Page 59 of A Cozy Kind of Christmas
When the car pulled into the resort, Johanna couldn’t control the rapid beat of her heart or the rehearsed words in her head. She needed to confront Connor once and for all and send him back home immediately.
THIRTY-SEVEN
JILL
“Pregnant? You’re pregnant?” Owen’s face went ghostly white. He paced in front of the fireplace, throwing his hand to his chest and shaking his head. “Wait, pregnant?”
Jill nodded timidly. This was bad. He was upset. She shouldn’t be surprised, but a part of her had hoped, probably foolishly, that maybe, just maybe, he’d be happy about a baby and starting a family together.
“How?” he asked.
“Well, I think you knowhow. Do I need to spell it out for you?” She clutched a pillow, placing it protectively over her stomach and hugging it tight like it might be able to shield her from what was about to come.
He let out a single, stunned laugh. Then he shook his head again like he was confused about the mechanics of her pregnancy and still processing. “I mean, how long have you known? When? Why didn’t you tell me?”
“Only a week. I took a test shortly before we left, and I’ve been waiting for the right time to tell you, but then we were busy packing for the trip and seeing Meg and Matt, and I guess I just couldn’t find the moment.”
“A week?” The hurt in his voice made Jill wince. “This is why you want to move to San Francisco and give up van life?” Realization dawned on his face like a light switch being flipped on.
“Partially,” Jill admitted with a nod. “But I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. It’s not only because of the baby.”
“The baby.” The words fell out of Owen’s lips softly like he didn’t want to believe them or wouldn’t believe them. “The baby…”
Jill blinked back tears, watching a million emotions pass across Owen’s face like a moving movie screen.
“The baby,” he repeated softly. His voice was so low it was almost a whisper. “A baby.”
She nodded, squeezing the pillow tighter and wishing for any reaction different than this. She could have even handled it if he had gotten angry or upset—not that that was in his nature, but this, this was so muted, apathetic, like he didn’t even care.
She thought back to the night they’d conceived.
They’d gone out for a glass of Prosecco after Jill’s art show and ended up drinking an entire bottle, laughing and dancing on the rooftop of an Italian garden until two in the morning under a full moon.
When they’d stumbled back to the van, wrapped all over each other, Jill had felt deliciously happy. Owen sang her Irish love songs as they kissed under the moonlight. The kiss turned into something stronger, more powerful, pulling them together. It had been a beautiful night tangled together under the sheets and a sky full of stars.
“A baby. You’re having a baby,” Owen said again, like he was trying to come to terms with the idea.
“Technically,we’rehaving a baby,” Jill replied, staring at him for any sign of emotion. What was he thinking?
Why was he saying so little?
This reaction was distinctly not Owen. The man was never at a loss for words.
“Yes, we’re having a baby.” He shut his eyes and nodded.
“Are you okay? Do you want to talk about it?” Jill searched his face for any clues.
Was he furious?
Excited?
And then, before she could say another word, he glanced at her, then raced for the door and grabbed his coat. “I have to go.”
“What?”
He mumbled something under his breath that she couldn’t make out. Then, he paused, his hand on the knob, with his back to her. “I have to go. I need a minute.”
He might be back, but Jill could tell he was already gone for good.
