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“James.”
God, now he was hearing things. But if he was, Kristen imagined it, too, because her gaze moved to behind him where he instinctively knew Melissa stood. No one else made his heart hammer like a wildebeest stampede across the Serengeti.
He turned.
Glancing back and forth between him and Kristen, Melissa stood just inside the doorway. Hurt and accusation blanched her face.
Thank God, she’d finally come.
Kristen stepped back. “I’m going to call it a night.” She got her purse from a cabinet and shot him a quick glance. “Remember what I said, James. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
He nodded, his gaze remaining on Melissa. How could someone look so good and so bad all at the same time?
“Nice to see you, again,” Kristen acknowledged as she walked past the thin woman. “Congrats on your pregnancy.”
Melissa’s gaze grew more accusing. Had she not wanted him to tell anyone she was pregnant? Did she think no one would notice the soft swell beneath her blue blouse? Or, despite her weight loss, how her breasts were fuller?
When Kristen was gone, Melissa closed the door. The door that usually would have been closed, but he’d been distracted.
Once they were alone in the room, she seemed unsure what to say. Awkward seconds passed.
“I have an ultrasound scheduled for tomorrow morning here at Vanderbilt. For the baby,” she clarified. “Dr McGowan wants to confirm my due date as my last period was so scanty. Based on that and his palpation of my uterus, he thinks I’m five months pregnant rather than four.”
Five months? James felt the blood drain from his face. He studied her belly more closely, wondering if it was possible. He’d have even less time to cope with becoming a father. He didn’t speak, just waited for her to tell him why she’d come.
She hesitated, closed her eyes, and took a deep breath. “I thought you might like to be there. For the ultrasound, I mean.”
“OK.” He wasn’t sure how he was going to deal with a baby, but if Melissa wanted him there, he’d go.
&nb
sp; She appeared surprised at his quick answer. He bit his tongue and waited.
“I’m really sorry about that night.” Standing in front of the door, clenching and unclenching her fingers, she looked frail, unsure of herself. “I wanted to be home.”
“It’s OK.”
“No, it’s not.” She blew out a pent-up breath. “If it had been OK, you’d have been there when I got home.”
“True,” he admitted, wondering why he’d said it was OK to begin with. Nothing about falling at the end of Melissa’s priority list was OK.
CHAPTER FIVE
JAMES fought telling Melissa just how un-OK her not coming home had been. At this point, what did it matter? She’d made her bed, now was the time to lie in it. Wasn’t that his intention?
“You packed your clothes,” she said, watching him closely.
“Yes.” If tossing his things into garbage bags that still lined a friend’s spare bedroom wall counted as packing.
“You’re not coming back, are you?” Her voice wobbled, but her gaze remained steady, boring into him with their chocolate depths.
It would be so easy to give in, to beg her to let him come home. They could kiss and make up and pretend everything was fine. It’s what he wanted to do. Particularly the kissing and making up part.
Going home wouldn’t solve anything. It would just expose his heart to the next round of her careless arrows.
But, looking at her, seeing the hesitation in her eyes, he yearned to take her in his arms and kiss away the pain.
“No,” he answered, knowing the best gift he could give Melissa was to open her eyes. The best gift he could give a son or daughter he was afraid of was to make sure Melissa put their child first in her life. “I’m not coming back.”
