Page 64 of 7+Us Makes Nine

Then, reality struck me like a knife to my gut.

I settled us back down onto the couch as Catherine straddled my lap. Her hands slid up my shoulders as her hands cupped my neck. I looked into her stunning eyes and saw relief trickle through them.

But I soon started feeling overwhelmed.

“Okay. We need to talk,” I said.

“You know, I’m usually scared of those words,” Catherine said with a grin.

“You know Anya’s been on a rampage,” I said.

“In the media, yes. I’ve been keeping up with it for the sake of the kids.”

“We have to keep this a secret.”

I watched her face drop and it broke my heart.

“Why?” she asked.

“Anya is blowing up the tabloids and it’s putting a lot of pressure on me. I keep talking with my lawyer, but there are rumors of her contesting the custody agreement anyway. And if, on some strange planet, Anya can make a solid case for the kids, I don’t want this new development hurting them in any way.”

“Hurting them?” she asked. “How in the world could this hurt them?”

“She could use the tabloids to twist this as a reckless mistake. She could use it to paint the fact that the home is unstable because I’m sleeping with my nanny with the kids under the same roof.”

“Everyone’s got a sex drive, Jace. And if my being the nanny is a big deal, then stop paying me. I’ve got more than enough money to get by for a very long time. We don’t have to hide this kid.”

“It’s not forever-”

“Do you even understand what you’re asking?”

I did. I knew exactly what I was asking. And I knew it was shitty of me. I knew it was a terrible thing to ask of her. It meant not telling her friends. Not telling her family. Not experiencing the public glee that comes with being pregnant. But my ex-wife was on a rampage and the media was following her heavily, and we had to tread lightly.

All of us did.

“I know you’re disappointed in my response,” I said.

“Disappointed doesn’t even begin to describe it,” she said as she slid off my lap. “My child isn’t shameful.”

“I’m not saying that.”

“My child isn’t a secret to be kept. All last weekend, I listened to my friends tell their beautiful stories about how they told the fathers of their children they were pregnant. How they rejoiced and how those men brought them comfort in a time when they were the most afraid. And I’m petrified, Jace. I’m scared when it comes to the idea of giving you a child, and you want me to hide away? That’s your response.”

“I have other kids I have to think about. Children that are already here and reaping the awful benefits of their circumstance.”

“And you think I don’t care about that?” she asked. “I’ve cared for them like they’re my own for the past three months. Taught them. Coached them. Fed them and cleaned up after them, like you asked me to do. Like you hired me to do. We aren’t this terrible thing to be hidden. You’ll never be able to convince me that my being pregnant could somehow jeopardize the custody of your other children.”

“I just want us to be safe, Catherine.”

“You said that custody agreement was ironclad. Your lawyer told you that. I was leaning against you when you had that phone conversation.”

“Catherine, please try to understand. This isn’t about keeping secrets or… or being ashamed. I’m so excited to be having a child with you. I’m so beyond elated that you’re pregnant. But Anya is out to destroy right now. She’s angry, and high, and hell-bent on taking this family down if she doesn’t get what she wants. And she’s using the media to manipulate that circus parade of hers.”

“Then put out statements, Jace! Fight her!”

“It’s not that simple. Not with someone who’s drug-addled. You of all people should know that,” I said.

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