Page 61 of Bound by Their Christmas Baby

It didn’t budge more than an inch.

She let out a roar, hoping that would help. It didn’t.

But when she straightened, dragging a hand over her brow, she heard a noise behind her. The door slamming shut.

‘What the hell are you doing?’

She whipped around, her eyes flashing to Gabe’s with all the hurt and pain and accusation she felt before she sobered and tried to look cool. Hard to do while sweating and pink-faced from wrestling with an overgrown Christmas relic.

‘What does it look like?’ she snapped, refusing to let herself feel anything for the man, no matter how much she’d missed him, no matter how arrogantly handsome he looked.

‘Abby…’ He moved towards her and she flinched without realising it, backing away, closer to the tree. His eyes roamed her face and something passed between them, something that made her heart hurt and her chest thick with sobs she refused to give in to. Then he was Gabe Arantini, successful tycoon, tech billionaire. He stared at her for two more seconds before looking away, his eyes settling on a point past her shoulder. ‘My plane is on the runway, refuelling now. When you’re ready, I’ll drive you to the airport.’

Abby froze, her chest cleaving, and fear had her launching at Gabe. ‘Don’t you dare! Don’t you dare send me away!’

‘What are you saying?’ he asked, having to raise his voice to be heard above her.

‘You don’t want me, I get it. I don’t care. I can’t leave my son. I won’t lose him. Don’t you dare send me away from him! I’ll marry you, I’ll marry you. Just please let me stay with him.’

Gabe looked as though she’d stabbed him. He reached for her wrists and contained them with ease, his strong fingers wrapping around her, holding her tight. He spoke with urgency, his voice hoarse. ‘I’m not sending you away from Raf.’ His eyes were suspiciously moist, his voice gravelly. ‘He’ll go with you. You were right. This whole scheme was madness. We’ll find another way to do this.’

Now Abby did sob because even though she’d told him she needed to be free of this whole marriage scenario, the reality was ripping her apart. Life without Gabe flashed before her, a barren, empty, hollow reality she didn’t want to contemplate.

‘I have an apartment in New York. You can have it. I’ll buy somewhere else for myself. Do you have a lawyer?’

His fingers, curled around her wrists, were making her flesh warm yet her blood was ice-cold. ‘No,’ she whispered.

‘Fine. You can use my lawyer too. I’ll engage someone else.’

‘Why do we need a lawyer? I have nothing to give you, and you’ve just said you’ll let me be with Raf.’

His face tightened. ‘I presume you won’t want to deal directly with me,’ he said matter-of-factly. ‘We can arrange visitation rights through our lawyers. You keep the nannies and when I have Raf they’ll come too, so at least there’ll always be some kind of continuity for him.’ He cleared his throat.

‘Continuity,’ she repeated, for no reason except that she couldn’t understand what was happening and she had no idea how to make sense of it.

Gabe, as if just realising he was holding her, stepped backwards, dropping her arms swiftly and rubbing his palms on his jeans. ‘Go and pack, Abigail. You’ve got your wish. You’re going home.’

Her wish? Her wish was for Gabe to love her, for them to be a real family. He was showing her what he wanted—and it wasn’t a life with her.

‘Is this really what you want?’ she whispered.

He stared at her, a strange mix of fear and determination in his eyes. ‘I don’t want to hurt you more than I have,’ he muttered. ‘You have to leave here. Go home.’

Tears welled in her eyes but she nodded. He was right. He’d never promised her anything like love. Her grief was all her own fault. She was the one who’d forgotten the parameters of their relationship. She was the one who’d fallen in love.

Without another word, she left the room. She moved through the house quickly, fighting an instinct, the whole time, to return to him. To beg him to reconsider. But that was a foolish impulse, one born of hope rather than reality. And so she forced herself to ignore it.

It didn’t take Abby long to return their things to her suitcase. She’d brought only what she absolutely needed. There were clothes in New York

. She would have a fresh start.

She lifted Raf out of the cot, her eyes brimming with tears as she carried him down the sweeping stairs. Gabe had removed the Christmas tree and the foyer was now empty, barren, like her heart and the marriage they might have had.

This was the right decision. She was numb, yet it was right.

But when Gabe approached her and his eyes dropped to the baby in her arms, she felt as if the earth was tipping on its axis. He stared at Raf and she saw his heartbreak, saw the cruelty of what she was doing, and grief throbbed hard in her veins.

‘I can’t take him away from you,’ she said desperately. ‘That’s not right either.’

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