to just let it out?
Because you’re afraid she won’t return it.
Her hand was still tracing the tat. I covered her fingers with mine to stop the motion and to get her attention. “Soraya…I Io—”
“Graham, I’m late.”
Late?
“What?”
“I’m late.”
“You’re late? What do you mean? Late for what?”
“My period. I’m late. I’m scared.”
I blinked several times. “You think you might be pregnant?”
“I’m on the pill. It’s unlikely, but I’m never late. So, I’m worried. I just looked at the calendar and realized it today.”
Well, now her bizarre mood made total sense.
“Could there be other reasons to explain it?”
“I read that stress can cause a delay sometimes. So, I’m hoping that’s what it is. This is the last thing you need right now.”
“You’re worried about me?”
“Yes. Of course, I am! You’re just coming to grips with having one child. This would be too much.” She buried her face in her hands. “Too fucking much.”
I moved her hands down from her face and pulled her into me. “Soraya, I agree the timing wouldn’t be ideal, but make no mistake about it, the idea of you carrying my baby brings me nothing but happiness. I don’t think you’re ready…no…but if it happened, I would look at it as a blessing.”
She looked up at me. “Really?”
“Yes…really.” I cupped her cheeks, smiled and repeated, “Really.”
“Thank you for saying that because I’ve been so scared to even mention it.”
“Don’t be scared. You never have to go through anything alone again.”
I needed to know.
“Can we take a test?” I asked.
“I don’t know if I’m ready. I don’t want to take it too early anyway, might get a false result. I’ll wait until after this weekend…once we have the party behind us. Then, we’ll do it.”
“Whatever you want.”
I knew from the look on her face that she was praying she wasn’t carrying my baby.
Was I crazy for wishing the opposite?
CHAPTER 23
SORAYA
THE TWO-HOUR DRIVE OUT to East Hampton on Saturday morning was surprisingly smooth with little to no traffic. Considering it was Memorial Day weekend, we’d been expecting worse. It was still early in the season with cooler weather, so maybe the majority of New Yorkers hadn’t yet begun their weekend retreats out of the city.
Graham had given Louis the weekend off, preferring to drive his Beemer to the Hamptons. He had the windows down, so my hair was blowing around wildly in the wind. We were both donning sunglasses. Life was good. I had vowed not to let my late period or the impending encounter with Genevieve today ruin this weekend getaway.
Graham had booked us a room at a bed and breakfast for tonight close to Genevieve’s property. We’d be heading straight to the party, though, since he didn’t want to be late. The backseat was filled with gifts wrapped in pastel paper. Apparently, Graham felt he needed to make up for all of Chloe’s birthdays that he’d missed. He’d ordered his secretary to practically clean out the girls’ section at Toys“R”Us.
During the ride, Graham was being particularly attentive to my needs, asking me if I was okay, if I needed water, if I was cold. I knew the slim possibility that I could be pregnant was constantly on his mind. It was constantly on mine, too.
It hadn’t really surprised me that he took the news that my period was late so well. Graham would be a wonderful father; he was already proving that. He was in a place in his life where he was ready for it. I, on the other hand, still wasn’t even sure I wanted kids, so the prospect of a pregnancy, especially given the current situation with Chloe, was terrifying. We were definitely on different pages as far as that was concerned.
At one point during the ride, Graham turned to me. “Have you ever been to the Hamptons?”
“Never. Rockaway and Coney Island have been it for me. I’ve always wanted to go out there, though, just never had the chance, nor the money to book a place.”
“I think you’ll love it. There are a lot of little galleries and shops. We’ll have to do some exploring tomorrow.”
“I’m just happy to be getting out of the city. It doesn’t matter what we do.”
“Well, I’d like to take you on a real vacation soon. Work should calm down in the next couple of months. Think about where you’d want to go...St. Barts, Hawaii, Europe. There are so many choices. I’ll charter a jet.”
“Okay, Mr. Fancy Pants. But you can choose, because I haven’t been anywhere. It doesn’t matter