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He looks a little sheepish. “Well, yeah, I mean I was pissed off. Wouldn’t you have been? And then I got a call from work about the latest colossal screw-up that required my immediate attention, and it wouldn’t wait. So I figured I would go, cool off a little, and that we could talk today. So when you didn’t show up . . . well, I came here to find you.”
“But I was calling you all night. Again and again and again. You never answered. I thought you never wanted to see me again.”
“It was just the work thing,” he says, looking a little frantic. “Once it was dealt with, I tried calling you—I have been all morning; check your phone. When you didn’t answer, I came right over here.”
I glance over my shoulder—my phone’s on the couch, near a wet spot where I obviously drooled in my sleep. I could go over there and check, but that can wait. Luke wouldn’t lie about something that obvious.
“I was up all night worrying,” I tell him. “I thought I’d lost you forever, that you’d fire me and never want to see me again. I must have passed out in the early hours, and was sleeping so deeply I just didn’t hear your calls.”
He laughs tiredly. “Well, look at the two of us, huh? Both as useless as each other. But . . . we do have a lot to talk about, Tessa. I need answers from you, a lot of answers. I need to know why you kept this a secret from me for so long, and I need a final answer about our marriage.”
It’s only then that I notice he’s clutching a crumpled stack of paper—the annulment documents from my lawyer. He follows my gaze.
“Yeah,” he says. “This turned up. I saw it when I got into the office last night.”
This is all so overwhelming, and I haven’t even had any coffee yet.
“So . . . I’m not fired?” I ask dumbly.
A weak smile curves Luke’s lips. “I can’t fire the mother of my child.”
I don’t even know what to say. I stand there silently, uselessly, gaping at him, my sleep-addled mind wondering if I’m dreaming.
“So are you going to invite me in?” Luke asks.
Luke
I follow Tessa into her apartment. She looks so upset, so disheveled and downtrodden, all I want to do is give her a big hug.
But I’m still raw with hurt myself and I can’t bring myself to.
I need to know why she kept the baby from me, why she did what she did. I also need her to know that she hurt me, and that it had made me wonder if she really cared about me at all.
I’m a little stunned that she would even think I’d fire her. No matter what happens, I’d never throw a pregnant woman out on the street—not one who’s good at her job, and especially not one who’s carrying my child.
Tessa’s apartment looks empty and lived in, all at once. Cardboard boxes remain unopened, and the crumpled knit blanket on the couch tells me she spent the night there. A bottle of wine sits on the coffee table, drained of its content—apparently, I’m not the only one who had a rough night.
Tessa pushes the blanket aside, making space for us to sit.
“Tessa,” I say, voice low and serious, “I need to know why you kept this from me.” Her eyes grow more alert, surprise flashing every now and then, as I explain how hurt I was by what she’d kept from me. “Honestly, I had to wonder what you actually thought about my character. I need to know if we can get through this, make things work.”
Tessa remains silent, but her lips quiver at my words. I lean forward and place my hand gently on top of hers, trying to soothe her.
“I still want to make this work, Tessa. Make us work,” I say. “I hadn’t planned to be a Dad, but I’m ready for a kid. And I want us to raise him—or her—together, as a family.”
She nods slightly, eyes watering as I speak, teeth stabbing her lower lip as she tries to stop the tears from falling.
Rubbing the back of her hand with my thumb, I continue, “But I need you to be honest with me from now on if this is going to work. We need to trust each other, to work together when things are good or bad. We can get through anything if we put our minds to it.”
Tessa has lost the war with her tears now; they’re running slowly down her pretty face, sparkling in the dim light reflected from a nearby lamp.
“I need you to tell me, to promise me that nothing like this is going to happen again. And I need you to tell me what you want, Tessa. Deep down, do you want to try and make this work? If your heart isn’t in it, then that’s okay, I’m prepared to accept that.”
