by Layla Hagen
“I will not have my daughter be in pain—”
“Then I suggest you look after her more closely, so incidents like this don’t happen. Now, I suggest you step out of the room until you calm yourself down.”
Who the fuck does this moron think he is? I grind my teeth, barely restraining myself from replying.
“Eric,” Pippa says softly. “Calm down. Let’s go out for a little while.”
Nodding, I follow her out, leaving Julie with the doctor.
“She’ll be fine, Eric,” Pippa says once she’s in the corridor.
“Jesus, why does everyone tell me she’ll be fine?” My tone is harsher than I intended, and Pippa flinches, taking a step back. “That’s not the point. The point is that this could have been much worse.”
“Eric—”
“I shouldn’t have allowed her to go anywhere.”
“You’re blaming Mom?” Her voice is incredulous.
“No, I’m blaming myself. I lost focus.” I avert my eyes from her. “I should have kept watching her. Instead, I was….”
“Busy with me. Are you really going down this route? She’s a kid, Eric. They play. They get hurt. This could have happened even if she were with you at home.”
“No, it wouldn’t,” I say sharply. “Let’s not talk about this now. I’m not—”
“Why aren’t you even looking at me?” she asks in a small voice.
At that, I drag my gaze to her, frowning. “I don’t know. All I can concentrate on now is my daughter. I’m going to make some calls to inform the team I’ll be working from the hospital until Julie’s out.”
“We can take care of her in shifts, and—”
“Maybe it’s better if we don’t,” I find myself saying.
“What do you mean?”
Silence looms between us as I search for the best words, but one look at Pippa tells me she already knows where I’m going with this. Damn it, the last thing I want on this earth is to hurt this woman.
“Are you breaking up with me?” Her shoulders slump, and I bite the inside of my cheek, watching the woman I love shrink before my eyes.
“I’m leaving in a week anyway.” My voice is even, but only barely. Something inside me breaks with every word, but what hurts most is knowing I hurt her.
“One week is not today,” she whispers.
“What’s the point?” I ask, and instantly know it was the wrong thing to say. Pippa’s expression changes from hurt to furious. Glaring, she advances toward me, a strand of hair falling from her bun and over her forehead.
“If you don’t know what the point is, then you haven’t been paying attention. When my dad was in the hospital, you told me not to push you out. You said you wanted to be there for me when things are bad. Now, you’re pushing me out and using Julie as an excuse. I love you, and I love Julie, and this is not how what we have is going to end.” She presses her lips together, and her nostrils are flaring. “Don’t you have anything to say?”
I’m so stunned I can’t even think straight, let alone form a coherent sentence.
“I’ve never seen you so mad,” I say eventually, still too blindsided to come up with anything smarter. Judging by the color storming her cheeks, and by the strength with which she clenches her fists, it was the wrong thing to say. Still, seeing her mad at me is much more of an improvement over seeing her hurt. Maybe if she hates me, she’ll suffer less.
“I haven’t even begun being mad. When you have more important things to say to me, you know where to find me. And by God, if you board that plane and leave for Boston without talking to me first, you will see me truly mad. Kiss Julie for me.”
Then she turns around on her heels and leaves.
Damn.
Chapter Twenty-Six
Pippa
I’m still shaking when I storm inside my apartment. Breathe in, breathe out, Pippa. Yeah, that’s not going to help me. My usual go-to comfort food is cupcakes, but strangely, the thought of them makes me nauseous. That bastard. How dare he take the coward’s way out?
I pace around my living room, rubbing my palms up and down my arms, unable to stop the tears. If I can continue being mad at him, maybe I won’t hurt so much. My heart begs to differ. It already hangs heavy in my chest, making it a chore to breathe.
I’m about to open my fridge and search for some comfort food when my phone rings. It’s a number I don’t know, but I pick up anyway.
“Hello.”
“Is this Pippa Bennett?” a female voice asks. I recognize it; it belongs to my doctor.
“Yes.”
“This is Dr. Edwards. I have your test results.”
“Oh, great. Please tell me I don’t have some life-threatening disease, because my day has taken a nosedive as it is.” I slump on my couch, not even able to muster the energy to worry about whatever she’s about to tell me.
“I have great news for you, Pippa. You’re not sick. You’re pregnant.”
My mouth goes dry, and for a few seconds, I don’t register her words. But when I do, I choke, unable to breathe.
“A—are you sure?” I stutter.
“Positive. Your blood tests prove it.”
I clench the phone tightly in my hand, bringing my knees to my chest and resting my chin on them.
“But I was on birth control,” I argue, sure there must be an understanding. “I took pills from my gynecologist, then stopped using condoms.”
“Maybe you stopped using the condoms too early? You were supposed to wait ten days.”
I start counting in my head, convinced I waited the right amount of time. “I think I waited nine and a half,” I say, defeated.
“Pippa, are you all right?” she asks, worry lacing her voice. “You’ve wanted to have kids for a long time.”
“Yeah.” She would know all about it. Ever since I first got married, I’ve dreamed about the day I would be a mother. I hug my knees tightly to me, processing it. My eyes are misty. Damn it, I have to stop crying.
“I know you and Terence are divorced,” she says quickly, my sobs clearly not going unnoticed. “And I’m not sure if you’re in a relationship, but don’t be discouraged. There is a lot of support for single mothers.”
“I’m happy about the baby. These are happy tears.” But I’m also hurt and afraid. “Can I call you back later?”
“Sure. You should make an appointment with the gynecologist as well.”
“I will,” I assure her, before hanging up.
I lie on the couch, hugging a pillow, curling around it. A baby. I break out in sobs and, too tired to fight them, I give in. I’m not even entirely sure why I’m crying. Gritting my teeth, I steel myself. I know the kind of man Eric is. He won’t turn his back on me.
But what if he will? What if he thinks I’m trying to trap him? An old fear wakes inside me, and the memory of the dreadful night that marked the end of my marriage rushes back to me.
***
I’d been feeling faint and my period was late. I thought I was pregnant and was so ecstatic on the way to the pharmacy, where I bought five tests. I’ve always wanted a big family, like my own. Whenever I brought up the subject of kids to Terence, he put it off, saying we were still young, that we didn’t have to hurry. But I did want to hurry. I wanted my little bundle of joy. Selfishly, I also hoped our unborn child would save our marriage. At the very least, I hoped it’d make the evenings Terence didn’t spend at home less lonely. There was only so often I could spend my evenings with friends or family. They had lives of their own.
When I arrived home, Terence was in a rage. Then again, he was lately always in a rage. He never hit me, but our arguments were vicious. He froze when he saw the bag in my hands. The package was visible through the near-transparent plastic bag.
“What’s that?”
“Pregnancy tests.”
“We use protection,” he said incredulously. “We always use protection.”
“Yes, but nothing’s 100% safe, and I’ve been unwell. Plus, I
didn’t get my period this month.”
“You’re not pregnant.” His tone sent chills down my spine, but still I smiled, trying to ease the tension.
“We’ll find out soon, right?” I held up the bag, smiling like an idiot. “I know you think we’re not ready, but—”
“Are you trying to trap me? I don’t want a child with you,” he spat, taking a step back from me. “All I want is to do my ten years and get the hell away.”
I will always remember those words, that precise moment when my world snapped. Do my ten years. It sounded like a prison sentence. In that moment, I realized that was exactly what our marriage was for him. I just hadn’t realized all of it.
“What do you mean?” I whispered.
“After ten years, the prenup will be void.”
“The money,” I whispered, the pieces suddenly falling into place. “You want the money.”
I had imagined many scenarios of why he resented me. The most plausible one was that he was not feeling like a man because I earned more. That’s why Sebastian and Logan set up a company for him. Yet here it was, the simple truth. He’d married me for my money, and gradually he realized that ten years is a long time to spend faking love.
The pain in my chest was so strong it felt as if someone had sliced it open with a knife. I could barely breathe, or even stand, but I knew what I had to do.
“Get out of my sight. Take your things and leave,” I said. “Better still, just leave. I will send your things.”
“Pippa….” He advanced toward me, raising his arm as if to touch my shoulder.
“Don’t you dare touch me. Leave.”
“I want to know if you’re pregnant first.”
“I’m still divorcing you, even if I am pregnant.”
“I want to know. I won’t abandon a kid of mine.”
Terence grew up with his dad. His mom took off early on, and he didn’t even remember her. It was perhaps his one redeeming quality, not wanting to do to his child what his mother did to him, but it was too little, too late.
I went to the bathroom and did one test. It came out negative. Through sobs, I did the other ones. They all came out negative. I didn’t have the energy to leave the bathroom, so I cracked the door open and said, “They’re all negative. Now, leave.”
“Thank fuck. And don’t you think I’m walking away from this marriage with nothing. I did three years. That has to count for something.”
His reply set off a wave of devastating pain. Then he left. I spent the night in the bathroom, hugging my knees to my chest, rewinding the past years in my head, analyzing everything. Retroactively, everyone’s smarter; I saw signs everywhere. But at the time I met him, I didn’t. He was charming and went out of his way to please me. He didn’t even seem interested in my money.
When Sebastian and Logan told me they wanted Terrence to sign a prenup, I immediately agreed, because the two of them had set up Bennett Enterprises. It was their right to want to protect it. Terence kept his cool when I told him about it. I suppose he didn’t realize how long ten years were.
At least it was over.
***
Lying on my back on the couch, I hug my belly, even though it’s still flat. There is a small baby in here. My lips curl in a smile.
“Well, hello, little one,” I whisper. “We haven’t met yet officially, but I already love you very much. You’ll be the first Bennett baby, and you’ll have so many uncles and aunts you’ll lose count of them. They will spoil you even more than I will. God, I can’t believe I’m rambling already. You should get used to it. We’ll have lots of talks over the next nine months. If you’re a boy, your name might be Seamus.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Eric
The room is quiet as I wait for Julie to wake up. At my demands, the doctors gave her a room of her own, so it’s just the two of us here. I’m sitting on the couch that will also be my office for the three days she will be here.
They administered a pain reliever in the evening, and she slept through the night. I couldn’t sleep a wink.
There is something very peaceful about watching my daughter sleep. As a matter of fact, it’s the only peaceful thing right now. I keep replaying the talk with Pippa. Now, with a clear head, I can finally think straight, and I identified the problem. I don’t want to go after Pippa to bid her good-bye.
I want to go after her and tell her I won’t let her go. Of course, that’s assuming she still wants me. My gut clenches at the idea that she might not.
Sometime between watching her walk away and jolting awake from my stupor, it’s become clear that I want this woman in my life for good. I have to find a way to make it happen, and at the same time not let my kid down. As Mother said, it’s time to stop looking for excuses and start finding solutions.
Moving here will not be easy on Julie. She will have to adapt to a new school and a new life. She will have to leave her friends behind, but there are strong arguments in favor of moving here.
The most important one is Pippa, obviously. She loves my daughter, and my daughter loves her back. Then there is the Bennett family, which embraced Julie like one of their own.
I drum my fingers on the armrest of the couch, waiting for Julie to wake up so I can discuss all this with my baby girl.
She stirs hours later, and the first thing she says is, “You’re here.”
I move from the couch to the edge of her bed, patting her cheek with the back of my hand. “Of course I’m here, sweetie. Does it hurt?”
Julie shakes her head, yawning. “I slept a lot, didn’t I?”
I chuckle. “Yeah.”
“You slept here too?”
“Yes.”
“You’re the best dad in the world.” She leans her head on my arm, sighing. “Where is Pippa?”
“She… Uh….” Why didn’t I anticipate that this would be one of her questions? Julie pulls away from my hug, frowning at me.
“Pippa left yesterday, and didn’t come back. Is it your fault?” she asks.
“What do you mean?”
“I know Pippa. If she’s not here, it means you said something to upset her.”
“Why would you think that?”
“Because Sophie, the older girl at Mrs. Bennett’s house, had a boyfriend, and they argued on the phone because he said a lot of stupid things.”
I open my mouth and close it again when I realize Julie’s not done.
“She said stupidity runs in the Y chromosome. I learned in biology that the X chromosome is for the females and Y for the males, s—”
“Where did I send you?” I ask, flabbergasted. Shaking my head, I add, “Don’t you worry about anything. There is something I want to talk to you about.”
At that, Julie’s expression brightens, and she shifts more to one side as if to make space for me on the bed.
“How would you feel about moving here permanently? I looked up schools—”
Before I can finish my sentence, Julie pushes herself up on her knees and wraps her good arm around my neck, yelling in my ear, “I want to stay, Dad. I want to stay.”
I hug her tightly, careful not to touch her injured arm, while my heart beats at a million miles an hour.
“I love it here. I like Mr. and Mrs. Bennett more than Grams, but don’t tell her that.” She slips out of my arms, sitting back on the bed. “And I love Pippa. She’s like a mom. She’ll never replace my mom, of course, but I love her. Don’t you?”
“I do, pumpkin.”
“Let’s stay.”
My beautiful baby. She will never cease to surprise me. I should have known she wouldn’t even want to hear my arguments, that she’d decide with her heart. If I’m honest, I did the same. Still, as her father, it’s my duty to lay out all the pros and cons, to make her aware of them so she can walk into this with her eyes open. I want her to think this through, to see all the implications.
“It won’t be easy, though. I know you had a tough time acclimating to your school. But I r
esearched some here and found some you might like. We can also try homeschooling.”
“Can I go to the school where the Bennett girls go? Pleeease. I’d already have two friends that way.”
“Sure, I will look in to that. You wouldn’t see your friends back home often, or Ms. Smith. You said you missed her.”
Julie shrugs. “Yeah, because she was more fun than Ms. Blackwell. But Ms. Smith is my nanny. Pippa would be my mom.”
“It would be a big change, sweetie.”
“I know, Dad. I’m a big girl. And in six years, I will go to college, and you will be alone. If you marry Pippa, you will never be alone again.”
“Way to break my heart, kiddo.”
“You know it’s true.”
I watch her determined look for a few seconds, and I have to give it to her. She’s not a baby anymore; she is a big girl, and I have to trust that she can make a sound decision.
“Are you one hundred percent sure?” I ask one more time.
“Yes,” she answers with a firm nod.
“Okay. Do you mind if I leave you here alone for a few hours?”
“No, go and find Pippa.”
“Be a good girl.”
Rising from the bed, I kiss the top of her head and head to the door. I’m going to get my woman.
My mind is racing with arrangements and solutions. I can stay here and grow the company, and I’ll need to replace myself in Boston. None of that matters, though. All I needed was to know if my girl was on board with this. I can make everything else work. Now I have to make sure Pippa still wants me.
I’m barely out of Julie’s room when I find myself flanked by Max and Blake. This will be interesting.
“You son of a bitch,” Blake says. Ha! I glance at Max, hoping for some support, but judging by his expression, I will have no ally today. Which serves me right, I suppose.
“Look—” I begin, but Max immediately cuts me off.
“Our sister is hurt,” he booms. “We demand an explanation.”