“Can I get you a coffee?” I ask.
“No,” he says. “Thank you.” His voice drips with sarcasm.
I rest my butt on the table and link my fingers, trying to keep my posture relaxed. He stands in front of me, breathing fast.
I have no idea why he’s here or why he’s furious. Has he found out that I’m already working on a summary report before they’ve agreed to the partnership? It’s standard business practice, though. I can’t imagine why he’d be so upset.
“What can I do for you, Caesar?” I ask softly. “Why are you here?”
“Apparently you’ve announced that you’re pregnant,” he says. “Is it true?”
My jaw drops. The only people I’ve told are the ones who were at the meeting yesterday, and my mother, when I got home. I didn’t swear them all to silence, so it doesn’t surprise me that they might have told their partners or other members of the company. But I am shocked that the news got to him so fast.
“Yes,” I say. “It’s true.”
His brows draw together. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
I look down at his shiny black Oxford brogues. “I wasn’t sure whether I was going to keep it at first. I needed to make that decision before I announced it.”
“But you knew. At Blackridge. You knew you were pregnant.”
I moisten my lips with the tip of my tongue and nod.
“You should have told me.” He runs his hand through his hair. “I could have hurt you.”
That one sentence sucks all the air from my lungs. “You were incredibly gentle, Caesar. And the baby’s safe. You would never have hurt me.”
“I should have guessed. I feel stupid. The nausea, the vomiting, the tiredness. I should have put two and two together.”
“I do get migraines,” I say, not wanting him to feel bad. “It wasn’t a complete lie.” Except it was, of course, and we both know it.
He takes his hands off his hips and slides them into his trouser pockets. He’s come out without his suit jacket. Did he walk straight out of the office when he found out?
I pick at my nails nervously. We study each other in silence for about thirty seconds.
Then he says, “Have you told him?”
“Yes,” I say. “He was quite surprised.”
“I bet he was. What was the outcome?”
“Well, it’s none of his business. It’s not going to affect him much.”
He stares at me. “What are you talking about?”
I frown. “I mean, he was pleased, but he’s not going to get involved. Babies aren’t his thing.”
“It’s not about whether they’re ‘his thing,’” he says sarcastically. “He has a duty to be involved.”
I’m puzzled. “He wants the best for me, sure. But my body is my own.”
“Of course it is, but even if you’re not together, he still needs to stand by you.”
Now I’m completely confused. “What do you mean, ‘not together’?”
“I mean even if you decide not to get back with him, he’s still the father. He needs to step up and support you.”
My jaw drops for the second time. “Ohhh… you’re talking about Peter…”
