The Passionate Mistake (23 page)

He was unprepared for the way his gut clenched as her eyes filled with tears. She didn’t say anything, just stood there as they welled up and overflowed.

“Don’t do that!” he said sharply. He couldn’t think straight when she gazed at him like that, helpless, white-faced and trembling so he felt like a monster to have done that to her.

“Sorry,” she breathed
. She looked heartbroken and terrified; completely lost. Her face was tragic, and still the tears flowed.

He ground his teeth together, clenched his fists at his sides.
It was unendurable.

“You are so
bloody
manipulative!”

She shook her head at him, wordless.

He bared his teeth at her, glaring, breathing hard. It hurt him to see her face twist up like that, no fight in her, just despair. Why didn’t she damned well
say
something?

She had to stop crying like that. She just had to.

It was breaking his heart.

When he couldn’t take the pain of watching her anymore, he stepped forward and took her in his arms, one hand clasping the back of her head as he pressed it into his jacket. He moved
the lapel to one side so the zipper would not dig into her cheek, wrapping it around her a little. Her tears soaked into his shirt, and her hands came up, little fists digging into the small of his back as she sobbed, clinging to him.

He met the eyes of the three bystanders who had paused around them, ready to step in and protect the pregnant woman menaced by him
. He nodded a respectful acknowledgement. Each of them relaxed their wary stance and carried on their way.

He stroked her back between her shoulder blades, deep, kneading strokes to ease the terrible tension there. She was knotted like a rope. Lower
down the hard curve of her pregnant belly pressed against him, carving a way into him.

Carving out a place in his
soul.

Surreptitiously he splayed his other hand on the side of that mysterious hardness, longing to feel a connection with it. With the child it sheltered.
His child.

He didn’t want to acknowledge the warm swell of protectiveness he felt, with her nestled so close to him, their baby between them. The urge to
mend what was broken, to keep her safe from harm. It was just plain stupid. Impossible to trust her. Impossible to let her in again.

And impossible that she felt so utterly right in his arms.

A hunger rose in him to touch her, to feel the hidden silkiness of her skin. Her scent was in his nose, bringing a cascade of intimate memories. No, he didn’t trust her. But he sure as hell wanted her. Wanted to bury himself in her softness and reforge the link he had thought building between them; before she had destroyed it.

Though she hadn’t destroyed it, for it had never existed of course. Not outside his own head.

Yet there was the way she clung to him now, so tightly, as if she’d never let go, sobbing like she was destroyed. Over what? Why was she crying? Just because he’d been mean to her? That wasn’t right. Someone as heartless as she . . .

But no,
that
wasn’t right either. She would have to be a consummate actress to fake the feelings she had shown in their time together. And she was no actress. Look at her terrible performance as a meek and obedient employee.

S
he had felt something for him. But she had put her family before him; used his attachment to her to take advantage of him. Though ultimately she had stolen nothing, it was her intention . . . gnnnrrh. He didn’t want to do this like he’d done a thousand times already. To go round the same stale cycle of resentment and blame. Just this moment – just for this one stolen minute – he wanted to hold her and pretend that everything was as it should be, that she was his to comfort and protect.

That she was his
to love again.

-----

It felt like every pore of her was wide open, trying to absorb him, to drink him in. She could barely think, having this feast after her long famine. She was enveloped by him, like he still cared. He must, or he wouldn’t hold her like this, surely. But he was so angry, still. Justifiably angry.

“Why did you do it, Kate
? Why?” He spoke softly, with a regret that made her heart ache.

But he was asking.
Really asking, and now, silent and listening, waiting for an answer. Might he listen to her? Could he understand her, if she explained it all to him? The surge of hope within her was so powerful, so consuming, she faltered. There might be a path through this, if she could only say the right thing. There might be a way back to him.

She took a breath, held it suspended for a moment, two.
The right words didn’t come, but she couldn’t stay silent either. “I was stupid. I thought I was invincible. I thought I could have everything I wanted. I thought everything would be okay. I was . . . stupid.” She nodded against his chest and waited, not breathing now, sorting through what she could tell him. How she could frame up the truth – only the truth this time – to show him her choices had been foolishness and selfishness and ego, but not true evil. That she had the potential to be a good person. A person worthy of him, even, if he would just give her the chance to show it.

“Would you do it differently
?”

“Yes
!” she said fervently, then hesitated. “At least . . . I would want things to be right between us. No lies. No deception. I wish the whole Cathy thing never happened. That we just met at a party. Whatever else, I’m glad about the baby. But I didn’t intend to get pregnant.”

“I don’t understand that. How could it happen by accident? Were you careless with the pill?
With taking it?”

She felt the surge of defensiveness, the desire to go on the attack about contraception being a shared responsibility, and that he had never worn a condom after
the conversation of that first night. But she fought it down, trying to stay meek, to accept the blame where it lay. She could hear the clear edge of anger in his voice. She had to get this right. If she took the wrong tone she could lose this chance.

“
The doctor said it was probably the grapefruit juice. I didn’t know that could counteract the pill, but apparently it can. I would like the baby to be a decision we made together, but I’m not sorry it exists.”

“Oh, Kate,” he sighed and
she felt a faint brush over the top of her head like he had rested his chin there for just a moment. She didn’t know what that meant but she didn’t care. He was holding her and she’d never thought to have his touch ever again. She would soak up every moment of it, store it up. It was like wrapping her arms around happiness.

He sighed again. “I’m sorry I said what I did about custody. We’ll sort out some kind of peaceful agreement. And I’ll support you both financially.”

“There’s no need for money. I have plenty.”

He pulled back so he could look at her quizzically.
“You do?” She saw suspicion in his eyes, and pretended she didn’t notice. Who knew what dishonest or nefarious methods he might attribute to her? She didn’t want to enquire.

“Ye
s. I wrote a pregnancy tracking application. It’s selling very well. I did another one about nutrition during pregnancy that’s doing okay, and I thought maybe a general fertility one might go down well. I think I’ll add something about parenting once I know a bit more about it. There are plenty of parents out there. It’s a big market. So I’m sorted financially; at least for now. And as long as I save and keep developing new things as I can around the baby, I shouldn’t need any hand outs. Though thanks for the offer.” She lifted her chin, proud of what she had achieved in these five months of solitude.

“Oh. Okay.
” He paused, considered this, and she couldn’t tell what he was thinking now. Her open, honest Mike was gone and in his place was this guarded man. “That’s . . . well done.”

“I
thought I wasn’t ready. Really I was waiting for permission. For someone to tell me I was good enough; waiting for my dad, actually. It seems stupid to say it. I mean, I’m in my twenties. Of course I should know I can get out there and make things happen. But . . . well I’ve been seeing this counselor, and she’s helped me see I was . . . I won’t go into it, but I’m making some different choices now. It’s good. I’m happy about it. It was pretty messed up before.”

She was leaning into him so the heat of his body warmed her from knees to chest. She had to stand at an angle because of the thrust of her abdomen, but that was okay. Everything was okay. It was more than okay. It was unbelievably good. She smiled at him tentatively and saw
a quirk of his lips on one side. An acknowledgement rather than an actual smile.

“
Yes, you were messed up. You did some stuff that was just totally wrong.”

“I know, I know.” She hung her head. “I’ve talked through that with the counselor and she gave me information about human
behavior and authority figures that made me feel a little better, but ultimately we’ve focused on independence and taking responsibility and . . . I’m mastering new skills. It feels very . . . wholesome. I’m still not working with the family company.”

“That’s a big change.”

“It is. It had got pretty toxic there, and now I feel able to be my own person without the expectations of others.”

“Big changes,” he repeated.

“Hmm,” she agreed, keeping her head down.

“So I’m expected to believe you’re
a whole different character, then?”

She raised her eyes anxiously to meet his. “I’m not expecting you to believe anything that isn’t true.”

“So you’re expecting me to believe you’re a whole different character?” he repeated inexorably, his expression uncompromising.

Her head dropped again.
“I . . . uh . . . no, I guess not,” she said in a small voice, and closed her eyes, feeling the tears well up again. Her arms fell to her sides and she stepped away, a half step. She waited for the axe to fall.

“
I still can’t believe what you did. There are no words, really.”

“No.”

“You made major mistakes.”

“I did. I regret them a lot.
Often.”

“You treated me appallingly.”

“Yes. I’m so sorry. You didn’t deserve it. Not one bit of it.”

“
Sometimes you did treat me very well, too.” He paused, and she looked up through her wet lashes with caution, to see if – with his weighty tone – he was making some joke. His face held no clue.

“Not well enough,” she said humbly, and thought she saw his lips twitch for just a moment. Then they were still, and maybe she had been mistaken.

“I would be an idiot if I made any space for you in my life, whatsoever,” he said.

She felt her face crumple, the tears
welling up to roll down her cheeks again. “Yes,” she whispered.

“Oh come off it,” he said with some exasperation. “This humble act isn’t you at all.”

“I’m
not
acting,” she said on a sob. “I
am
sorry, and I
did
screw up, and do you think I don’t think about it ev . . . ev . . . every day? I
do
! I wish I could go back and fix it, but I can’t. And I know you h . . . ha . . .
hate
me but all I do is love you and I can’t stop and I ca . . . can’t
fix
it.” She couldn’t say any more. But she took a deep breath, and then another, and then she could say: “My heart is broken, Mike.” She put that broken heart in her eyes, letting him see all her regret, and pain. No walls, no cleverness, no defenses.

His gaze flicked over her face, reading it minutely. She felt weighed and assessed, and didn’t try to hide from him. He had the right
. She thought she saw compassion in his expression. And maybe tenderness. The silence stretched out endlessly.

“I’m afraid to trust you again,” he said
starkly.

“Oh Mike, please,
please
give me another chance. I’ll try not to hurt you again. I’ll try to be what you deserve. I will be. I can. I know I can, if you’ll just give me a chance. I don’t want to lose you again. I couldn’t bear it. It hurts too much. I’m not . . . I’m not perfect but I’m pretty damn good and I . . . if you’ll just give me a chance to show you . . .”

“I don’t know, Kate.”

“You said once that I was loyal. I mean, you didn’t know you were talking about me to me at the time, but you said I was the sort of person who, once they get pointed in the right direction, will just keep on going that way, without deviation. You said I was loyal. And unswerving.”

His brows drew together in confusion as he searched his memories for that conversation months ago. She saw them go
up as he recalled the moment, and the beginning of anger in his eyes – she guessed at the remembrance of how she had fooled him – so she hurried to speak before he could say anything.

“You were right. You were right that that’s how I am. I was loyal and unswerving to my family, and so I did
n’t question when I should have; didn’t protect you like I should. I’m still that loyal, unswerving person, but now I’m on a much better course. The right one, I think. I want to make a new family. Which is not to say I forget my old one completely. But they’re on a different path. I’m choosing mine now, not just inheriting. I want you in it. If you will be. If you can forgive me. Oh Mike, I want it so much! For you to be my family, and this baby too, and we make decisions for just us, to do the things we think are right. To . . . to write software together, and grow your business and . . . and maybe make more children if I do okay with this one. I want that, Mike.”