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He felt the brush of disgust. ‘You’re better than that, Thea.’
She glared at him, then drew in a deep breath.
‘I’m sorry. Maybe you’re right. Maybe I should have called as soon as I knew. But I thought you’d walked out on me—I believed you didn’t want anything to do with me—and I didn’t see the point in involving you in something you wouldn’t want to be a part of. Or at least something I thought you wouldn’t want to be a part of.’
He stared at her in disbelief. Realisation dawned.
‘Wait. You thought I wouldn’t want it? That I’d suggest you terminate it?’
He felt physically sick.
‘I didn’t know!’ she cried, spreading her hands helplessly. Then she stopped to fix him with her direct gaze. Her voice was calmer, firm. ‘I just didn’t know, Ben. You must see that.’
He felt as if he’d just been punched in the solar plexus and was struggling to draw breath. Was that really how she felt about him?
‘I see.’
They both stood, motionless. Neither quite sure where to go or what to do.
He wanted to say more.
There was nothing left to say.
Ben turned around, looking for the sleigh. If the journey over here had been strained, the return leg was going to be excruciating. But there was nothing else for it.
His arm felt like a ten-ton weight as he signalled the driver and marched over. Thea followed behind, reluctance emanating from her with every step. As before, he offered her his hand, but unlike before she took it awkwardly, trying to maintain as little contact as possible while still accep
ting his help with cold politeness. He practically vaulted up into the sleigh behind her, watching her scoot as far away from him as possible, and tugging a blanket up around her neck, her face turned away.
Even in the moonlight her profile looked so full of misery that he was hit with remorse. This evening was supposed to have been about him opening up to her. Now his head was roiling and tumbling and he was unable to work out how he felt, let alone comfort Thea. He knew he was angry. He just didn’t know at whom or about what.
He had a feeling it was himself.
* * *
Thea stared at the ceiling. The bed was a jumbled mess from where she’d been tossing and turning for the last five hours.
Tonight had been absolute purgatory. She’d expected it would be—that was exactly why she had dreaded telling him, had put it off again and again. However, she had never once imagined that it would be such a nightmare because he would feel so hurt. She had expected panic, anger, relief. She had never considered devastation, anger, loss.
Now that she was beginning to come down from the peak of her rampaging emotions she wasn’t sure what to make of it. Turning over to her right side and then back to her left proved no more satisfactory. Sleep wasn’t to be her friend tonight. She threw off the covers and grabbed her fleece jacket, hoping that she could resurrect something of the fire from its smouldering embers, and padded out into the living room.
She saw that Ben was staring into the flames of a roaring fire the moment she walked through the door. She froze, but it was too late.
‘Can’t sleep either,’ he murmured. ‘I’ve just made coffee. Do you want one?’
‘Please.’ She matched his tone, grateful that they didn’t appear to be about to start arguing again.
She sat on the other couch, the warmth of the fire seeping into her bones and making her feel better—if only a little bit. Then Ben was back with her coffee.
‘I’m sorry. Maybe I should have told you...’
‘I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have reacted like that...’
They both spoke, and stopped, in unison.
Thea flushed. ‘Go ahead.’
‘I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have reacted that way,’ Ben apologised. ‘Just the idea of you not telling me, going through it alone—whichever way it played out... Either an absentee father, or a man who leaves the woman he got pregnant to deal with everything alone—that isn’t the man I would ever have chosen to be. And then to think of what you had to go through... It just isn’t the person I want to think of myself as.’
