“She’s not my wife anymore,” he reminded her.
“She called and asked you to pick up milk,” Ashley said. “Which is the type of thing that a wife asks her husband to do.”
“Even when we were married, she never made those kinds of calls. In fact, she probably wouldn’t even have noticed if we were out of milk.”
“And yet she called you now, knowing you were here, to ask.”
“She doesn’t know I’m here.”
“You don’t think so?” she challenged.
He frowned at the certainty in her tone. “How could she?”
“Your car is still in your driveway, which means that you didn’t go too far, and, coincidentally, I live down the street.”
“Danica doesn’t play those kind of games,” he said, but in the back of his mind, he wondered if he could be wrong.
“Neither do I,” Ashley said.
It was the quiet resignation in her eyes that worried him more than the words or the tone.
“What are you saying?”
“I can’t do this anymore, Cam. I won’t be the other woman.”
He was stunned. “Are you seriously asking me to choose between you and my ex-wife? Because if that’s the case, let me remind you that she is my ex-wife.”
Ashley took a step back. “I’m not asking you to choose at all. I’m making the choice this time, based on what’s best for me, and that is to move on with my life without you in it.”
“You don’t mean that,” he said, needing it to be true. Because to lose her again would be unbearable.
“I do mean it,” she said softly. “Because you broke my heart once before, Cam, and I’m not going to give you a chance to do it again.”
“What about the baby we were going to have?”
So much for Ashley’s resolution not to let him break her heart again, because with only those words, it cracked wide open.
She looked away so he wouldn’t see the distress she knew would be reflected in her eyes. Because having a baby with Cam had been her dream for so long, it broke her heart to admit that it just wasn’t going to happen, that they were never going to be the family she wanted.
“Obviously it’s a good thing I figured this out before I got pregnant.”
“How do you know you’re not pregnant?” he demanded.
“I got my period last week.” She uttered the lie without compunction because she didn’t want to put him in the position of having to choose—or maybe she didn’t want to put herself in the position of being rejected again.
“Oh,” he said, and she thought he sounded genuinely disappointed.
“It’s for the best,” she said, though it was another lie. Because she knew that if Cam even suspected the truth, he would never walk out the door. And she needed him to go. She needed to cut him out of her life so that she could get on with hers.
His gaze narrowed. “You expect me to believe that you’ve changed your mind about wanting a baby?”
She shook her head. “Of course not. I’ve just decided to revert to my original plan.”
Because she’d jumped into this arrangement with Cam without thinking it through, without realizing that he already had responsibilities and obligations as a result of his first marriage. And she didn’t want to spend the rest of her life in second place.
“You really want to have a baby fathered by a stranger?”
There was as much anger as disbelief in his tone, and it annoyed Ashley that he thought he had a right to be angry about anything. After all, she wasn’t the one playing house with an ex-spouse.
“I’m not exactly planning on picking up someone in a bar,” she reminded him.
“That would almost be preferable to having your baby’s conception instigated by a catheter,” he shot back.
“Then I’ll be sure to keep that as a backup plan,” she said coolly.
“Don’t do this, Ashley.” He sounded more worried than angry now, as if he’d finally realized that she meant what she’d said. “Don’t shut me out of your life.”
And she did mean what she’d said, even if the thought of watching him walk out on her once more made her heart break all over again. But she had to be strong—or at least make him believe that she was. It was the only way she would get through this.
“I was never looking for a relationship,” she reminded him. “You were the one who tried to turn this into something more.”
“Because I care about you.” He took her hands, as if the physical connection would help her to believe the words he spoke. “I’ve always cared about you.”
And she did believe that he cared about her. But she loved him, and she wouldn’t settle for any less than being loved in return. Not this time.
“If you really care about me, you’ll accept that this is my choice.”
Cam had no intention of accepting Ashley’s decision. At least not without doing everything he could to change her mind. But first he came to some conclusions of his own.
Before Danica left Pinehurst for Chicago, where she would be working on a corporate merger, he decided to set some guidelines and establish firm boundaries to govern future interactions with his ex-wife. For starters, he wanted Danica to commit to seeing Maddie at least four times a year on a regular schedule. He assured her that he would never deny requests for additional visitation, but he’d come to realize that one of the reasons Maddie was so despondent whenever she had to say goodbye to her mother was that she never knew when she would see her again. He also informed Danica that she would have to arrange for her own accommodations for future visits, with Maddie staying overnight with her mother if that was what they both wanted.
To his surprise, Danica didn’t object to any of his terms. And when all was said and done, he felt good about the decisions they’d made. He only wished they’d made those same decisions six months earlier, or at least before Ashley had concluded that she didn’t want to be with a man who was still struggling to fix the mistakes of his past.
As he sat with Maddie in the rooftop parking lot of the airport to watch his ex-wife’s plane lift into the air, he was thinking of Ashley. Missing Ashley.
Apparently Maddie was, too, because he’d barely pulled out of the parking lot when she asked, “Can we go see Ashley now?”
“Oh, honey.” He glanced at the clock on the dash. “It’s too late to go visiting anyone tonight.”
“But you’re still friends with her, aren’t you? You still like her, don’t you?”
“Of course,” he said.
But the truth was, he had no idea if he and Ashley were still friends, and he wanted to be so much more. And although he did like her, that word didn’t begin to describe the depth of his feelings for her.
“Can we see her tomorrow?” Maddie pressed.
“You will see her tomorrow—at school,” he reminded her.
“I like when she comes to visit us at home because then I get to call her Ashley instead of Miss Ashley.”
The dropping of the title was something Ashley and Maddie had decided, and though he worried that his daughter might slip up at school one day, so far she’d been careful. Probably because she was so thrilled to be on a first-name basis with her teacher outside of school that she wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize the privilege.
Of course, she didn’t know that her father had screwed everything up for her—and he was still hoping that he might find a way to fix it before she ever found out.
“But I am excited about going to school tomorrow,” Maddie continued, oblivious to his inner turmoil. “Because we’re going to make up our own fairy tales.”
“That sounds like an ambitious project.”
“Ashley—Miss Ashley—says the best stories are those that show imagination and heart. I thought she was talking about the pictures, and I asked her how to draw a picture of imagination, but she explained that imagination is making something up—telling about something that isn’t real but that you can see in your mind.
�
�Can you see things in your mind, Daddy?”
“I guess I can sometimes.”
“Then you know how to use your imagination,” she told him.
Cam only wished he could imagine the right scenario to get Ashley back in his life.
Instead of their usual brunch, Ashley was meeting her sister and her cousin for a late lunch because Paige was babysitting while a friend went to an appointment. Since she had some time before she was due to meet them, Ashley decided to wander through some of the shops on Rockton Street.
She paused outside of Hush, Little Baby, her attention caught by the gorgeous cherrywood crib and dressing table on display. A recent visit to Dr. Alex had confirmed that the baby she’d wanted for so long would be a reality by the end of next summer, and though she knew it was too early in her pregnancy to think about making any major purchases, she couldn’t resist browsing. Pushing open the door, she stepped inside and found that the store was a lot bigger than it appeared from the front and that the enormous space was divided into several distinctly themed rooms.
She walked past a hugely pregnant woman and her obviously adoring husband discussing infant car seats with one of the salesladies and tried not to think about the fact that, when it came time for her to pick out a car seat, she would be making the decision on her own. She would be making all of the decisions; she would bear all of the responsibilities. And that was okay, because it was her choice. But she knew that her child would miss out on so much if Cam wasn’t part of his or her life.
Pushing the thought aside, she moved into the first room. This one had a sports focus, with dark furniture, bold plaid fabrics and an assortment of books and outfits for sale that continued the theme. She picked up a miniature baseball uniform displayed beside a board book version of “Casey at the Bat.”
Beyond the sports room was a prehistoric setting, with everything and anything dinosaur. Then a vibrant circus-themed room, which she chose to bypass. Although she was sure the bright, primary colors would appeal to a child, there was something about perpetually grinning clown faces that had always creeped her out.
And then she discovered the fairy tale room, where everything was frilly and feminine—a little girl’s dream. Neatly tucked inside the open drawer of a glossy white wardrobe was a frilly little tutu and a pair of tiny pink ballet slippers. She picked up the shoes, marveling at the detail and delicacy, and found herself thinking about Maddie, who loved to twirl and pirouette in her sock feet on the kitchen floor. And Ashley wondered if maybe her daughter would display the same enthusiasm some day, inspired by a tiny pair of ballet slippers just like the ones she was holding.
But it was too early in her pregnancy to begin speculating about whether the baby she was carrying was a boy or a girl, so it was more than a little premature to be thinking about Little League and dreaming of ballet recitals. With a soft, regretful sigh, she put the shoes down and, turning, nearly collided with Cam’s mother.
“This is my favorite room in the whole store,” Gayle told her, her voice low as if she was confessing something she shouldn’t.
“It’s my first time in here,” Ashley admitted. “But I’m amazed.”
“Then I know you’ll be back,” Gayle said. “Because every time there’s something new and different but always wonderful.”
“I’ll definitely be back,” Ashley said, then felt her cheeks color, a reaction that was more telling than her words. But she recovered quickly with the explantion, “Because my sister’s pregnant.”
“Ashley!” Maddie’s voice rang out from across the room, and the little girl skipped over, carrying a floppy-eared bunny that had obviously caught her eye.
Ashley turned, grateful for the interruption that allowed her to pull her foot out of her mouth.
“We’re shopping for baby stuff,” Maddie told her. “’Cause my aunt Sherry’s going to get a baby.”
“Well, that’s exciting news,” Ashley said.
“Are you going to get a baby, too?”
Ashley sucked in a breath, caught off guard by the child’s innocent question. And she knew that’s all it was—the simple curiosity of a six-year-old. “Oh. Someday, I hope.” She forced a smile. “But before I have a baby, I’m going to have a niece or a nephew.”
“I’m getting a cousin,” Maddie said proudly.
“A cousin who will be living in Florida,” Gayle noted with obvious disappointment. “I don’t know why it is that my kids had to go so far away to have their kids. I hate being a long-distance grandparent.”
“Well, at least Cam and Maddie are home now,” Ashley said, as the child wandered off again.
Gayle smiled as she kept a watchful eye on her granddaughter. “And I’m so grateful for that.”
“Look at these, Grandma.” Maddie was back again, this time with the little ballet slippers Ashley had recently admired. “Can we get these so the baby can be a dancer like me?”
Gayle looked at the price tag, winced. “Honey, she won’t even be walking, never mind dancing when she’s wearing shoes that size.”
“But they’re so pretty.” Maddie stroked a finger over the satiny toe.
“And I am such a sucker,” her grandmother laughed as she put the shoes into the basket she carried over one arm. “I can’t tell you how much time—and money—I spent in here when Maddie was a baby. I don’t think a week went by that I wasn’t sending a sleeper or a dress or something out to her. Of course, Cam now blames me for his daughter being a clothes horse, but I figure it’s a grandma’s job to spoil the little ones.”
“I take it Sherry’s expecting a girl?” Ashley prompted.
“Oh, yes. She told me last night. I’d have started shopping as soon as I got the news, except that the store was already closed for the day,” Gayle admitted.
“I’m glad it’s a girl. Girls are better than boys,” Maddie declared. “I think a sister would be better than a cousin, but I have to settle for a cousin because daddies can’t have babies and my mommy isn’t really the nurchring type.”
“Maddie,” her grandmother admonished gently.
“That’s what you told Grandpa.”
“I’m sure I did,” Gayle admitted in an undertone to Ashley. “But I wouldn’t have said it if I’d known she was within hearing distance.”
Ashley smiled. “I teach first grade,” she reminded the older woman. “Believe me, I understand only too well how they can forget direct instruction but recite verbatim something they should never have overheard.”
“What’s nurchring?” Maddie asked Ashley.
“I think you mean nurturing,” she said, scrambling to come up with a definition that wouldn’t paint the little girl’s mother in a completely negative light. “And it means to, uh, help grow or develop.”
“Daddy says I grow like a weed, so maybe I don’t need any more nurchring,” Maddie decided. “Babies need help because they start out small, but I bet I could help.”
“I’m sure you’d be a very big help,” Ashley said, somehow forcing the words out through the tightness in her throat. And because she knew she would have a complete meltdown if she didn’t get out of the store in the next thirty seconds, she said, “I have to run. I’m meeting Megan and Paige for lunch.”
Then she fled, leaving Cam’s daughter staring after her, and holding a huge piece of her heart.
Cam frowned at the stack of folders on his desk. It was almost seven o’clock, the last patient had walked out the door more than an hour earlier and he still had another hour or more of paperwork to finish. Thankfully his mother had agreed to take Maddie to ballet class so that he could stay late and try to catch up, but he refused to stay past eight o’clock—his daughter’s bedtime.
He had been a part of her bedtime routine from the day she was born. Of course, the routine then had been much simpler: a bottle and a cuddle—no snacks, drinks, checks for under-the-bed-monsters or stories required. But no matter how much the routine had changed and expanded over the years, Cam continued to cher
ish those quiet moments with his daughter.
On a few occasions, when Ashley had been over as Maddie was getting ready for bed, his daughter had asked her teacher to do story time instead. Cam wasn’t really offended by her claims that Ashley told “the best stories” because he’d only had to listen to her once to know it was true.
He missed those story times. Or maybe he just missed Ashley.
Okay, no maybe about it—he did miss Ashley. And he was thinking, hoping, that if he gave her some time, she would soon realize that she missed him, too.
He opened the next folder on top of the pile, determined to push all thoughts of Ashley out of his mind and focus on his work so that he could be home for Maddie’s bedtime.
Andy Robichaud was the name on the file. The elderly gentleman had come in a few weeks earlier, complaining of frequent and painful urination. Cam knew the cause could be something as simple as a urinary tract infection or as complicated as prostate cancer, so he’d ordered a series of tests to correctly identify the root of the problem.
The report from PDA Labs was on the top. He picked it up and skimmed the codes, the numbers, and struggled to make sense of the results. Because according to the paper, Mr. Robichaud was pregnant.
The report he was reading obviously belonged in someone else’s file, not in that of a seventy-nine-year-old man—unless his patient was truly a medical miracle.
He was smiling at that impossibility when his gaze automatically shifted to the patient ID box at the top of the page. His smile slipped.
The test results were Ashley’s.
Chapter Fourteen
When Ashley got home from her book club meeting Friday night, Cam was sitting in the dark on her front porch. If she’d been able to see him, she might have wondered why he was there. But she’d forgotten to leave the exterior lights on again and it was only when she stepped onto the path leading to the door that the sensor lights revealed his presence.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he demanded.
Her heart had jolted at the sight of him and now pounded crazily inside of her chest. It wasn’t simply because she hadn’t seem him in a while, but that she’d never seen him like this—his eyes hard, his jaw set, anger practically radiating off of him in waves.
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