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Ella
When Josh left my office, I closed the door and the encouraging smile I had plastered on my face fell. I sat down at my desk and had a quick cry.
It was completely silly of me to cry about it. Josh had several sexual partners between his breakup with Christie and meeting me. There was nothing wrong with it. He had always been very careful when we made love to use a condom, not wanting to take a risk and I appreciated that. I realized that if he did get the woman pregnant, it had been a total accident, and not due to him being an uncaring lout.
Still, it would mean he had a child in the world with another woman -- a child he would look after and be responsible for. That child, and not one of ours, would be his firstborn. It was silly of me, but my perfect little world got a small dent in it.
I felt totally small and petty, but I also felt this profound sense of sadness. I wanted him to be my only husband and I his only wife. I wanted our family to be his only family. If the baby was his, that would mean he always had another family, even if he didn't love the child's mother. Then I kicked myself. I shouldn't be thinking that way. I should be thinking that if this baby was his, it was his baby. His child. It was a product of him, and I loved him more than anything.
I would love his child, even if it wasn't mine.
I wiped my eyes and picked up the manuscript I was currently reading and tried to continue. The whole business was completely out of my hands and so there was nothing I could do but support Josh in whatever happened.
That's what a good fiancée would do. If I was going to be his fiancée, I would be the very best kind possible.
For the next hour before the end of the day, I tried to keep my mind off the issue and focus on my work. When five thirty rolled around, I shut off my computer and cleaned off my desk, putting my files away. I popped my head into Sharon's office and said goodnight, checking if our breakfast meeting was on, and then I went up to the penthouse.
Josh was still working, so I went into the kitchen and checked out the refrigerator to see what we might have for supper. There was frozen chicken in the freezer, and some limp looking carrots in the bottom of the crisper. But there was a lemon, and I had lots of garlic and olive oil and a container of oregano in the spice drawer. I could make Greek Chicken with rice pilaf.
So I did. Cooking helped take my mind off the situation, and with some music playing in the background, I was able to spend the next hour preparing the meal, then cooking it. By the time Josh arrived, the chicken was finishing in the oven, the rice pilaf was steaming away on the stove and I had a cold bottle of beer ready for him. Mine was already half empty.
"Here," I said and handed him his bottle. "You need this after the day you've had."
"You got that right," he said.
I held my bottle up for a toast. He exhaled and we clinked bottles together. Then, he took a long sip before sitting at the island. I went to him and he pulled me into his arms, kissing me before taking another sip.
"I smell something delicious," he said and glanced at the kitchen. "What's cooking? It smells Mediterranean."
"Greek Chicken stuffed with feta in a lemon garlic sauce. Rice pilaf. Roasted carrots."
"Mmm," he said and closed his eyes. "Sounds delicious. I'm glad it's your night to manage supper. I'm exhausted and just want to crash on the sofa and watch something mindless."
"That sounds exactly like I feel, so you're on."
While I finished the chicken, adding some butter and wine to make the sauce, Josh set the table and we sat down for our meal. Outside, the sun had set, and the lights of the city were visible for miles. It was a great view.
"I'll miss this great vista when we move into our new place, but we still have a pretty sweet view."
"It's going to be fantastic," Josh said and we had another toast. "To our new life together."
"To our new life. Together, we can manage anything that comes our way."
After we finished our meal and cleaned up, we went to the living room and snuggled on the sofa. Josh took over the remote and flipped through channels, looking for something interesting to watch. In the end, he settled on a game, with sound turned down low. He pulled me closer, his arm around my shoulder, and put his feet up on the coffee table.
"So, tell me how you're doing," he said, his voice soft.
"I'm fine," I said and laid my head against his shoulder.
He turned and caught my eye, his expression serious. "Tell me the truth. How are you feeling about it? You must be upset."
I gave him a weak
smile. "I won't lie and say it didn't upset me, but more for you than out of jealousy."
He nodded, but then I kicked myself. "No, let me correct that. I am jealous. If this is your baby, it will be your first child, not the ones you have with me."
"I'm so sorry about this," Josh said and shook his head. "I've always been so careful about it, because my father drummed it into us as young men that we had to be responsible. But that night, I was a little too drunk."
