Page 52 of Heart of The Night

I exhaled heavily. He had touched on a stark truth; it was uncharacteristic of me to mirror his approach. A part of me yearned for the clean pain of confession, as I had always placed truthfulness on a pedestal, but fear of the consequences held me back. And in that reluctance, I recognised my hypocrisy. By withholding this truth from Cara, I was acting out of self–interest, denying her the opportunity to make informed decisions. It was an uncomfortable admission, a look at a side of myself I truly detested.

‘Look, Andy, I’m at my wit’s end,’ I said. ‘I can’t shake the fear that dropping this bombshell might blow everything up. Remember how hard I had to work just to get her to date me? This news is going to give her second thoughts, isn’t it?’ As I spoke, a shiver ran down my spine, not from the cold but the brutal reality of my plight.

My relationship with Cara, in its present form, was a fragile seedling, vulnerable to the slightest upset, and this news would come down on it like a storm, threatening to uproot it before it could truly take hold. The relentless rain pouring around us seemed almost symbolic.

Andy nodded, his face etched with solemn understanding. ‘And throwing the prospect of step-mum duties at her might just send her packing.’

‘Exactly. I’m not even sure Cara wants children, let alone another woman’s.’ I swallowed hard, my throat tightening as the magnitude of the situation began to press on me. ‘And if the child does prove to be mine, I’ll be lumbered with a responsibility that could stretch our relationship to its breaking point. The full-on job of looking after a newborn, the sleepless nights, the non-stop demand for attention – I can’t see how it wouldn’t affect us.’ I halted mid-stride, my hand subconsciously gesturing for emphasis. ‘I mean, this is hardly what she signed up for, is it?’

Andy rested a hand on my shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze. ‘Look, mate,’ he said, his voice showing a steadiness that I envied, ‘you’re dealing with some rough what-ifs here. Remember, nothing’s set in stone yet.’

With a shake of my head, I resumed walking, my shoes squelching on the rain-soaked pavement.

Telling Cara now, I feared, would be like throwing a spanner in the works. Our progress, already delicate, could be stunted, and for what? A possibility? It would only serve to incite panic. I didn’t want to expose her to that turmoil, not if it was avoidable, and certainly not if it turned out to be unnecessary – the whole predicament hinging on the looming question of paternity.

‘I’m going to hold off on telling her until I’m certain,’ I said as we arrived at the mouth of the Underground station. Beads of water dripped off my umbrella as I collapsed it, the steady drumming of the rain shifting to a dull echo in the tunnel ahead.

Andy nodded, his face grave as he scanned his card and passed through the ticket barriers. ‘Sounds like a plan, Will. Honestly.’

‘But there’s a snag,’ I said as we stepped onto the escalator. ‘She might not trust me again.’

‘You mean because you’re keeping her in the dark?’ he asked, raising an eyebrow as he leaned against the railing.

‘Yes,’ I said, the word tasting bitter in my mouth.

Andy looked thoughtful, his gaze trained on the steps below us. ‘From what I know of Cara, she’s got a knack for seeing things from others’ perspectives. It’s plausible she might understand your position and see this as a one-off, given the delicacy of the situation. It’s a sensitive issue, mate. I doubt she’d only consider her own feelings, ignoring the mental wringer you’re going through. Hell, if the shoe was on the other foot – say she finds out she’s pregnant, and it could either be yours or Aaron’s – I’d wager she wouldn’t tell either of you until she had concrete answers. Suppose, just like you, she can’t opt for an abortion – she has to carry the child to term. Would she break that news to you before knowing who the father is? I’m not convinced she would.’

As he flipped the script, my heart clenched as though gripped in a vice. The thought of Cara in my shoes, carrying a child that might belong to Aaron, sent a surge of nausea clawing up my throat. I tightened my grip on the escalator handrail, concentrating on each breath I took.

‘Shit. You all right, Will?’ Andy’s brow furrowed, his eyes running a worried assessment over my face.

‘Yeah,’ I grunted, managing a weak nod. Though unintended, his words flung open a door to that dreaded possibility: Cara leaving me in the fallout of this situation, eventually starting a family with another man. The mere hint of such a reality was gut-wrenching, too unbearable to even graze my thoughts. Her departure would shatter me, leaving nothing but devastation in its wake.

‘You’re not about to throw up again, are you?’ Andy asked, a wince creeping onto his face. ‘Please don’t.’

I shook my head, fixing my gaze on the monotonous churn of the escalator steps, trying to combat the swirling dizziness and encroaching nausea. ‘Just… don’t talk about Cara pregnant with another man’s kid, all right?’

Andy’s expression softened. ‘Struck a nerve, did I?’

‘Yeah.’

‘But you see my point, don’t you?’

‘More than I’d like,’ I muttered. ‘And it drives home the fact that I wouldn’t want to be caught in this web of uncertainty if I could avoid it. To agonise over whether the child was mine or Aaron’s for days, weeks, or even months – it would be unbearable, just as it is right now with regards to Francesca. It swallows every thought, leaving no space for anything else. If Cara could spare me from that torment, I’d want her to.’

‘Exactly. And I’m sure Cara would want the same, so you’re doing the right thing. I know I wouldn’t want to know, either.’

I nodded, though Andy’s hypothetical scenario did make me wonder: if the child had turned out to be Aaron’s, what then?

The question was as daunting as it was unwelcome. As I navigated the uncertain terrain of my future, I found it near impossible to envision a life void of Cara’s presence. So, if faced with such a trial – if Cara mothered a child that was indeed Aaron’s – would I endure?

The acceptance would not come without its struggles, surely. Yet, the more I mulled over it, the stronger grew my conviction that I would, at the very least, have committed myself to making an attempt. Only time would reveal the longevity of my resolve, but I was prepared to confront the challenges. After all, this innocent child would carry a part of Cara within it, and that alone merited my genuine affection.

A faint spark of hope ignited within me at the realisation that, yes, I would have embarked on this journey, so perhaps Cara would, too. The path would undoubtedly be strewn with hardships, but I was willing to shoulder them. The stark difference, however, lay in the certainty of my love for Cara; she owned my heart completely. I wasn’t so sure she felt the same way about me.

Nevertheless, Andy’s argument reinforced my belief; breaking the news to Cara before I was certain would be a massive misstep – it could even be seen as inconsiderate. As I saw it, the only benefit of confessing would be the alleviation of my conscience, which would, in the end, make it a selfish act.

‘On a brighter note,’ Andy said as we reached the base of the escalator, ‘if you do end up being the father, we might be nappies-deep at the same time.’

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