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Giselle lifts her right hand. “I promise.”
I nod. That’s good. For now, this will be our secret.
“So you aren’t going to tell Mr. Scotsfeld?” Giselle asks.
I don’t answer. I haven’t figured that out yet. Should I tell Gavin?
I consider my options. If I don’t tell him, nothing will change. I’ll keep being his prize. He’ll keep being my protector. When my baby is born in a few months, he or she will be taken away by Ambrosia and raised by someone else. I’ll continue working for Gavin. Eventually, I’ll leave with my three million dollars and start a new life.
Nothing will change.
On the other hand, if I tell Gavin, everything will change. He might not look at me the same way. He might even resent me, because if what Kate said is right, then I’m not supposed to be pregnant. What if he sends me away?
Or he might tell me to marry him.
The thought of marrying Gavin actually makes my heart skip. Yes, I know he isn’t perfect. He has flaws. He has wounds. But he’s a good man. He’s caring and he’s generous. He makes me feel things I’ve never felt before- important, special, excited, safe, alive. Happy, even.
I’d be happy to have a husband like him.
I smile as I let my imagination run away with me. A romantic wedding. A nice home. A loving family.
Love.
I frown. Ah, but Gavin doesn’t love me. He’d only marry me because he would feel obliged to. If that’s the case, then I’d be no different than Nadine. I’d be forcing him to keep me by his side. I’d be tying him down. I don’t want that. I said I wouldn’t be like that.
Besides, what would people say about Gavin? He got his first prize killed and then he married his second prize? His reputation would suffer and his enemies would seize the opportunity to ruin him. I don’t want to be the reason for his downfall.
No matter what, it seems that if I tell Gavin, things won’t end well. He’ll only be unhappy. He’ll resent me. And me? I’ll be wealthy but miserable for the rest of my life.
That is not what I signed up for.
“No,” I finally answer Giselle’s question. “I won’t tell him. He’s better off not knowing.”
Giselle frowns. “But it’s his child, too.”
“Not if he doesn’t know.” I hold her hand. “And he doesn’t have to know. He doesn’t have to be burdened with a child he didn’t ask for. None of us have to be.”
Giselle looks away. “What if he finds out?”
I cup her cheek. “He won’t, not unless you tell him. And you promised me you wouldn’t tell anyone.”
She looks into my eyes, her own brimming with uncertainty.
“Promise me again,” I tell her.
She doesn’t answer.
“Giselle.”
“I promise,” she repeats with a sigh.
I place my arms around her. “Thank you. I know I’m asking for too much, but trust me, this is for the best.”
For me and for Gavin.
I told him I won’t ask for something he can’t give, and I won’t. So I’m not going to tell him anything- not about the baby or how I feel for him.
He will never know.
Chapter Sixteen
Gavin
I know Leah is hiding something from me. I can tell she’s trying to hide it, too.
It was the excessive smiling that first gave it away. Each time she was around me, it felt as if she had a smile painted on her face. That and the excessive chatter. I know I said she spoke too much, but those times she really did, sometimes without making sense. And yet in the moments she wasn’t talking, I could see her mind wandering off. When she thought I wasn’t looking, I’d get a glimpse of a frown.
I asked her what was wrong. She only smiled harder and said nothing. I let it go.
Then came the lapses. She’d drop something. She’d spill something. She’d put sugar instead of salt or the other way around. Once, she even put her fork inside her mouth with nothing on it. She told me it was just baby brain, pregnancy brain or- what was that? Momnesia? At any rate, she said it was her hormones that was messing with her concentration and coordination and that it was normal. I let it go.
Now, she’s gone on to spending less time with me. She skips breakfast. She takes more naps. She goes to bed early. Yesterday evening, I came home early so I could eat dinner and watch TV with her, but she said she was too tired. This morning, I suggested that we go to the gym together so she could do her yoga and I could lift my weights- but she said she wasn’t in the mood. What the hell is going on with her?
“Boss?” Angelo calls my attention from across my desk.
I’d forgotten that he’s sitting right in front of me.
