she’d had Holly. What the hell. She tugged it down over her hips. No sense being neurotic about this. Getting rid of all her clothes wasn’t practical. Likely he wouldn’t even remember, or care about the associated memories if he did.
She stood at the dresser to brush her hair. Was she trying to look nice for him? No, her hair was ruffled from the shower cap. She would have done it for anyone. She ran the brush through her hair with her vigorous strokes. She hated second-guessing everything she did. As if she was nervous.
Although if she was honest, she did want to look her best around Darcy. She wanted him to regret that he’d lost her. What did it matter if it was out of vanity or pride? She would hate him to think she’d fallen apart without him.
She was the organized one, the one in control of herself and her life. He was the one who always had projects planned that never got finished. Even though he was a hard worker, he tended to procrastinate. Look at the pub. He should have at least painted when he’d taken over from his dad, but had he? No. He hadn’t changed a single thing regardless of how tired or worn-out the pub appeared.
Not that she cared what Darcy did with the pub or anything else.
He was perusing her bookshelf stuffed with crime novels when she came out. Only because he was too impatient to sit, not because he would ever actually read a book, God forbid. Funny how the things she’d overlooked as being unimportant when they were married had became huge deficiencies once they’d split. How could she have married a man who didn’t read? Who would rather do any activity at all rather than sit quietly with a book?
She perched on the edge of the couch, resisting the urge to tuck her hands between her knees. “What can I do for you?”
He sat in the chair opposite, his legs sprawled and his arms relaxed. “I wanted to apologize for my reaction last week. It can’t have been easy for you to come there and tell me you were pregnant, not after...everything.”
It had taken him a whole week to come around to that conclusion? He had her phone number. He could have called to say this. Or emailed. Or sent her a text message. She supposed he deserved points for saying it in person.
“I hope you’ve recovered from your shock enough to realize I didn’t get pregnant on purpose. I knew how you felt about having another child. I wouldn’t knowingly bring a kid into the world whose father didn’t want him.”
“I believe you.”
A tiny wash of relief took the tension out of her shoulders. Even after all they’d been through, his opinion still mattered to her and she hated to think he believed her capable of something so underhanded and manipulative. Part of what she’d always loved about him was how he looked for, and saw, the best in people.
She leaned back and smoothed out the hem of her blouse. “Why are you here?”
“I was worried about you. I wanted to see how you were.”
“As you can see, I’m fine.” She gestured around the apartment. “I’ve got a nice place to live. I’ve got my job. I’m pregnant. Even though the situation wasn’t planned and I’m going to be a single mum instead of having a family, I’m really happy about the baby. Everything’s working out.” She brightened and leaned forward again. “And I’ve just been accepted into the master’s of nursing program.”
“The master’s program?” He frowned. “Are you still going to have time for that? Even when we were together and you were only nursing part-time you found it hard to juggle work and caring for Holly.”
No thanks to him! She opened her mouth, wanting to snap out that she would have found studying easier if he’d helped out more, taken an active role in baby care instead of always, always going to the pub.
Yes, Darcy worked long hours and she’d been part-time—they’d needed both incomes. But that didn’t stop her from resenting the time he spent at the pub. He loved socializing with customers and his friends who dropped in. Sometimes she wondered if he’d loved the social scene more than her and Holly. And though she could never prove it, and he would deny it if asked, she wondered if he spent more time there than strictly necessary to get away from the chaotic home