The Billionaire's Bauble (18 page)

Sure enough, the results came back positive. David and she were going to be parents.

Half of her wanted to shout with happiness, and half of her wanted to cry in defeat. Things had been going perfectly since she had gotten on that plane for New York, and now, everything was in limbo. Sloane rubbed her eyes. She would not cry. She had to keep it together long enough to convince her family she had a sprained arm, nothing more.

After fitting her with a sling, the nurse made her sign some papers detailing instructions on how to treat her bruised arm once she left. Sloane crushed the instructions into a ball and put the paper in her pocket. The nurse insisted on wheeling Sloane out to meet her family, to meet David, and Sloane slumped into the wheel chair to be escorted out.

The nurse said, “He’s a nice young man. So handsome and attentive. You are a lucky woman,” and Sloane bit back her tears. “Thanks,” she mumbled and the nurse stopped rolling.

“Do you need to see a counselor? Is your pregnancy bad news?” the nurse asked.

“No,” Sloane quickly answered. She didn’t know which question she was answering. Her mind seemed unable to focus on anything. She held her tummy protectively. “I’ll be okay. I’m only surprised. Please don’t say anything,” she added, nodding to the assembly outside the emergency room doors.

The nurse smiled and said, “Honey, things always work out. You’ll see,” and she gave Sloane’s elbow a confident pat.

When Sloane exited the emergency room, a flurry of tender words greeted her ears. Rob, meekly apologetic, offered to take her home, but her parents wouldn’t hear of it. “You’re coming with us,” her mother said, and David smiled diffidently at Sloane.

David held Sloane close, gently rubbing her shoulders and kissing her ear in the back seat of her father’s sedan. She turned to David and threw her one good arm around his shoulders. She wanted to be in Alaska, in his home, in his bed, as his wife expecting their baby, more than she ever wanted anything in her life. But she couldn’t do it this way. No way could she coerce him to do “the right thing.” She loved him, she knew, but she had pride and big dreams. Now, they all seemed impossible to accomplish. Burying her head in David’s chest, Sloane wept bitterly. He soothed her as best he could.

“Oh sweetheart, does it hurt so much?” he worried.

“Yes,” she said, wishing she could tell him why.

“I can’t go back to Alaska, David,” Sloane said. She sat in her old bedroom atop her single bed, the bed she’d slept in for twenty years. The delicate floral pattern on the pink walls did little to soothe her quaking heart.

“I know you need to heal, but you can do that at my place as well as you can do it here,” he argued. Sloane hated to cause him upset, but she felt desperate to keep her secret. Eventually she’d inform him, but she was too frazzled to form the words now.

The conversation wasn’t going well, and he strode about the room angrily. He had his hands shoved in his pockets when he sat next to her on the bed. Already their physical closeness was dissipating. Sloane didn’t want him too close for fear he’d feel the bump that seemed to grow every minute.

“I know that David, but really, it’s been so long since I was home, and I can’t work yet, so it makes sense that I stay here.”

“Okay, then I’m staying, too.” He had that matter of fact, stone cold look on his face, and Sloane had to screw her courage into place before continuing.

“No, Grant needs you. You’ve already been gone longer than ever before. What will Bev do without you? What about that big deal you and Tony have brewing?” she asked, trying to reason with him.

“That’s done,” he answered curtly.

“What?” she said, incredulous that he should be so nonchalant about the biggest maneuver of his career.

“We moved too late. It fell through.” He shrugged his shoulders, and his lips puckered a bit. She wanted to kiss those lips, to rub his shoulders and comfort him the way he had done for her. Instead, she let the feeling pass.

“Oh, no,” she lamented, covering her face with her hands. “Is it my fault?”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, but his tone was terse, and she knew the whole thing had fallen apart because of the trip, because of her.

“See what I’ve already cost you,” she said dismally.

“Nonsense,” he chided. “I chose to focus elsewhere. You didn’t force me into coming. Remember?”

Sloane’s stomach was in knots. She needed some time to think, some time to plan, but David wouldn’t budge. If she went back to Alaska he would find out sooner than later about their baby, and Sloane wasn’t sure she wanted him to know. She made a quick decision.

“Listen, David. We have a great thing, but it isn’t permanent. It’s all just fun, and I don’t want it anymore. I need to stay home and get my priorities straight. You’ve got me all mixed up.” Her tone turned denunciatory. What she said wasn’t entirely false.

What?” It was his turn to be surprised. He stood up and walked to the window. His fists were balled at his sides, and he spoke with tight control. “That’s BS and you know it. We’ve got something you just don’t throw away. I find it totally unbelievable that we could go from making love to breaking up in one day. Did you bang your head when you fell?”

“No, of course my head is not injured. Why can’t you believe I would want to stay here, maybe get my life back? We got together as quickly as that.” She snapped her fingers, and the sound came harshly into the room. “Breaking up isn’t so different.” Sloane hated lying to him, but she had to. It was the only way.

“Sloane, please listen to reason. Let’s go home and figure this thing out.”

“Do you love me?” She threw the words like a gauntlet, and she knew the answer would free her.

He turned to her from the window, and the light streaming in behind him diffused his expression.

“Yes,” he said, “I think I do. I have been happier with you than I have ever felt in my life. I don’t want to lose you now.” He came to her side and reached for her then, and as much as she wanted to collapse into his strong embrace, she wouldn’t. He was only saying what he knew would get him his way. He didn’t love her. He couldn’t, or . . .

She avoided his touch, and he plowed his hands through his hair in frustration.

“
I think I do
isn’t enough for me. If we spend some time apart, you may know you do… or don’t. I deserve a firm answer, don’t I?” She did.

“Dammit, Sloane, I am doing the best I can. Why are you doing this now? Why can’t you just come home with me, and we’ll work it out?” His level of frustration grew with every word he spoke, and she could see she had hurt him as well as angered him. His eyes flashed at her, almost black. She looked away.

“I’m not a possession you can lug around until you decide how you feel about me, what to do with me. I’m staying here, and you’re going to Alaska. That’s final.” She laid her head on her pillow and closed her eyes.

David sat in silence, and she felt his eyes rove over her. If she opened her eyes, she would see his pain, and then she’d be lost. She loved him more than life, and she couldn’t settle for maybes and perhaps. Sloane wanted her happily ever after, and that didn’t happen on accident, like her pregnancy.

“David, please leave.”

“Look at me, Sloane. Tell me you don’t love me, you don’t want me. I won’t leave unless you do.” David’s voice cracked and shred the air.

It took every ounce of courage she possessed to speak.

“You don’t love me. I don’t love you. There. Are you satisfied?” she said, and she opened her eyes. She felt overwhelmed and ashamed of her lies. She also felt very close to throwing up again.

“No, I don’t believe a word of this, but have it your way. I’ll go. Call me if you change your mind.” He stood up and strode out her bedroom door. She heard his steps retreating down the wooden stairwell.

Sloane really bawled then. Like a baby who’d lost its mother, like a woman who’d lost her lover. Covering her head with her pillow, she let all the shame and sadness overtake her body. She sobbed until her mother came tiptoeing into the room and laid her cool hand on Sloane’s heaving back.

“He’s gone,” she said, and Sloane sat up and threw her arms around her mother’s slight shoulders.

“Oh, Mom, I think I might die,” Sloane cried.

“Sweetheart, it’s just the hormones. They’ll settle down at about the fourth month. You’ll see,” she wisely conjectured, patting Sloane briskly.

Sloane pulled away, surprised, chagrined, and looked at her mother miserably.

Her mother grinned and said, “I hope its twins after all this hullabaloo.”