‘How are you?’ he asked.
Elspeth shrugged. ‘Tired, hungry. Everything that you’d expect, really. I’m only about eight weeks along. It’s still early days, but I called in a favour and got a scan. Everything looks good so far. We’ve no reason to think that anything will go wrong.’
‘That’s good,’ Fraser said.
His lips involuntarily turned up into a smile. He wasn’t even sure why. He couldn’t even think about what he was meant to be feeling at this news.
‘So, what do we do now?’
* * *
What did they do now?
How on earth was she meant to know? She’d only been able to see as far as this. As far as telling the father of her child that the child existed. From here on in it was up to both of them to figure it out.
It would help if she had a clue where to start.
She didn’t even know the basics about Fraser. Where he lived. Where he was from. His surname…
They’d come back to this very hotel the night of the wedding, so she didn’t have many clues there, apart from the fact that it was one of the most discreetly expensive hotels in the city. She’d gone along with it, surprised, when he’d suggested meeting here.
If she was honest with herself, she was more surprised that he’d agreed to meet her at all. He had money, she gathered, wondering what he would make of her usual coffee shop and feeling suddenly uncomfortable.
‘I guess we try and figure out the practicalities,’ she said. ‘If you want to be involved.’
She’d decided that this was the best tactic. She didn’t want to force him to be in their lives if he didn’t want to be. This child had every right to know its father, but it also deserved a father who wanted to be there. Not someone who was only doing it because they thought that they should.
A harsh look crossed Fraser’s face, and Elspeth realised that somehow she’d touched a nerve.
‘Of course I want to be involved. What kind of person do you think I am?’
She raised her palms. ‘I don’t know what kind of person you are, Fraser. All I know so far is that you get bored at weddings and what you like to do in bed. How am I meant to know what you think about kids? So far, this conversation isn’t filling me with confidence.’
‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s a shock.’
‘I know that.’ She replaced her cup rather too emphatically on the table and reached for a napkin as the liquid sloshed over the side. ‘It wasn’t exactly easy for me to find this out either. I had plans, you know. I have plans. I have responsibilities that don’t exactly fit well with an unplanned pregnancy.’
‘Of course—your permanent role at work. Have you had any news? I guess a baby’s going to throw all your plans out of whack.’
She wasn’t sure whether to be impressed that he’d remembered or annoyed that he was making light of the massive upheaval her career was going to have to go through. She decided quickly on the latter. ‘Don’t you dare be flippant. I need this job, and my career plans are important. I have responsibilities. Responsibilities and a career that are going to be hard enough to make work without you cracking jokes about it.’
Saying the words out loud was making the reality sink in. How on earth was she going to cope? She’d spent the last God knew how many years asking herself that same question. How was she going to care for her sister when her mum was gone? Or when her mum was older and needed a lot of care too? And now a baby in the mix? It was just too much.
She took a long drink of her tea, letting it wash away the lump that was threatening to form in her throat.
‘So—what? You want me to take the baby?’ Fraser asked.
‘What? No. Are you deliberately making this harder?’
How could he jump to that conclusion? It made her realise that he really didn’t know the first thing about her. Any of her friends, her colleagues, anyone who had met her for more than a random night at a wedding would know that she would never let someone else raise her child. And here she was, planning on co-parenting with a man who didn’t even understand the basics about her.
‘What I want, Fraser,’ she said, slowly and deliberately, knowing that her temper wasn’t going to help this situation, ‘is some sort of plan for co-parenting this child that doesn’t completely derail everything I need to happen in my life.’
‘Well, it might be a bit late for that. Babies have a habit of derailing things.’
It was Fraser’s turn to shrug, and she narrowly avoided the temptation of throwing her tea at him. How could he be so damn casual about it? Simply brush away her concerns?
‘Well, in this case it can’t.’ She ground out the monosyllables, her temper still on the up.
At some point she was going to have to tell him about her life. Her responsibilities. The reason she had called off her engagement. And what would she see in his eyes? Pity? Fear? Horror at what he had got himself involved in?
‘Okay, are you going to tell me what this is about or do I have to read between the lines and guess? Are you going to throw me a clue?’
Well, it looked as if she was about to find out.
‘It’s not a secret,’ she said. ‘I already have caring responsibilities. I have a sister with a disability and a mother who’s getting older, whose arthritis is getting worse by the day. I need to get ahead with my career now, because the time will come pretty soon when I’ll need the money I’ve banked, and I’ll need to have reached a point in my career when I can work flexibly.’
‘You were engaged before?’ Fraser said thoughtfully.
Elspeth bristled. ‘I’m not sure what that has to do with anything. I’m talking about the baby, here. I’m not proposing.’
‘I’m just saying you must have thought at one time that you could have both. I don’t want to marry you, Elspeth. I just want to understand you.’
She tried to throw off the feeling that he was criticising her and answered as calmly as she could. ‘You’re right. At one time I thought that things could be different, and then I proved myself wrong. When my family and my relationship were both suffering because I was being pulled in opposite directions I had to choose, and I chose my family.’
Fraser’s face creased, and Elspeth had a moment to see pain in his eyes before he wiped his expression clear.
‘What?’ she asked, when Fraser’s silence stretched.
‘Nothing,’ he replied.
But she could tell that something she’d said had touched him. Had resonated with him. She knew he was keeping things from her. But why shouldn’t he? He barely knew her. Other than the cells dividing and multiplying inside her, they shared nothing in their lives. They might as well be strangers.
Not quite strangers.
Not when she knew the curve of his buttocks and the scratch of his stubble. The deep, bass notes of his groans and the gentle huff of his breath while he slept.
But not familiar either. Unfamiliar enough for her skin to tingle when it sensed him close. New enough for her heart to pick up its pace a little every time her eyes flickered to his face. Enough of