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“Yes. But, like I said before, don’t you dare get mad at me.”
“Mad at you for what?”
“Not telling you.”
“I’m not mad at you. Although I’d like to know why you didn’t get in touch. I called you. I left a message.”
“I know. That was one of the reasons I didn’t tell you.”
His brow furrows. “Really?”
“Yes. I—I didn’t want you to feel obligated.”
“Obligated?”
“You know? Responsible… committed.”
“I know what it means, Ella.” He moves closer, lowering his head and his voice. “Did you listen to my message?”
“Yes.”
“Then I don’t understand. What did I say that made decide against telling me?”
“You reminded me it had been two weeks since Vermont, and you said you’d be there for me. It was about this, not about me,” I say, rubbing my hand over the bump.
He shakes his head. “No, Ella. It was entirely about you. I didn’t know if you were pregnant or not. All I knew was that the timing was probably right for you to find out. I thought, if you were, you’d tell me… and if you weren’t, you might need someone to talk you. You’d seemed to like the idea of not using a condom, even though we never really talked it through… and I guess I let myself believe you kinda liked the idea of having my baby. I thought you might be upset if you found out you weren’t, and I wanted to be there for you. For you, Ella. Pregnant or not. Just like I promised.”
Another tear drops onto my cheek. “Oh…” I can’t think what else to say. I misunderstood his message… spectacularly. Not that it really changes anything. He still didn’t trust me.
“I don’t deserve anything from you, after what I did, but…”
A group of people come through the door and a man barges into me from behind, pushing me into Mac’s arms. He holds me close, protecting me, but the moment they’ve gone, I pull away, stepping back.
“Please, Ella,” he says. “Hear me out.”
“I—I’m tired, Mac.” And I need to think. He wasn’t supposed to be here. I hadn’t expected any of this.
“Okay. I’m sorry. Can I come and see you… tomorrow, maybe? I’m due to fly back to London on Monday, but…”
My heart flounders, my stomach spinning, and I feel sick. All the time, I’ve imagined him in his lovely top-floor apartment, in that enormous living room, the windows overlooking the city… and he’s been in London, thousands of miles away, in a place I can’t even picture him. “Y—You went back to London? You don’t live here anymore?”
He shakes his head. “No. I flew back home two days after you left me.”
“Two days?”That soon?“Y—You didn’t want to stay?”
“What did I have to stay for? You’d walked out on me, my apartment had too many memories of you, my career was over. I didn’t think there was anything left for me here.”
“And you’re going back again? On Monday?”
He shakes his head. “Not anymore. That’s what I was about to say. I’m gonna cancel my flight.”
“Why? Like I said, there’s no obligation. I didn’t ask you…”
“You don’t need to ask. I’m staying.”
“If you think you need to stick around because of the baby, then think again. I can manage…”
“I’m sure you can. I don’t doubt your ability to do anything. Believe it or not, I never did. But I just told you, this is about you… pregnant or not. It’s about us. It has nothing to do with our son.” He reaches out, placing a hand on my bump, and I stare up at him.
