Page 42 of An Heir For Her Enemy

“Not at the moment, sorry.” Delaney took another breath. “Sorry, I have to go.”

She hurried across the room, into the hallway, and into the bathroom. There, she locked herself in a stall and slumped against the wall. Her heart was still beating too fast. When she’d thought that the man was Logan, she’d been so panicked, yet so… hopeful. She’d hoped that Logan had changed his mind and had come to beg for her forgiveness — and a place in her life.

That was obviously never going to happen.

In an instant, Delaney’s future spooled out before her. Even if she could somehow open a gallery while raising an infant on her own, she’d still be here, in New York City. Where Logan lived. Logan could easily show up to an event, or to her gallery, anytime he wanted. Every time she saw him, or thought she did, she would be upset and full of hope all over again. Every time, she’d feel the sting of rejection all over again.

Worse, what would happen when Delaney’s son (she was sure her child would be a boy) got older? Eventually, he’d begin to askabout his father. He’d want to know why he didn’t have a dad, like all the other kids. What if Logan ran into them then? What if he had a new woman with him? Delaney’s heart began to ache. It was confusing enough for her to even think of running into Logan. It would be much worse for an innocent child.

Delaney felt tears well in her eyes and spill down her cheeks. She raised a hand to wipe them away, but more tears came. This all felt so hopeless.

Over the past weeks since returning from Rome, Delaney had thrown herself into work and preparing for motherhood. She’d spent every free moment either planning for her gallery, reading parenting books, or meeting clients like Carmen to earn a little extra money. All the busyness had helped her forget about Logan and about the way he’d left things. Yet now, alone in the bathroom at yet another glitzy art event, the reality of the situation threatened to overwhelm her.

She could be a single mother, she knew it. She was ready to make any sacrifice she needed to. And, as unlikely as it seemed, maybe she could open her gallery — at least someday. She just wasn’t sure she could do either of those things with the specter of Logan hanging over her head. He could show up anytime. But he wouldn’t. That made things so much worse.

Delaney took a deep breath, splashed water on her face, and exited the bathroom. She smiled politely at the line that had begun to form while she was inside, though she was secretly embarrassed by their judgmental stares, and found Carmen in the midst of the crowd.

“Delaney, just the woman I wanted to see.” Carmen beckoned her over. “Could you?—"

“I’m really sorry.” Delaney smiled apologetically, her hands bunching in the fabric of her dress. “I’m not feeling well. I need to go home.”

“Really? Now?” Carmen frowned. “We barely got here, and?—”

“I’m really sorry,” Delaney repeated. “But I do need to go. Actually, I’m pregnant, and the symptoms are catching up to me.”

“You’re… pregnant?” Carmen’s eyes widened. “Goodness, I didn’t even know you were dating anyone.”

“I’m not.” Delaney knew that Carmen would gossip about this, but she didn’t care. She’d start showing sooner or later. She might as well announce her pregnancy on her own terms. “If you see any art you can’t live without, text a picture of it to me and I’ll look into it tomorrow. Have a nice evening.”

Without waiting for Carmen to reply, Delaney swept out of the gallery. It was time for her to start taking control of her life. She might not be able to get Logan out of her head, but at least she could do this. For tonight, taking control of her life meant going home, putting on her pajamas, and relaxing in bed with a good book, far from the art scene and far from Logan.

So, that’s exactly what she did.

The next day, Delaney woke up feeling just as hopeless as she had the night before. She’d hoped that time to relax and a good night’s sleep would help her overcome her worries about living in the same city as Logan. After all, millions of people livedin New York, plus more tourists passing through every day. Realistically, she wouldn’t see Logan.

Yet she couldn’t get past her worries. She kept imagining running into him — or, worse,notrunning into him. What if she had their son with her? It all felt like too much. Worried and sad, Delaney reached for her phone and called Cora. Her best friend arrived within an hour, bearing a bag of fresh bagels and an herbal tea for Delaney.

“I paid seven dollars for this, you know,” she said as she set the tea on Delaney’s table. “Seven dollars! For water and a teabag! New York City prices are out of control.”

Then Cora caught sight of Delaney, who was sitting on the bed in her pajamas with her hair in a messy bun.

“Oh, honey.”

“Thanks for coming.” Delaney managed a smile.

“Of course. I’d come anytime.” Cora left the bagels beside the tea and came to sit on the bed with her friend. “What’s going on? Are you feeling worried about the pregnancy?”

“Honestly, despite the timing, that’s the one thing that feels like it’s going right.” Delaney sighed, one hand going absently to her stomach. “I love this child already, and I’ll do anything to be the best mother I can be.”

“I wouldn’t expect anything else from you.” Cora scooted closer. “So, what’s going on, then?”

Before Delaney could reply, her phone dinged with a new message. Delaney flipped it over, hope and nerves surging in her chest, but it was an email. Not an email from Logan. She deflated.

“This is what’s going on.” Delaney held up the phone. “I keep hoping, yet also worrying, that I’ll hear from Logan. Last night, I was an event with a client, and I heard a voice that I thought was his. I almost jumped out of my skin.”

“Are you scared of him?” Cora’s eyes widened. “Because I can beat him up.”

Delaney chuckled despite herself. Cora was tiny and not at all a fighter. “Thank you, but no. I’m not scared of him. As angry as I am, I even understand where he’s coming from. He never wanted to be a father, so he isn’t going to be one now. No, I just keep hoping that he’ll change his mind. And whenever I don’t hear from him, whenever he doesn’t change his mind, it hurts me all over again.”

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