Page 42 of Prognosis Christmas Baby

Didn’t every child deserve to have two parents?

Okay, he might only be away for a couple of years but did he want to miss out on such a vital, formative time in his child’s life? ‘I want to teach my kid how to kick a ball.’

Despite her resolve, Maggie was assailed with images of Nash standing behind a little blue-eyed blond demonstrating the perfect technique with a footy.

And I want you to love me. But Maggie’s heart knew there were just some things you couldn’t have. ‘Commute.’

Nash gave her an exasperated look. See his kid once every few months? No. ‘Fine...’ He rubbed his eyes as all his dreams, his promises, crumpled before him. ‘I’ll stay.’

Maggie shook her head vigorously. ‘No. Oh, no,’ she rejected vehemently. ‘I’m not having you blame me, or the baby, in years to come because you didn’t get your time at Great Ormond Street.’

Nash reached across the table and grasped her hands, brushing a thumb back and forth over the prominent veins in the back of her hand. ‘So come with me. Let’s see how things pan out.’

Maggie fought against the pull of him that she felt at a visceral level, in every pulse stroke, every cell. But where would she be if they didn’t pan out?

No.

Maturity had its advantages and she’d be a fool to ignore her fundamental needs. That was for the young.

She wasn’t prepared to go with him for anything less than love. The fact that he didn’t love her, that he would never love her, twisted like a knife and she pulled her hands from his. ‘No.’

Nash stared at her resolute gaze. ‘So what now?’

She pushed the box towards him with one finger, like it was full of red-back spiders. She didn’t want a duty ring from him. ‘You go home to bed and we talk another time.’

Nash nodded. He didn’t want to go home. He’d grown accustomed to sleeping with her and hated going back to his Maggie-less apartment.

He picked up the box, pocketed it and stood. ‘Okay. But this isn’t over, Maggie May.’

He moved towards her, crouching beside her chair and placed his hand over hers. Hands that seemed to almost permanently cradle her belly these days. He threaded his fingers through hers. ‘Not by a long shot.’

And then he stood again and turned away, once again leaving with things unresolved. But one thing he knew for sure — as messed up as it was, Maggie was carrying his baby and he would take care of his child.

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