Page 42 of Irish Vow


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Liam swings before Alexandre can see it coming. His fist connects squarely with the Frenchman’s jaw, the sound reverberating in the room as Alexandre recovers, lurching forward to throw his own punch toward Liam. But Liam is a trained boxer—Alexandre might be fit and muscular, but he’s not a fighter. He doesn’t know how to move or dodge, and he misses both of the blows he tries to strike before Liam grabs him by the front of the shirt and throws him against the counter, the pregnancy tests scattering everywhere as the two men tussle. A soap dish goes flying, cracking against the tiled floor and shattering. I gasp, inching backward, away from the fight as Liam throws Alexandre into the shower doors, the glass shuddering so that for a moment, I think it might splinter.

“Stop!” I scream, my hands covering my mouth as I try not to burst into tears. Alexandre manages to land a hit, his fist connecting with Liam’s jaw, and I cry out, scrambling to my feet and flinging myself towards the two men. “Please, stop! Stop it! Stop!”

I’m screaming it over and over, and Liam gets one more blow in, sending Alexandre sprawling to the tiled floor before he realizes that I’ve thrown myself into the fray and steps back, panting as he looks down at the bruised man on the floor.

“Get up, Alexandre,” I say faintly, feeling overwhelmed with how quickly the situation has escalated. The plastic tests are scattered across the floor, the detritus of this awful nightmare we’ve found ourselves in.

“I should have killed you in Paris,” Liam snarls at Alexandre. “I should have made sure you were fucking dead, you—”

“Stop!” I shout it again, looking between the two men. “Alexandre,get up.”

“I’m trying,” Alexandre says tersely, pushing himself up with the slowness of a man who hurts in every joint. “Your Irish lover shot me in Paris, or don’t you remember? Those wounds are still healing, and now he’s injured me again.”

“And yet you keep surviving. Like a cockroach, you and that chain-smoking bitch—” There’s no mistaking the black fury in Liam’s voice and on his face. “I’ll rip you both apart—”

“Listen to me, both of you.” I step between them as Alexandre stands shakily, holding onto the wall for balance. “Either of you could be the father. I don’t like that, but it’s true. Whether one is more likely than the other—that’s not something we’re going to talk about right now.I’mthe one carrying your potential child, which meansI’mthe one you don’t want to upset right now. I need you both to stop—I need to think. I need a minute.”

To my surprise, both men actually go silent. I take a deep breath, pushing the heels of my hands into my eyes as I try desperately not to cry. Slowly, I make my way past them, scooping test after test off the floor and depositing them in a pile on the countertop. Then, just as slowly, I turn to face the two men again, using every bit of strength I have left not to collapse into a panicked, melting puddle onto the floor.

I need someone right now, and no one seems able to be there for me. I suddenly, desperately want Sofia, my best friend, the person who doesn’t have any interest in this fight except for what’s best for me. But she’s not here, and I know that both Liam and Alexandre, at this moment, are too caught up in their own emotions to pay attention to mine.

“I need to talk to both of you,” I say quietly. “But separately.”

“I—” Alexandre starts to speak up, but I shake my head firmly, gritting my teeth in an effort to stay calm.

“Liam, can you please step out for a minute?” I ask it as calmly as I can, gripping the edges of the countertop as I lean back against it. “I want to talk to Alexandre.”

The look on Liam’s face is instantly one of shocked hurt. I know he wasn’t expecting me to send him out first. But I want to get the conversation with Alexandre over with before I talk to Liam. Of course, I can’t say that out loud, so I give Liam a pleading look, hoping he’ll understand. Ineedhim to understand.

He pauses for a moment, but then he nods. “Alright, Ana,” Liam says softly. “Whatever you need.” He strides towards the bathroom door and then pauses, his hand on the knob. “I won’t listen in,” he assures me. “But if you need me, Ana, I’ll be just outside.”

Liam gives Alexandre one more piercing look, his mouth thinning as he does, and then he steps out, closing the bathroom door firmly behind him.

It’s only Alexandre and me, alone.

SIXTEEN

ANA

The moment Liam leaves, Alexandre starts to walk toward me, hands outstretched. “Petit,” he murmurs, his voice low and sweet once again. “This is wonderful news. I—”

“Stop.” I hold up a hand, shaking my head. “This isn’t some kind of celebration, Alexandre. This—” I swallow hard, sinking down to sit on the edge of the jacuzzi tub as I look at the pile of pregnancy tests on the sink. “This is insane.”

“It is wonderful,petit,” he insists. “We’ve made a baby together. You must see that you have to come back to Paris with me, now, so that we can experience the pregnancy together, so that we can raise our child together—”

“You don’t know that it’s yours. Not for sure.” I drop my head into my hands, rubbing them across my face as I try to fight back frustrated, frightened tears.

“Petit, please—” he takes another step towards me, reaching out as if to touch my shoulder, but I pull away.

“Stop, Alexandre. I don’t want to be touched. Not right now. Just—we need to talk this out. We don’t know if it’s your baby. But if it was—” I take a deep breath, unable to look directly at him. I can’t stand the happiness on his face, how enthused and joyful he looks at the possibility of us having a child together.

“I know you say you don’t want to discuss the odds,petit, but you must understand, you and I—”

“What sort of life, exactly, do you think the two of us would have with a child?” The words burst out of me, and I finally look up at him, glaring with frustration. “How could a baby possibly fit into your life, into howourlife was back in Paris? We didn’t have a normal relationship, Alexandre! What, are you going todateme now? Make me your girlfriend or your wife? You can’t have a baby with yourlittle doll,yourbroken toy.You can’t keep me as a pet and have me give you a child! You can’t make me eat off of the floor and dress and bathe me, control my every waking moment when I have a baby to care for!” Tears are brimming in my eyes, and I wipe them away angrily. “Our relationship wasn’t that kind of relationship, Alexandre. It was all about ownership, trauma, pleasure and pain, and humiliation and yes, a twisted fucked up kind of love, but not the kind of love that makes a healthy childhood!”

I shake my head, sucking in a breath as I try to calm myself down before I start to spiral out of control again. “We’re both fucked up, Alexandre. We’ve both been through so much, been so traumatized by others. I don’t even know if Icanbe a mother or if I’ll just ruin this child’s life the way mine’s been ruined. But I do know that if I choose to bring this baby into the world,twobroken people can’t be good parents to another person.Wecan’t do this, Alexandre, you and I. We just can’t.”

“Is Liam not broken?” Alexandre’s voice is sarcastic, almost vicious. “Your Irishman is whole, then? Not hurt by anyone? Clean and pure of all damage?”

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