Page 89 of Heart of The Night

I held his gaze, feeling a thousand things at once – anger, hurt, confusion – but mostly, a deep, aching sadness.

‘We need to talk,’ I said, my voice trembling with the effort to hold back tears. I put his phone back on his nightstand, his eyes following the movement with evident dread.

‘About what?’

‘Francesca called,’ I said, each word a struggle. ‘She said she’ll be back in a week… for the paternity test.’

The colour drained from his face. For a moment, we just stared at each other, the silence between us filled with the weight of everything unspoken.

‘I was going to tell you,’ he finally said, his voice unsteady. ‘I wanted to wait until I had the result.’

My mind reeled. ‘Does this mean you’ve been seeing her behind my back?’ The words tumbled out, raw and jagged.

‘No,’ he said vehemently, taking a step closer. ‘No, Cara, I swear.’ His voice cracked, his eyes growing shinier. ‘She’s about eleven weeks pregnant now.’

Eleven weeks. My thoughts churned as I did the maths. It must have happened sometime after I rejected his advances in May.

‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ My chest stung terribly, making it hard to draw breath. ‘Why keep this from me?’

‘I didn’t want you to worry,’ he said, his eyes beseeching, crinkling at the corners. ‘I didn’t want you to stress over something that might not even be true. If the child isn’t mine—’

‘Do you think it’s yours?’ I cut him off, desperately hoping he would say No.

He hesitated, the silence stretching unbearably. ‘It’s possible,’ he admitted quietly, observing my reaction.

Crushing despair swept over me. Was this really happening? Tears welled up in my eyes, my face contorting. The pain in my chest – it was excruciating. It felt like I was going to explode.

‘You should have told me.’

He shook faintly, the weight of the confession crumbling his composure. ‘I’m so sorry, Cara,’ he said, his voice quivering with regret. ‘I thought I was protecting you.’

‘But you didn’t,’ I whimpered, the tears spilling over. ‘You deceived me.’ He winced at the word, his shoulders tightening. ‘You let me believe everything was fine.’

Swallowing hard, he took a tentative step toward me, his eyes brimming with unshed tears. But I moved away on the mattress, putting more distance between us. His face twisted with hurt as he halted, recognising my silent demand for space. He stood frozen, torn between reaching for me and holding himself back, the war playing out in his gaze.

‘How long have you known?’

He looked down at the floor, his voice low as he said, ‘She told me when I returned her dress.’

‘What will you do if the child is yours?’ I could barely comprehend that we were having this conversation. It felt like some cruel, twisted nightmare, not the reality I was living. The man I loved, tangled up with another woman, possibly having a child with her. My heart ached, a sob threatening at the back of my throat. Did this mean I’d lose him forever?

I watched him, waiting for his answer, hoping for something – anything – that could make this less devastating.

He ran a hand through his hair, the gesture weary with the gravity of the situation. ‘I’ll be there for the kid,’ he said. ‘But I’m not coupling up with Francesca. I won’t abandon my responsibility, but I want to be with you.’

A glimmer of relief sparked within me. He wanted to be with me. Yet, as the words settled, I found myself questioning my own feelings. Could I truly be with him if he turned out to be the father? I knew I loved him, but doubt ate away at me. I wasn’t sure I wanted to have children, let alone another woman’s. The thought was as daunting as it was overwhelming, a heavy burden that threatened to crush all hope.

‘Cara, say something. Please.’ He took another step closer, but I shifted further away on the bed, my body tense. His proximity, the desperation in his eyes, it was too much to bear.

‘Cara, please,’ he begged, his voice choked with emotion. Tears slipped down his cheeks, his shoulders trembling as he stood there, lost and despairing.

I wiped my own tears, my vision blurring as more followed. ‘I need time. I need to think.’

He nodded faintly, his face streaked with helplessness and fear as I slid off the bed and walked toward the door to the living room. I had to go home, had to figure out what this meant for us.

‘Cara.’ His heartbreaking tone made me pause.

I turned, meeting his gaze. Agony spilled from his features, his chest shaking as he stifled sobs that threatened to break free. His eyes, usually so full of light, now looked like a stormy sea. I wanted to console him, to tell him everything would be all right, but uncertainty held me back. I couldn’t bring myself to speak the words I wasn’t sure I believed.

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