Prologue
I wake up extremely nervous this morning. My stomach is full of knots. I’m going to throw up and it has nothing to do with my condition. I need to tell Nicholas what I found out yesterday and I’m scared. I know it will change things. He will surely freak out. I’m freaking out. I hope he won’t react badly. Generally news like this is happy for most couples.
We met eighteen months ago at a charity event where the agency I work for had bought a table. Nicholas was seated at the table in front of mine. He turned around and our eyes locked. Grey to caramel. He then somehow swapped seats with my colleague who was supposed to be seated beside me. We hit it off straight away. At the end of the evening he asked me for my number and I would have been an idiot to not give it to him. The man looks like a freaking Greek god, long face with a constant five o’clock shadow, full lower lip with a body to match and he made me laugh. He called the very next day. We had our first date the following Friday, a month later our fifth date ended up turning into a two day fuck-a-thon in this very bed which I happen to be alone in at the moment.
Pretty soon we were spending all of our free time together. A short six months later I moved in with him into his penthouse apartment that overlooks the city. My favourite thing about living here is the view with the iconic harbour bridge, boats in the bright blue water, then when the sun sets, the city below shines in an array of colours.
Then five months ago he proposed. He actually asked me to marry him. It was so unexpected and romantic. I couldn’t be happier. He made it so easy to fall in love with him, with his big infectious smile and generous heart. I can’t imagine not ever being with him.
Our wedding is seven weeks away. The plan after our honeymoon is for us to live in London for three months while he sets up the European office of the architecture design and building company he started five years ago with his friend Rick Morgan who he met in university.
This certainly puts a spanner in the works but it doesn’t have to. We can make it work.
Things are so good between us that I dread what this news will do. I don’t want to fight with him. We’ve never really spoken about children but I assume since we’re getting married that means having a family at some stage. Maybe I should have brought it up before now but everything has happened so fast between us and we’ve enjoyed spending this time being just the two of us, being in the moment.
We love each other. He tells me so every single day. I have to believe that everything will be fine. He has a tendency to overreact, that’s one of his faults. Perhaps today he’ll surprise me.
After a long shower and finally feeling brave enough to face him I walk out of our bedroom to see him standing in the kitchen wearing only his pyjama pants, his golden, muscular chest on display. His dark brown hair is its usual mess from sleep.
I make my way over and stand on the opposite side of the breakfast bar to him, placing my sweaty hands down on to the cool marble. Deep breathes, Alannah.
“Morning, baby. Would you like some coffee?”
“No thanks. I need to tell you something.”
“Okay.” He raises one brow in expectation as he scoops a spoon of sugar into his mug.
It’s now or never Alannah. Do it quickly, like ripping off a Band-Aid.
“I’m pregnant.” I tell him then wait, holding my breath.
He stops making his coffee. His entire body stills. He slowly raises his head and looks at me with cold eyes. His smile disappearing instantly.
“What did you just say?” He hisses.
“I’m pregnant,” I repeat, swallowing down the lump which has formed in my throat.
“You can’t be.” His eyes are wide as he looks at me in disbelief. He takes a step away from me.
“Well, I am. I know it’s not something we planned on happening just yet but we can do this. I’m scared too but everything will work out.”
He stomps around the breakfast bar to stand in front of me, pointing his finger in my face. His top lip curling into an angry sneer.
“You’re lying. There is no way you can be pregnant.”
“Why do you keep saying that? I saw my doctor yesterday and she confirmed I’m six weeks along.” I try to hand him the ultrasound photo that I had in my back pocket but he doesn’t take it, he just looks at it in disgust then knocks it out of my hand. I watch it flutter down onto the floor by my feet.
“Who else have you been fucking because that kid is not mine?” he growls. I have never seen him so angry before. His face has turned red.
My heart joins the photo on the ground at his reaction and accusation.
“How can you say that to me? You know there hasn’t been anyone else; it’s only ever been you. Nick please, you know I could never do that to you. I love you. How can you accuse me of such a horrible thing?”
Tears start to rapidly fall down my cheeks. I knew he would take the news badly but I never expected or imagined that he would outright deny it or accuse me of cheating on him.
“I know no such thing and now you come to me trying to pass some other bastard’s kid off as my own. You really thought this plan of yours would work and then you’d be set for life. Please stop with the crocodile tears, they’re pathetic.”
What the hell is he talking about? What plan? We’re supposed to be getting married soon. Has he lost his mind?
“Nicholas, I swear the baby is yours.” Why is he being so cruel? “Why are you saying these things?” I don’t understand what is happening.
“IT CAN’T BE.” He screams right in my face.
“WHY NOT?” I yell back, hurting. Why doesn’t he believe me?
“I had a vasectomy years ago so there is no way in hell that kid you’re carrying is mine. I never wanted children.”
I feel like I’ve been struck. I’m left speechless. Why did he never tell me this before? How could be keep this from me? This is one major detail that I had every right to know about. I sense my entire world collapsing around me. He’s never going to believe me.
In my heart I know I haven’t been unfaithful. I haven’t done anything wrong and this baby I’m carrying is a part of us both, and a miracle if what he is saying is true because somehow I did manage to fall pregnant. Yes, I’m on birth control, but everybody knows that it’s not a hundred percent effective, however I may as well not have been on it at all. He’s an asshole.
He takes my stunned silence as guilt and starts to walk away.
“This baby is yours. You can deny it, you can call me any name under the sun that you want and accuse me until you’re blue in the face but I know the truth, and I have not cheated on you. You should have told me about this, I’m your fiancée, I had every right to know, Nick because it doesn’t only concern you.” I yell at his retreating back.
Now I’m shaking from anger. How dare he walk away? Does he really think this conversation is over? He’s acting like a child.
He stops and turns around.
“Get out,” he whispers. He’s kicking me out?
“Nicholas, please, calm down and think logically about this. Sometimes these things still happen. Nothing is fool proof.”
He may have not wanted to be a father but it’s happened and we need to deal with it like adults.