips to take another tentative sip of water.
“Do you have a fever? Chills? Body aches?”
“No,” she admitted. “But I’ve felt exhausted and nauseated for a few days now.”
Daniel felt his own stomach drop as he suddenly recalled a recent conversation with Archie. The other man had been bursting at the seams with pride having just learned that he was going to be a grandfather for the seventh time. Though he admitted to feeling some sympathy for his daughter-in-law who was “sicker than a dog—sleeping all the time except when she was throwing up.”
Exhausted and nauseated.
Kenna’s words echoed in his mind.
“Are you—” he swallowed “—pregnant?”
Chapter Fourteen
Kenna sucked in a breath as her head shot up. “What?”
“When was your last period?”
She opened her mouth to respond, then closed it again.
“Kenna?” he prompted.
“I’m...not sure,” she finally admitted. “A few weeks ago, I think.”
“You think?”
“I don’t remember the exact date, but I’m sure I had it,” she said, though she sounded anything but certain.
“Are you?”
“I’m not pregnant.”
&
nbsp; “How do you know?” he challenged.
“Because we were careful.”
But had they been careful enough?
He remembered “the talk” he’d been subjected to when he was a teenager, his father’s emphasis on always using protection along with the warning that no protection was ever one hundred percent effective and a reminder to always think long and hard about the possible repercussions every time he was intimate with a woman. Over the years, the use of condoms had become such a deeply ingrained habit that he didn’t need to think about it anymore.
But he’d been a little more relaxed about it with Kenna—because he knew her, she was his friend, his wife and a virgin until he’d taken her to his bed.
“The morning after I came back from the conference in Palo Alto,” he suddenly remembered.
“What?”
“We were both more asleep than awake.” And he hadn’t been thinking about anything but how much he needed to be inside her. “We didn’t use any protection that morning.”
Though he wouldn’t have thought it was possible, her already pale face got even whiter. “But that was only once.”
“It only takes once,” he said bluntly.
“I know,” she acknowledged, rubbing the back of her hand against her forehead as she did when her head was throbbing. “But what are the odds that the one time we didn’t use protection happened to coincide with my fertile period?”
“Any odds aren’t good odds.”
She looked away. “You’re right—a baby right now would be a disaster.”
But she didn’t sound as if she really believed it.
He knew that she wanted to have children someday. When Maura was born, she’d gone with him to the hospital to see his new niece, and she’d got that misty-eyed look that a lot of women got when they looked at babies.
He didn’t doubt that she would be a great mother when the time was right—but the time was definitely not right. And even if she was ready to be a mother, he wasn’t ready to be a father. He’d only begun to acknowledge the depth of his feelings for Kenna, and the possibility of a baby was enough to make him break out in a cold sweat.
“Right now it would be,” he agreed bluntly. “I’ve got a lot going on with GSR in the upcoming year, and that’s where my focus needs to be. The last thing I need is to add a baby to the mix, especially when this marriage was only supposed to be temporary.”
She nodded, looking so miserable he wished he’d found a way to temper his thoughts and regulate his emotions. But his mind had been spinning since she’d dropped the bombshell about the lawyer, so he hardly knew what he was saying or doing.
Before he could say anything else, she bent over the toilet again. But there was nothing left in her stomach to expel, and eventually the heaving stopped.
He rinsed a cloth and gently wiped her brow. Maybe he’d jumped the gun—maybe she was just ill. Either way, it was obvious she was hurting, and he didn’t like to see her hurting.
“Do you want anything?”
“I just want to lie down for a little bit.”
She went to the spare room and pulled back the covers on the bed. There was a book on the dresser and an empty coffee mug beside it. He didn’t know when she’d moved back into this room, but it was apparent that she had, and he wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.
She tugged the covers up to her chin.
“I’m going out for a while, but I won’t be long.”
“Okay.”
“Can I get you anything before I go?” he asked her.
She shook her head, her eyes already drifting shut.
* * *
This marriage was only supposed to be temporary.
Daniel’s words echoed in her mind, decimating her foolish hopes.
She’d known that from the outset, of course, but over the past few months, she’d let herself forget. She’d let herself get caught up in the fantasy of playing house with Daniel, being his wife in every sense of the word. And while she hadn’t let herself get so far as to imagine they might have a child together, she wasn’t at all distressed by the possibility.
Yes, she’d made an appointment to see a lawyer, because she knew they couldn’t continue the way things were. But she didn’t really want to end their marriage—she’d only wanted him to realize that he didn’t want to end their marriage, either. But obviously that wasn’t going to happen.
She slept for almost an hour, then woke up ravenous. Though her stomach was clamoring for sustenance, she was worried that anything she put into it might come back up again. She found a box of crackers in the cupboard and poured a glass of water, and she nibbled and sipped, testing her stomach.
Was she sick? Or was it really possible that she might be pregnant?
And if she was, what would that mean for their relationship?
She laid a hand on her belly, and let herself truly consider the possibility for the first time.
To have a baby with the man she loved would be her greatest dream come true. And she did love Daniel. Unfortunately, he hadn’t given any indication that her feelings were reciprocated in the same way.
Maybe it was just the flu.
She didn’t feel hot or cold or achy, which were all traditional symptoms of the flu. Her breasts were a little tender, though, as they often were just before she got her period. Maybe she would get it today—that would certainly put Daniel’s pregnancy theory to rest.
She dug her pocket calendar out of her purse and flipped back through the pages to answer, for herself, his question about her last period. She always put an asterisk on the date that it started because her doctor asked whenever Kenna went in for a checkup.
She went back to June, though she clearly remembered it starting just a couple of days after they got back from Las Vegas. Sure enough, there was a little asterisk marking June 10. The next asterisk was on July 13, then August 8 and... She moved the calendar closer, scrutinizing every one of the thirty squares in the month of September. There was no asterisk.
But September had been an incredibly busy month with back-to-school activities, staff meetings and social events. And on top of all that, she’d still been taking Becca for physio three times a week, and each session was noted on the calendar. It was possible there was just so much going on that she’d simply forgotten to mark the date of her period. Or maybe, because she’d been so busy, it had thrown off her system. She wasn’t one of those women whose bodies kept a strict twenty-eight-day cycle. In fact, it wasn’t uncommon for her to sometimes go six weeks between periods.
But from August 8 until October 2 was...almost eight weeks.
She heard Daniel’s key in the lock and quickly stuffed her calendar back into her purse.
“I brought you some chicken noodle soup from the Corner Deli.”
“Thanks.”
“Feeling any better?”
“I think so.”
He set up a tray for her and she ate a little bit of the soup, then pushed the bowl aside.
“I brought you something else, too.”
He handed her a bag from the pharmacy.
Kenna guessed what it was before she peeked inside to confirm it: a pregnancy test.
“Don’t you think you’re being a little paranoid?”
“Maybe,” he acknowledged. “But I’d rather know than wonder.”
“You want me to take this now?”
“I would think you’d be as anxious as I am for the results.”
She was anxious and eager and scared. But there was a part of her that just wanted to savor the possibility a little longer without dealing with the reality of yes or no.
She went into the bathroom and read the instructions. The leaflet described “this convenient two-pack” as being designed to give a woma
n fast and accurate results with a second test included so that she could retest and confirm the results.
Kenna didn’t even want to take one test, because she still didn’t know what result she hoped for—positive or negative. There was a part of her that was thrilled by the possibility that she might be expecting a child.
But if she was pregnant, she knew Daniel wouldn’t agree to a divorce. He’d insist on staying married and being a father to their child because it was the right thing to do.
Except that it wouldn’t be the right thing for him—not if it wasn’t what he wanted. And he’d eventually resent both her and their baby for trapping him in a marriage that was never intended to be anything but temporary.
As she watched the seconds tick away, she found herself ignoring the yearning in her heart and praying for a negative result. Because as much as she wanted a baby—as much as she wanted Daniel’s baby—she knew it wasn’t what he wanted. And she didn’t want him to stay with her for the wrong reasons.
She took a deep breath, turned over the stick and started to cry.
* * *
He couldn’t tell anything from looking at her, and she didn’t look at him. She just handed him the stick as she walked past him and back to the spare bedroom.
His fingers tightened around the plastic.
His heart was in his throat as he looked at the window—then settled back in his chest when the minus sign registered.
He followed her into the bedroom.
“You’re not pregnant.”
“That’s what it says,” she confirmed.
“Are you...disappointed?”
“No,” she said, although the tears that shimmered in her eyes suggested otherwise. “Yes, I want to have a baby someday, but not with a man who doesn’t want the same thing.”
Now that the panic had subsided, he found himself wanting to console her. “I’m not saying that I’d never want a child—it’s just that right now, the timing—”
“The timing was never going to be right for us,” she reminded him. “Because our marriage always had an expiration date.”
A Wife for One Year Page 18