Page 87 of The Genius
With my late period ruining his dream, it was no wonder that Marco was serious when he arrived. The first thing he said when I met him outside my office building was, “From now on there can be no more lying, Shelly.”
I nodded and looked down as I followed him to his drone. For the first five minutes we didn’t talk and the atmosphere between us was loaded with all the things unsaid.
“I don’t normally lie, you know,” I whispered in a low voice. “In fact, people have often accused me of being too honest.”
Marco gave me a sideways glance but didn’t speak.
“I get that you’re disappointed with me.” I studied his profile when he looked ahead again. His beard was shorter than when I last saw him a week ago, and it made him look more like the Marco I’d fallen in love with all those years ago when I was just a teenage girl. Except back then he’d been smiling and cracking jokes.
“I should have been honest with you. I know that the timing of this is… umm… very unfortunate.”
“You think?”
“If I had been honest with you last Sunday, I could have done a test before the tournament and you’d know that I’m not pregnant.”
“Stop saying that.” It came through gritted teeth.
“Why? I thought we were both hoping that I’m not pregnant.”
Marco turned his head in a slow movement and gazed straight at me.
“What?” I asked with some confusion. “You’re hoping that I’m pregnant?”
“Unlike you, I always wanted children.”
“Yeah, but with someone like Louisa,” I burst out.
“You’ll marry me,” he said in a matter-of-fact way that left me cold.
Shaking my head, I gave him an answer in the same flat tone. “No, Marco. I won’t.”
He didn’t look surprised but said, “Then you’ll sign a contract.”
“What contract?”
“That I can see our child.”
“What are you talking about?”
“If you’re serious about living in the Motherlands I want a guarantee that I’ll be able to see our child and be a father to my kid.”
“This is silly. I’m telling you that I’m not pregnant.”
“We’ll know tomorrow morning. I found a doctor who can see you then. He’s a friend of a friend, and when we go there we’ll pretend to be married. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
“Good.” Marco still looked very serious. “We’re staying at my apartment tonight.”
“Why couldn’t you just pick me up tomorrow morning then?” I asked.
“Because I would worry all night that you’d be going to the Motherlands.”
“I see.”
We were quiet the rest of the way to Marco’s apartment and when we got there, he moved around his kitchen and living room, leaving me to wonder what he was thinking about.
“Do you hate me?” I asked when the pressure inside me became too much to bear.
