I got home and I sat at the table with the package in front of me, and I stared at it for a really long time. Because the possibility of an unplanned pregnancy completely freaked me out, but the possibility of a baby...somehow the possibility of a baby didn’t freak me out at all.”
She looked at him, silently begging for his forgiveness—or at least acceptance. “I mean, I’m not a teenager, and I do want to have a baby someday, so I decided that if I did get pregnant, having a baby might not be the worst thing that could happen to me at this point in my life.”
“Not the worst thing that could happen to you ,” he echoed, pinning her with his hard and unyielding gaze. “Did you give any consideration to what it might mean to me ? Did you think, for even one minute , about how a baby would affect my life?”
“No.” She whispered the admission, ashamed that it was true. She hadn’t thought about him at all. She hadn’t thought about anything but how the possibility—minuscule as it might be—of having a baby filled her heart and soul with joy. “All I could think about, all that mattered, was that I might finally have the baby I’ve always wanted.”
“You were trying to get pregnant?”
“No! I didn’t plan any of what happened between us that night,” she promised him. “But when I realized it was possible that we might have conceived a child, I just didn’t do anything to stop it.”
“A decision I’m still struggling to understand,” he told her.
She nodded, acknowledging that she owed him a more thorough explanation of her actions. “When I graduated from medical school, I had a fiancé and a five-year plan.”
His brows lifted at that, but he remained silent, allowing her to continue.
“The plan included a wedding and, a few years after that, a baby. Then my fiancé decided to go ahead with that plan with someone else, and I moved on with my life without him.”
“And moved to Charisma,” he guessed.
She nodded again. “I’ve helped a lot of women deliver a lot of babies, and I always believed that someday it would be my turn. But I’m thirty-two years old and maybe my biological clock isn’t actually ticking just yet, but that someday doesn’t seem to be getting any closer.”
“You still had no right to make a decision that could affect both of our futures without talking to me,” he told her.
“I know,” she admitted. “But I promise you, if it turns out that I am pregnant, I will take full and complete responsibility for the baby.”
“You don’t want anything from me?” he challenged. “Not child support? Not even my name on the birth certificate?”
She shook her head, eager to give him the reassurance he seemed to be seeking. “Nothing,” she confirmed. “No one will even need to know that you’re the baby’s father.”
“Which only proves you don’t know me nearly as well as you think you do.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that if all you wanted was a sperm donor, you should have gone to a clinic.”
“Hey, I didn’t plan for this, either,” she reminded him hotly. “I didn’t seduce you or sabotage birth control. We both acted impulsively and if it turns out that I am pregnant—and that’s still a pretty big if at this point—it will be the culmination of various factors that neither of us could have predicted.”
“When will you know?”
Her cheeks burned. Somehow, talking about her monthly cycle with him seemed even more intimate than what they’d done in the supply closet. “Sometime in the next seven to ten days.”
“Okay,” he said. “So between now and then, we’re going to spend as much time together as possible.”
She frowned. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“It’s absolutely necessary,” he told her. “Partly so that the people around us—friends, family, coworkers—start to see us as a couple. But mostly, and much more importantly, if you are pregnant, we need to know one another
She looked at him, silently begging for his forgiveness—or at least acceptance. “I mean, I’m not a teenager, and I do want to have a baby someday, so I decided that if I did get pregnant, having a baby might not be the worst thing that could happen to me at this point in my life.”
“Not the worst thing that could happen to you ,” he echoed, pinning her with his hard and unyielding gaze. “Did you give any consideration to what it might mean to me ? Did you think, for even one minute , about how a baby would affect my life?”
“No.” She whispered the admission, ashamed that it was true. She hadn’t thought about him at all. She hadn’t thought about anything but how the possibility—minuscule as it might be—of having a baby filled her heart and soul with joy. “All I could think about, all that mattered, was that I might finally have the baby I’ve always wanted.”
“You were trying to get pregnant?”
“No! I didn’t plan any of what happened between us that night,” she promised him. “But when I realized it was possible that we might have conceived a child, I just didn’t do anything to stop it.”
“A decision I’m still struggling to understand,” he told her.
She nodded, acknowledging that she owed him a more thorough explanation of her actions. “When I graduated from medical school, I had a fiancé and a five-year plan.”
His brows lifted at that, but he remained silent, allowing her to continue.
“The plan included a wedding and, a few years after that, a baby. Then my fiancé decided to go ahead with that plan with someone else, and I moved on with my life without him.”
“And moved to Charisma,” he guessed.
She nodded again. “I’ve helped a lot of women deliver a lot of babies, and I always believed that someday it would be my turn. But I’m thirty-two years old and maybe my biological clock isn’t actually ticking just yet, but that someday doesn’t seem to be getting any closer.”
“You still had no right to make a decision that could affect both of our futures without talking to me,” he told her.
“I know,” she admitted. “But I promise you, if it turns out that I am pregnant, I will take full and complete responsibility for the baby.”
“You don’t want anything from me?” he challenged. “Not child support? Not even my name on the birth certificate?”
She shook her head, eager to give him the reassurance he seemed to be seeking. “Nothing,” she confirmed. “No one will even need to know that you’re the baby’s father.”
“Which only proves you don’t know me nearly as well as you think you do.”
“What are you saying?”
“I’m saying that if all you wanted was a sperm donor, you should have gone to a clinic.”
“Hey, I didn’t plan for this, either,” she reminded him hotly. “I didn’t seduce you or sabotage birth control. We both acted impulsively and if it turns out that I am pregnant—and that’s still a pretty big if at this point—it will be the culmination of various factors that neither of us could have predicted.”
“When will you know?”
Her cheeks burned. Somehow, talking about her monthly cycle with him seemed even more intimate than what they’d done in the supply closet. “Sometime in the next seven to ten days.”
“Okay,” he said. “So between now and then, we’re going to spend as much time together as possible.”
She frowned. “I don’t think that’s necessary.”
“It’s absolutely necessary,” he told her. “Partly so that the people around us—friends, family, coworkers—start to see us as a couple. But mostly, and much more importantly, if you are pregnant, we need to know one another
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