An Act of Persuasion - By Stephanie Doyle Page 0,24
sounded like a date request, but she knew it wasn’t. Instead her meal would include a side lecture on the merits of marriage and the benefits a child had being raised in a two-parent home. By now he would no doubt have statistics and hard-core facts at his fingertips.
“I don’t know that we have anything to talk about.”
“Well, how about...our child?” His jaw clenched and she could see she was making him angry again. It was so strange to watch his emotions like this when he’d never shown any emotion at all.
Except that night. That night when everything had changed. When she’d looked into his face and seen—
But she hadn’t. She had only thought she’d seen his affection. Because a man who truly cared about a woman didn’t shut her out of his life after sex. Instead he let her in.
“That’s my point. Is there anything new to discuss now? Biology demands the kid’s living with me for at least the next six months. When it’s out, we can talk again.”
She watched the incredulousness in his expression and wondered if she’d looked the same way when he said they would get married.
“To quote you, oh, hell no.”
Okay, maybe she’d been foolish to think he would cool his heels until after the baby was born. But the truth was she was struggling with seeing him again. Apparently, three months hadn’t been long enough to get him out of her system. If she were honest with herself, three lifetimes probably wouldn’t be enough.
Looking at him now, she thought about how happy she was to see the color in his cheeks, even knowing she’d put it there by pissing him off. She was struck by the desire to cup his face in her hand and tell him how glad she was that he was still alive.
God, she’d missed him. Missed him like nothing she’d ever known in her life. More than she’d missed her own mother after she’d left. It had been pure hell waiting day to day to find out from the hospital if his status had changed. Spitefully, he’d removed her from the list of people allowed access to his health information. The only thing the hospital could confirm was his status.
Every day she called, every day the same answer. Stable. Until finally she knew that he wasn’t getting worse and his body wasn’t going to reject the new cells.
He’d won his battle. But she still had lost everything.
Until that little white stick turned bright pink.
“What do you want, then?”
“I want to have dinner with you. I’ve missed...eating with you.”
“That was a nice thing to say.”
“I didn’t say it to be nice. I said it because it’s the truth. We were together for six years and you just... You were gone. Was it easy for you? Was it easy to walk away?”
The intensity in his expression startled her. He was closer to her now, nearly pressing her against the car door until she felt the handle dig into her spine.
“How can you ask that?” she said, her heart suddenly beating in her throat. “How can you—” She put her hand against his chest. His heart was beating fast, too. “Oh, no, you don’t get to play the guilt game with me.”
“Don’t I? I was in the hospital and you didn’t come to see me. Not once.”
Because she couldn’t. She couldn’t pretend anymore that he cared about her. And being there as some disinterested employee/part-time nurse...it was just too painful.
Still, she hadn’t known that he would miss...eating with her.
“If you want to take me to dinner, we can talk. But it’s got to be about the future and this child and that’s it. I’m not talking about the past.”
He smirked. “The past? It was only three months ago. But fine, I’ll take it. We’ll leave your car in the garage and take mine.”
He pulled out his key fob and pressed a button unlocking the doors and Anna got in. Their only conversation was about where to eat and, ultimately, he drove them the few blocks to Market where he’d heard of a French BYOB restaurant that was supposed to be amazing. Since she couldn’t drink and he drank infrequently, they didn’t bother picking up wine to take with them.
When they were seated Anna eyed the menu in front of her with some reservations. French cuisine and pregnancy apparently didn’t mix, because most of the items—food that she would have fawned over a few months ago—were now making her queasy.