Page 29 of Surprise Baby for Mr. Fischer
Anger sparked in her eyes. She spoke again in a flat, controlled tone. “Clearly, I want to keep the baby. I didn’t think it was right to keep this from you. Before, I didn’t know how to reach you, but with you here ... telling you seemed like the right thing to do. And you? What do you want to do?”
“I don’t know what I want.” Although, what I want didn’t completely matter because it wasn’t my life that had been derailed.
I had to help her and the child.Mychild. But what would be best for them? I couldn't even picture myself as a father without horrific memories threatening to overwhelm me. How could I actually be one?
“Then go on with your life just as it is,” she said, already dismissing me from her life.
I winced. “But what about you and the baby?”
“I don’t know.” Tears filled her eyes as her hands began to rub her arms like she was warding off a chill. “I’ll figure it out.”
I couldn’t leave her to do this by herself. And the thought of my child being out there somewhere, not even knowing who I was, gutted me.
But I was more afraid I’d screw him or her up worse if I was there.
With my job, I was on the road more than I was home. I could support them even without my career, but was I ready to give it up?
She stiffened her spine. “I’m going to go. I’ll get one of my sisters to replace me here, or we can give you the name of another company that can help you with all this.”
I didn’t respond. My throat had closed up, and my head was spinning.
She didn’t need me. Didn’t want me. Once again, I was being left behind and forgotten.
It wasn’t until I heard the front door open that her words registered. What was I doing? I couldn’t let her leave like this. I bolted from my spot on the couch and out the front door, not bothering to shut it behind me.
I caught up with her as I turned the corner of the house. She stood there with her back to me. One hand rested against the side of the house, and the other wiped away the tears flowing from her eyes as sobs shook her body.
It destroyed me to see her like this.
How could I have done this to her? My chest wrenched and twisted as I took in the sight before me. I wanted to fall to my knees and beg her forgiveness. “I’m sorry, Harper. Please don’t leave.”
Her back stiffened at my words, and she swiped away her remaining tears before turning to look at me. “There’s no reason to stay.”
I rubbed my chest as her words lodged in my heart like a dagger. “There is. The baby —ourbaby. Isn’t that reason enough to at least try to talk this through? Give me another chance. I know shock isn’t a good enough reason here, but I wasn’t expecting—I just needed time to process this. Please, come back inside. We should talk about this.”
Her shoulders slumped, her body drained of energy. “What’s there to talk about? You don’t want kids, and I’m going to have one.”
“I want to help you—and the baby. But if you knew more about me ... I’m not even sure you’d have come. You might think you’re both better off without me.” I know I certainly did.
For the first time ever, I wanted to voluntarily confide in someone about my childhood. She had a right to know why I chose not to have children.
Her gorgeous eyes, the color of Grecian seas, stared at me, searching my face.
She must have found what she was looking for. With a faint nod, she brushed past me and headed back inside. Fear gripped me. My childhood was a dark shadow, always threatening to pull me back into its embrace. What if she didn’t understand the power it held over me?
Once we were back in the parlor, she shifted to stand by the window and faced me. Her eyes, usually so expressive, were shuttered and drawn. “I’m here. Let’s talk.”
The wary look on her face hit me straight in the gut. How could I explain that my presence might be worse for them than me keeping my distance?
I sat on the couch and rested my elbows on my knees. I stared at the wall across the room, mentally tracing the ivy pattern of the old wallpaper.
In my periphery, I noticed her jaw tighten as she worried her hands. I had learned during our weekend that she did that when she struggled to make a decision. She took a step in my direction, then stopped. Right now, she wasn’t happy with me, but would she hate me when I explained why I was so afraid?
Her shoulders dropped and her mouth twisted thoughtfully. Harper’s gaze never left me as indecision warred on her face. With a sigh, she came closer and sat a foot from me on the couch. I was grateful she’d decided to listen and to give me a chance. After how I acted, I could understand if she’d chosen to walk away. The fact that she valued what we shared enough to try and give me another chance was humbling to say the least.
Where did I start? What was the actual beginning to it all? When I was forced to grow up after I found my parents dead, or when I was old enough to understand I was an inconvenience to them?
Surprising myself, I started somewhere in the middle. “When I was twelve, I told myself I’d never have kids.”
