She’d had a baby—his baby—but didn’t want to blurt that out. Although why she should be concerned about his feelings when he’d decimated hers was a mystery. “I’m still the same.”
Studying her, he folded his arms over his chest, drawing her attention to the broad contour of muscle. It seemed like yesterday that she’d run her hands over the coarse dusting of hair that she remembered being darker than what grew on his head, more reddish brown. The memory made her heart kick up again like it had so many times before when they’d been together.
He moved around the table and stopped in front of her, close enough to feel the heat from his body. “You look great, Em. What’s your secret?”
“Oh, you know…” She shrugged.
“I never heard where you went when you left Mercy Medical Center.”
Did that mean he’d tried to find out? Just when she’d thought her heart was under control, it stuttered again, a completely involuntary reaction because there was no way she’d react like this to him of her own free will. She never wanted to hurt again the way he’d made her hurt.
“I went to Sunrise Medical Center.”
“Still a social worker?” he asked.
“Yes. And a few other things.”
He nodded. “Whatever you’re doing certainly agrees with you.”
Being a mom? It was something she’d wanted since her very first pregnancy, and having the baby she’d been too young to have. Giving that child to another mother to care for had left an empty place inside her that had been impossible to fill.
“How’ve you been, Cal?” she asked, still procrastinating.
“Great.”
Was there a little too much enthusiasm in his tone? Or was it wishful thinking that he was working at convincing her he’d been fine since they split?
“How’ve you been, Em?”
It was a segue, and she might as well go with it. She couldn’t put this off any longer. “Funny you should ask…”
“What?” he asked, frowning.
When he reached out and touched her, his big hand felt too good, too warm, too safe. Static filled her head as electricity arced through her body. She stepped back and blew out a long breath.
“I have a lump in my breast,” she said.
Concern turned to worry in his expression. All at once he wasn’t her ex, but a doctor. “There’s no reason to assume the worst. Have you seen someone?”
“I have an appointment, but—”
“Lindquist is a breast specialist. I know him pretty well. I’ll give him a call and get you in right away—”
“No.”
“Em, you can’t put it off.”
“You said there’s no reason to assume the worst.” Even though that’s exactly what she’d done and why she was here in the first place.
“And I stand by that. But why worry any longer than necessary?”
“I’m taking care of that. And it’s not really what I wanted to talk to you about.”
“There’s more?” Now he looked confused and concerned and she couldn’t blame him.
“Finding the lump made me think long and hard about my own mortality,” she said.
“You’re young. There’s no reason to borrow trouble.”
She didn’t have to borrow it. Trouble had a way of finding her. “I’m not concerned about myself.” She took a deep breath and forced herself not to look away. “It’s my baby.”
“Baby? I didn’t know—” He stopped as the dots started to connect.
“Our baby. She’s eleven months old.”
“She? A girl?”
Em nodded. “Her name is Ann Marie. Annie.”
“Ann is my mother’s middle name,” he said, as if he couldn’t think of anything else to say.
“Marie is my mother’s middle name. It seemed fair.” Even if it would never feel right after the choice her mother had forced on her.
He ran his fingers through his hair. “What the hell are you saying?”
The calm before the storm was over. “I’m telling you that you have a little girl.”
“If I believed you—”
“If?” Now it was her turn to be shocked. The thought that he would question the facts had never occurred to her. At least not consciously. But somewhere deep inside she’d probably suspected. Otherwise she’d have called him instead of meeting face-to-face so that he could see she was telling the truth. Annie’s future depended on it.
“Why should I believe you, Em? You were the one who walked away. And before you did, you never said a word about being pregnant.”
“You never gave me a chance.”
“It’s my fault?” He held up his fingers. “Two words. I’m pregnant. That’s all you had to say.”
“It wasn’t that easy.” Not after that horrible time when she was little more than a child herself.
“For the sake of argument, I have to ask—why are you telling me now?”
“Because of the lump,” she said, twisting her fingers together. “If something happened to me Annie would have no one. I couldn’t stand that.”
“So this is about you?”
“No, it’s about our daughter.”
His gaze narrowed as suspicion swirled in his eyes. “Why should I believe you after all this time? What are you after, Em? What do you want from me?”
Emily hadn’t believed it was possible to hurt more than she had the night she’d tried to tell Cal Westen about his baby, but she was wrong. His second rejection was twice as painful because of Annie. How could he reject that sweet baby girl? The innocent child who was depending on Em to take care of her. That’s all she was trying to do in spite of what Cal thought.
“I was wrong not to tell you right away,” she admitted.
“You think?” Sarcasm rippled between them.
“I’m hoping you won’t punish your daughter for my mistake.”
“There’s no reason I should believe she’s my daughter. I always used protection when we were together. It’s not something I take for granted.”
“Me, either,” she said. That long-ago mistake made her pretty cautious. “I don’t know what to tell you except I guess the condom broke.”
At that moment Rhonda Levin walked in. Emily had seen the E.R. nurse manager from time to time when she worked here at Mercy Medical. The plump, brown-eyed, bleached blonde looked at each of them, narrowed her eyes, then settled her gaze on Cal.
“You’re on, Doc. Paramedics are bringing in car accident victims. One of them is an eleven-month-old with head trauma. Whatever is going on here will have to wait. ETA, three minutes.” Rhonda gave them a pointed look before walking out.
The baby coming in couldn’t be in better hands, Emily thought. If it were her daughter there’s no one she’d trust more than Cal. But he was looking at her now as if he didn’t trust her as far as he could throw her.
“The condom broke? Come on, you can do better than that.” Apparently he planned to use his three minutes to grill her.