He was back shortly with a couple of glasses and a large bottle of water. He said, “I’d better stay sober for this, I think.”
In a flash I remembered the night we spent together and blushed. Without meeting his eyes I took the glass he offered me.
“How are you? How are you feeling?”
“All right,” I said warily. “Thanks.”
“Great. So I thought it would be a good idea to meet up and talk through all our options.”
Instantly I was irritated, but I stayed quiet. I didn’t know where to start.
“So.” He seemed a bit unnerved and I saw a faint sheen of perspiration on his forehead. “Do you know the due date?”
“I’m not talking to you about it until I can show you proof that Harry is the father. And then there won’t be any point in talking about it at all.”
He ignored this. “He’s not the father. I know it would be more convenient for you if he was, but he isn’t. Come on, Emma. Think of the likelihood of that. You need to get used to the idea.”
Now it was my turn to ignore what he said. Two could play at that game. “So I’m just here to say that I’ll be getting a DNA test done to reassure you . . .”
He interrupted me. “When? When will you be having the test?”
I tried to keep my face impassive. I really didn’t want him to know this. If the test showed he was the father, I needed time to decide what to do. “I don’t know yet. I’ll speak to my doctor.”
“Because you can get tested now. I’ve been online . . .”
I interrupted him. “I’ll get the test done after the baby’s born. There’s no argument about that. In the meantime I don’t want to see you. I don’t want you to hang around my house. I don’t want to go for a coffee with you or to the pub. I don’t want to be here now. I want you to leave me alone.”
“You must be joking! Everything you do—every single thing you do—is my business now.”
“What?”
“You’re carrying my child and I need to make sure that you’re keeping it healthy. I want to come to your hospital appointments with you. The scans. And when it’s born, we are going to share the care of it.”
I stared at him, unable to believe what I was hearing.
“I’m going for fifty-fifty custody, by the way,” he said. “I should have done that when Belinda and I split up but it wasn’t so common then. I’m not going to make that mistake again. I’m not having another man seeing more of my child than I do myself.”
“No way. Don’t even think about it.”
“There’s no point arguing.” He leaned forward; he seemed excited, fired up with adrenaline. I swear he was getting off on the challenge. “Ruby and I own that house outright. When it’s sold I’ll have enough for a smaller house and I’ll be able to work part-time, so I’ll be able to do my share of childcare.” I opened my mouth to object but he continued, “And I’ve got enough savings to stop work altogether for a few years if I need to. So if you want to work full-time, that’s fine.”
“Are you insane? You’re not going to have my baby half of the time!”
“Once the first three months have passed, yes. It’s our baby, Emma. You’ve got to stop being so selfish. It’s our baby: yours and mine. You might be the person carrying it, but once it’s born, it’s no more yours than it is mine.”
I knew that I’d never see Harry again if he heard what Tom was saying now. There was the slightest chance he’d stay with me if it was another man’s child, but not if that man was going to demand fifty-fifty childcare. And not if that man was Tom. Why would he? My heart raced at the thought of losing Harry and seeing my baby only half of the week.