He stared at her in disbelief. ‘All I want to do is to protect you and the baby, and provide for you. How’s that being overbearing?’
Could he really not see it? Ella wondered. ‘It’s overbearing because you’re not discussing anything with me. You’ve made the decision already and you’re expecting me to just shut up and go along with it.’ She’d been there before: when everyone thought that little Ella wasn’t bright enough to train as a midwife. She hated the way Oliver seemed to be falling into those same attitudes and thinking he knew what was best for her. She’d had years of feeling undermined and useless, and she wasn’t going to let it happen again. ‘And if you dare say that’s just pregnancy hormones making me grumpy, I’ll...I’ll...’ She was too angry to think of what she’d do next. So much for thinking he wanted to cherish her. What an idiot she was, letting herself fall a little more in love with a control freak who wanted to boss her around.
‘Ella, this is—’
‘I need some space. Thank you for the flowers and breakfast, because that was very nice of you, but I’d really like you to leave now. Please.’
‘What about the washing up?’
‘I think I might just about be capable of sorting that out for myself.’ She stood up and gestured to the doorway. ‘Would you give me some space, please?’
Maybe making a tactical retreat would be the best thing to do right now, Oliver thought. ‘All right.’
He wasn’t sure whether her reaction had made him more hurt or angry. He’d tried to do the right thing, but Ella was being totally unreasonable. He’d never called her intelligence into question. Why on earth would she think he had?
Despite her protests, he was pretty sure that pregnancy hormones were affecting her mood.
He’d try to talk to her again later and hope that she’d be in a better frame of mind. More receptive.
Going to the gym and pounding the treadmill didn’t help. Neither did going to his office and spending a couple of hours catching up on paperwork.
Was he really being overbearing and making decisions without asking her? Oliver wondered.
A simple box of vitamins really shouldn’t cause this much trouble.
Justine had been more than happy for him to make a fuss of her and buy things for her while she was pregnant. Then again, she’d had her reasons. But Ella was seriously independent. Brave enough to travel to London at the age of eighteen to study midwifery, so far from her family home in Ireland that she wouldn’t be able to just pop home for the weekend like most of the other students could. And she’d be brave enough to bring up this baby on her own.
Except she didn’t have to.
He wanted to be there. For her and for the baby.
He didn’t want to tell her about Justine—not just yet—but he could try to build a bridge. Try to see things from Ella’s point of view.
It didn’t take him long to drive back to her flat.
This time, when she answered the doorbell, she didn’t smile.
‘Hear me out?’ he asked. ‘Please?’
She said nothing, but at least she didn’t slam the door in his face. ‘I was going to get you flowers as an apology, but I already bought you flowers this morning and I don’t want you to think I’m going over the top—especially as you already think I’m being overbearing. I had no idea what to get you. I don’t know what you like, so I just...’ Oliver hated feeling so clueless and awkward. Normally he was in charge and he knew everything would go smoothly. This was way out of his comfort zone.
‘It doesn’t matter. I don’t need you to buy me things.’
Another difference between Ella and the women he usually dated: they expected presents. Expensive presents.
‘The most important thing is that I’m sorry for being bossy. I don’t mean to be and I’ll try not to be. But,’ he said, ‘old habits die hard, and I can’t promise that I won’t mess up in the future.’
Her face softened, then, as if she understood the jumble of thoughts filling his head, and she stepped back from the doorway. ‘Come in and I’ll make some tea—and, for the record, I’m perfectly capable of filling a kettle with water and boiling it.’
‘I know,’ he said. He’d got the message that Ella liked her independence. ‘But is there anything I can do to help?’
‘Just sit down and let me do it myself.’
He waited on the sofa in the living room, feeling more and more antsy as the seconds passed.
Finally, she came in with two mugs of tea.
‘Thank you,’ he said, accepting one of the mugs.
She inclined her head in acknowledgement and sat down at her desk rather than next to him on the sofa. Making a point, he supposed.
‘It must be difficult for you, being in this situation,’ she said.
That was an understatement. She didn’t know anything about the memories it was bringing back, and right at the moment it wasn’t something he wanted to share. ‘It’s not exactly a picnic for you, either,’ he said, trying to see it from her point of view. ‘All I need to do is to get my head round this properly.’ All. He was struggling enough with that. ‘But it’s worse for you because you get all the morning sickness and what have you as well.’
‘Thanks for reminding me,’ she said dryly.
‘Ella, I want to be there for you and the baby.’
‘I understand that. But it doesn’t give you the right to push me around.’
He hadn’t been trying to push her around, but he didn’t want to argue. Now was probably not the right time to ask difficult questions about the contraception issue, either. He wanted to get their relationship on a less rocky footing, first. Instead, he asked carefully, ‘So have you thought about what kind of care you want, and whether you want to book in at Teddy’s or if you’d rather go somewhere else?’
‘I know all the staff at Teddy’s and I know I’ll get the best care there, so it makes sense to book in to our department,’ she said. ‘Though it does mean everyone’s going to know. And at a really early stage.’
‘Is that a problem?’
She looked thoughtful. ‘I guess not—I mean, everyone’s been great about Sienna. After the initial gossip, wondering who the baby’s father is.’
‘Would you prefer people not to know I’m the baby’s father?’
‘I don’t want people thinking I slept with you to get an advantage at work.’
He smiled. ‘Ella, nobody would ever think that of you. You work hard enough for two people as it is.’ He paused. ‘What about a scan?’
‘I already know I’m about seven weeks.’
‘Which is about the right time for a dating scan—not that I disbelieve you on the dates, just...’
She nodded. ‘Though it’ll mean people will know now, not later on.’
‘Yes, and they’ll cut you a bit of slack—this is the stage where you’re likely to feel really