The Right Reason To Marry. Christine Rimmer

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      “That’s right. There’s no big rush to make decisions. Truly, you can just take your time, figure out what works for you.”

      He raked his hair back with both hands. “But...married, maybe? We should get—”

      “What? Wait.” Now she was the one frantically blinking. “Married? Us?”

      “Well, uh, yeah.”

      She needed to nip that terrible idea right in the bud. “No, Liam. Don’t be silly. Of course not.” No way was she getting married just because there was a baby coming. Been there, done that. Bought the T-shirt, saw the movie. Lived through the heartbreak. Never. Again.

      And dear God in heaven, could she have made a bigger mess of this?

      “Listen,” she said. “After the birth we’ll do DNA. You’ll have plenty of time to deal with this. You really will—and you know, you look awful. Liam, come on. You need to sit down.” She reached for his arm.

      He jerked away before she could make contact. “I’ll stand.” They just stared at each other.

      She cast desperately about for something meaningful to say. “Liam, I really am so sorry to—”

      “Stop.” He actually showed her the hand.

      And then he spun on his heel again and paced off toward the stairs, shaking his head as he went, turning right back around and coming toward her once more, halting stock-still a few feet from where she waited. He looked wrecked, ruined, but he held his broad shoulders straight and proud. “Last March, when you broke it off with me, did you know you were pregnant then?”

      She wanted to lie to him, make herself look a fraction less like a complete jerk for the way she’d handled the situation. But she didn’t lie. “Yeah. I knew then.”

      His forehead crinkled in a frown. “You broke it off, but you didn’t bother to tell me you were having my kid?”

      “I felt awful. I couldn’t make myself admit to you that we were having a baby. I mean, why me? How many women have you been with?”

      He fell back a step. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

      “Liam. I know you. I grew up with you. We were in the same grade at school. We even went on two dates in high school, remember?”

      “Of course, I remember.”

      “My, um, point is, you’re hot and easy to be with. The women have always loved you and you have loved them right back. How many of those women did you get pregnant?”

      “Karin.” He was pulling his hair again. So strange to see him like this, at a loss. Undone. “Come on, now. Where is this going?”

      “The answer is none of them, right—not until me?”

      Now he looked worried. “Why do I feel like anything I say right now is going to be wrong?”

      “Oh, please. No. You are not wrong. This is not your fault—it’s not my fault, either, though. Or at least, that’s what I keep telling myself. But I also can’t help asking myself, why does the condom fail only for me? Why couldn’t I have sense enough to get back on the pill—or better yet, get a contraceptive implant? But every time you and I got together, I really thought it would be the last time. What was the point, I asked myself? I wouldn’t be having sex with anyone again anytime soon. But then I would get a free evening and I would remember how you said to give you a call anytime—I mean, think about it. Four times, we got together.”

      That first time had been last December, at Christmastime. Then there’d been once in January, once in February and that last time in March. The first time, she’d promised herself it would be the only time. The second time, too. And that was the one where the condom must have failed.

      After that, it hadn’t mattered anyway, whether she got herself an implant or not.

      “Four times together,” she muttered, “and this happens.” She looked down and shook her head at her protruding belly. “What is the matter with me, to do that to you?”

      “Uh, Karin, I—”

      “No, really. You don’t have to answer that. It’s not a question that even needs an answer. And I swear I was going to tell you about the baby that last time, in March. I saw that last night as my chance to let you know what was happening...” She ran out of breath. But he only kept on staring.

      So she sucked in another breath and babbled on. “When I called you that night in March, I swear it was my plan to tell you. But then, well, you kissed me and I kissed you back and I thought how much I wanted you and how long it was likely to be before I ever had sex with a man again. I thought, one more time, you know? I thought, what can it hurt?”

      Still, he said nothing.

      She couldn’t bear the awful silence, so she kept right on talking. “I promised myself I would tell you afterward, but then afterward came, and the words? They wouldn’t come and then I started thinking that you didn’t need to know for months. Liam, I messed up, okay? I messed up and then I didn’t reach out and the longer I didn’t, the harder it got. And now, well...” She lifted her arms out the sides. “Here we are.”

      He just continued to look at her through disbelieving eyes. For a really long time. She longed to open her mouth again and fill the silence with the desperate sound of her own voice. But she’d already jabbered out that endless and completely unhelpful explanation of essentially nothing. Really, what more was there to add to all the ways she’d screwed up?

      He broke the silence. “I have to leave now.”

      She felt equal parts relieved—and desolate. “Okay.”

      “But I will be back.”

      “Of course.”

      “We’ll talk more.”

      What was she supposed to say to that? “Sure. Whenever you’re ready.”

      “Okay. Soon.” And then he was striding away from her for the fourth time.

      She watched as he vanished into the stairwell and didn’t move so much as a muscle until she heard his car start up outside and drive away. After that, for several grim seconds, she thought she might cry, just bawl her eyes out because she felt so terrible about everything and she’d done such a crap job of telling poor Liam he had a baby on the way.

      The tears never came, though. Eventually, she turned around and stared blindly out at the ocean for a while.

      By the time she remembered her raspberry leaf tea, it was cold.

       Chapter Two

      Liam got halfway to the gorgeous house he’d built for himself in nearby Astoria before he realized that he needed to talk to his oldest brother Daniel.

      Years ago, when their parents died, Daniel, eighteen СКАЧАТЬ