“Mom,” I whispered, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. Hearing her voice set me off even more, and the poor woman fretted while I tried to calm down enough to speak.
“Lila, baby? Please take a deep breath before I jump on a plane to the wrong island.”
I laughed, the sound strange among my sobs. “I’m pregnant.”
Silence. Then:
“Oh, baby!” Mom breathed, and I could almost feel her love down the phone. “That’s okay! You’ll be okay. How do you feel?”
“It’shisbaby,” I moaned, aware of the curious looks I was getting from passersby. Mainly couples holding hands, which made me feel even worse.
“Hey,” Mom said, her voice soft. “It’syourbaby too. And you loved him, before you knew any of this, so that baby was conceived in love.”
I nodded and gulped. She was right, but now? Now there was nothing.
“It’s not the baby’s fault,” I said, staring at my stomach. “I’m so old, mom, I thought it was the perimenopause.”
“It could’ve been, but fate works in mysterious ways.” Mom laughed. “You need to come home. You can’t be pregnant and alone out there.”
I took in the pretty street with whitewashed buildings and bright flowers lining the road. The sun beamed down on me, and I honestly couldn’t think of a better place to be when the shit hit the fan.
The thought of flying home and facing Victor—I sucked in a breath and shut my eyes against the image.
“I fly home next week anyway,” I explained heavily. “Can I stay with you for a few days when I get back? I can’t face Victor, not like this.”
“Of course, baby; are you going to tell him?” Mom asked gently, like she was speaking to a child.
I hadn’t even thought of that. Of course, he’d have to know—he had a right. But fuck…
Pregnant.
I had to come to terms with myself first.
Graham stared at me. “Pregnant?”
I nodded, spinning my water glass around. “Yep.”
Graham downed his coffee and promptly ordered another with Irish cream in it. The server gazed at us but said nothing. There was no mention of magic tricks now.
“Shit.”
“Yeah,” I said, sneaking a glance at the man who had become my friend in the space of two weeks. “I’m sorry, it’s a lot for you to take in.”
Graham sighed. “Yeah, but it’s not about me. What are you going to do? About the baby?”
I frowned and looked at him, my fingers stilling on the glass. “Do?” I echoed.
Graham nodded. “Are you keeping it? I mean, you’re getting a divorce…”
I felt like he’d slapped me, yet it was a perfectly normal question.
“I’m keeping my baby, yes.” My response was icy, and he flinched.
“Okay, I was just asking.”
But he’d pissed me off with his fucking question. I refused to look at him, angry that he’d even asked. Why would Inothave my baby?
“You think I should get rid of it?” The words were like whips to my skin.
