He hadn’t meant to tell Kit about Chad. He didn’t talk about Chad. To anyone.
His gut clenched. He strode down to the back fence to wrap his fingers around the hard bark of the banksia tree until they started to burn and ache. He hadn’t realized how much Kit’s inability to fathom his previous treatment of her had plagued her, tormented her, had her questioning her own judgement and doubting herself. His mouth filled with acid. This was why he should have been more careful in the first place—resisted the temptation she’d presented, the lure of a life that he knew could never be his. But her sunshine had touched his soul, and for a short time he had been lost.
And she’d paid the price.
He’d wanted—needed—to reassure her that none of this was her fault. The only way to do that was to tell her about Chad. To tell her why he couldn’t go through all that again.
Her unborn child—it was a source of joy for her.
For him … For him it was a constant source of torment, reminding him of everything he’d had and then lost, reminding him of the gaping hole at the centre of himself that nothing could fill. In losing Chad he’d lost the best part of himself.
If there’d ever been a best part of himself.
He didn’t want another child.
He didn’t want to love another child.
He’d given Chad everything—his time, his care, all the love in his heart. But it hadn’t been enough. Jacqui had still left. He’d still lost the child he loved.
He wasn’t going through that a second time.
Losing Chad had proved something that deep down he’d always known but had never wanted to believe—he didn’t have what it took to be a family man. He refused to hide from the hard facts now. He could not give Kit what she so badly wanted—a stable and loving family unit.
What was the point in trying when he’d only lose it all again anyway?
Not hiding from the hard facts again? He gave a mirthless laugh. His demand for a paternity test was a lie, a blind, an excuse to hide behind. Kit wasn’t lying. Her baby was his. He just didn’t want to believe it, that was all. Kit didn’t care about his money and she sure as hell didn’t see him as a great catch. She’d prefer it if he wasn’t her baby’s father.
He rested his head against the trunk of the tree. Jacqui had taken Chad away from him without a backward glance. There were no guarantees that Kit wouldn’t do the same. Eventually.
He would not relive that nightmare. Not for Kit. Not for anyone. If that made him a monster in her eyes, then so be it.
He loosened his grip on the tree to glance around the garden, which was partially illuminated by the light from the kitchen window. His gaze fell on the Cape Cod chair that Kit had been sanding the other day.
Do something useful.
He strode towards it. His mind worked best when his fingers were busy, and tonight he needed his mind to be at its peak.
Because, no matter what he told himself, he couldn’t just up and leave when the weekend rolled around. He might not be able to offer Kit emotional support, but he couldn’t abandon her with a house threatening to fall down around her ears either. Not when she was expecting a baby. He had to come up with a plan she’d go for and fast.
Because if he didn’t, once she received the all clear from her doctor tomorrow he may well find himself very politely thanked and very firmly asked to leave. And who’d make sure she had everything she needed then?
Kit woke early on Thursday morning. She tried to go back to sleep but the nerves leaping and jumping in her stomach wouldn’t let her.
Today she’d have her scan. Today she’d find out if her baby was okay.
A tap sounded on her bedroom door and Alex’s head poked around its corner. How did he always know when she was awake?
‘Good morning.’
She swallowed. He looked fresh and alert and good enough to eat. She pushed up against the pillows, dragged her hands back over her hair, tried to smooth it. ‘Morning.’
‘How are you feeling?’
‘Fine.’ Physically in herself, she was. She felt as if she’d never been sick in the first place.
But what if her high temperature had harmed her baby? What then? She knew worrying about that would do her no good, but not worrying was impossible.
Alex’s eyes narrowed. ‘Breakfast?’
She shook her head. She doubted she’d be able to keep anything down. ‘A cup of something hot and herbal would be great, though.’ Despite what the doctor had said, she’d given up caffeine the day she’d found out she was pregnant. She’d wanted to give her baby every chance.
Alex appeared with two mugs of … lemongrass tea. The fragrance made her stomach loosen a fraction. She accepted her mug with a lift of the lips that she hoped would pass for a smile. ‘You do know that I don’t mind if you drink coffee, don’t you? You don’t need to abstain just because I am.’
‘It doesn’t seem fair to drink it when you can’t. Besides, this lemon stuff is halfway decent.’ His nose wrinkled. ‘But you can keep that chamomile nonsense to yourself.’
She found herself chuckling, even amidst all the anxiety swirling through her.
‘Nervous, huh?’
She didn’t know how he’d sensed it. She’d thought she’d done a good job at covering it up. It seemed pointless trying to deny it, though. ‘A little.’
He surveyed her for a moment, set his mug on the floor and then leaned towards her. ‘Your temperature came down very quickly, Kit. You’ve had lots of rest, good food and medicine. You’re young, strong and the picture of health again. There’s no reason to believe that your baby isn’t strong and healthy too.’
She nodded. She knew he was right.
‘But?’ he said softly.
She set her mug on the bedside table as her stomach clenched up again. ‘Do you believe in fate, Alex?’
‘Not really.’
He didn’t pick his mug up again. He remained with elbows on knees, his full attention focused on her. For a moment it made her feel spotlighted—at the centre of his world. She shook herself.
‘Why?’ he asked.
She swallowed again, found her fingers had started pleating and unpleating the quilt. She gripped them together to still them. ‘Maybe I’m not fated to be a mother. I didn’t realize I was pregnant for three whole months. I drank caffeine and the occasional glass of wine, and … and I didn’t do stuff that I would’ve done had I known.’
He frowned. ‘Kit, you’re going to be just fine.’
‘Fine?’ Her voice rose. ‘How on earth can you say that? On Monday I didn’t even realize I was sick! Honestly, Alex, what does that say about me and the kind of mother I’m going to make?’ Her heart ached. She pressed her palms to her eyes for a moment before dragging them back into her lap. ‘It doesn’t reflect very well on me, does it? For heaven’s sake, I don’t even know how to change a nappy! Maybe …’ She gulped. ‘Maybe I’m not meant to be a mother.’
‘What the hell … ? No!’
Alex jumped up, knocking over his mug in the process. With a swift curse he tore off his T-shirt and used it to mop up the spill.
As a broad expanse of naked flesh met her gaze, Kit’s eyes went wide. She could feel them getting bigger and bigger as the space in her lungs for air became progressively smaller and smaller. Her thought processes slammed to a halt. Alex’s shoulders and chest and