Page 89 of Say My Name

He crosses the office, his footsteps a deliberate, unhurried rhythm on the floor. He stops on the other side of my desk, close enough that I can feel the heat radiating from him. “What did the test show, Elena?”

I look at the email minimized at the bottom of my screen. One click would bring back the appointment details and every instruction I ignored when I called him.

My voice is too quiet. “It was too early.”

“That still isn’t an answer.”

“I know.”

Dominic waits. He doesn’t fill the silence or rescue me from it. The disappointment in his message this morning was easier to face when I could pretend this conversation might never happen.

The pen slips from my fingers, clattering against the desk. The sound is sharp in the silence. “There was no positive test.”

For several seconds, he doesn’t move.

“You didn’t take one?”

“I took one that morning. It was negative, which was what the calendar predicted.”

“And the test you said you took after work?”

“I didn’t take another one.”

He looks down at my desk and drags one hand over his mouth. When he looks back at me, his voice is controlled.

“You lied to me.” The words aren’t an accusation; they’re a flat statement of fact, which is somehow worse. The air leaves my lungs in a rush.

“Yes.”

The answer is too quiet, and I have to force the next words out. “I’m sorry.”

“I asked if you were certain.”

“I remember.”

“I asked again after I got here.”

“I remember that too.”

He puts both hands on the back of the chair across from my desk, his knuckles white against the leather. “I believed you because I had no reason to think you would lie about this.”

Shame burns through me. “I know.”

“Did you think I would say no if you told me the truth?”

“No.”

His brows draw together. “Then why did you tell me you were ovulating?”

I stand because sitting behind my desk feels like hiding—though I could use the distance between us right now. “You asked what changed. Nothing had—except that I wanted you there. I didn’t know how to say that.”

“You told me you wanted me there. Then I asked what changed, and you gave me a positive test that didn’t exist.”

“I know what I said.”

“Do you?” He releases the chair and walks around it. “Because I came to your condo believing we were trying to conceive. I was explicit. I asked if you wanted unprotected sex—if you wanted me to come inside you—with the possibility of pregnancy understood between us.”

“I wanted all of that.”