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“I won’t have you here out of a sense of duty,” she said instead. “And I know that’s what this is about.”
“You can’t know that,” he argued, strengthening her belief. “Only I can know what’s going on inside me.”
She noticed he hadn’t denied her accusation. “I know you, Michael.” She made to slide down from the cupboard and he was there, assisting her to a kitchen chair as though she were some kind of invalid.
His courtesy, coming as it did out of a sense of duty, not shared love, hurt her more than she’d have thought possible.
“I can do it myself,” she said, shaking him off.
“Fine.” He sat, as well.
“So you’re suggesting this because it’s what you want above all else.”
“I know that it’s right for me to be here where I’m needed.”
“I don’t need you here,” she told him truthfully. Not in the way he thought. Not for practical or financial maintenance. She could take care of herself—and her babies—just fine. She was beginning to suspect he didn’t even understand how she needed him, and if that was the case, he’d never be able to provide for that need. She needed him emotionally, elementally, more deeply than anything physical. She needed him in a way that was stronger than any other connection in her life. She needed him to need her, too. Needed to be a priority to him, not a pasttime.
He watched her silently for several minutes, his jaw twitching slightly from tension.
“I can’t believe you said that.” He broke the silence that had fallen, speaking stiffly. “We both know it isn’t true.”
“I know no such thing.” She adopted his tone. “Dr. Goodman said just this afternoon that I’m fine here alone—”
“But after the babies come—”
“I can afford a nanny,” she finished before he had a chance to. She couldn’t allow him to convince her, even a little bit, that his being there was necessary. Because his being there wasn’t right.
“A nanny doesn’t take the place of a father.”
“And neither does a man whose heart isn’t in it.”
He sighed heavily, leaning his forearms on the table. “I’m trying here, Sus.”
“I know.” She put every ounce of love she had for him into those two words.
“I want you to marry me again, soon.”
She’d heard that in her dreams a million times. And in her dreams, the answer was always yes.
“Before the babies are born, you mean?” she asked now.
“Of course.”
“So they’re legitimate.”
“Exactly,” he said, obviously breathing a little easier with what he saw as her capitulation.
“No.” Never had a word hurt so much. Never had she been more sure of anything in her life.
“No?”
“No.” He’d better get it soon. She didn’t know how much longer she could hold out.
She’d created this mess and it was up to her to fix it. She’d made his life hell, and now she had to put things right for him.
His face a study in disbelief, he said, “You won’t marry me.”
“No, I won’t marry you.”
