For a fleeting second, I considered toying with him, punishing him for the way he was treating me. But I couldn’t do that. It wouldn’t be fair or kind, and if Noah and I were going to have any kind of working relationship as parents, I couldn’t play games.
“Yes, I’m having the baby,” I answered. “And I’m going to keep it. I considered all alternatives, including adoption, but in the end, I decided that I want to be a mother. This might be my only chance. I don’t know if I’ll be any good at it, but I’m going to give it my absolute best shot.”
“Okay. Good.” Noah nodded, and my reply seemed to have calmed him. “I just can’t understand . . . how the hell did this happen?”
I tilted my head. “May I refer you back to the night of Emma and Deacon’s wedding? And the next morning?”
He gave me a look that clearly saidwell, duh. “I mean, we were careful. We used protection.”
“Well, we weren’t allthatcareful,” I countered. “Remember the first time, we started to—" I cleared my throat and took refuge in the cold, emotionless medical terms that had always served me well. “We began to have penetrative intercourse before we remembered a condom. And even when we did use one . . .” This was a sensitive spot for me. I felt a little guilty. “That condom in my suitcase, it was kind of old. I should have known that it might not have been entirely reliable. That’s on me.” I glanced up at Noah. “But we have to remember that condoms are only ninety-eight percent effective when used exactly as they’re supposed to be. And that percentage drops to eighty-five in the general population. So there’s always a risk.”
Noah sat down again, his forehead creased. “You’re saying that either one of my swimmers slipped out before I suited up, or your condom was defective, or it was just our lousy luck with the percentages.”
I drew myself up to sit straighter. “I get that you’re not happy about this, Noah, but I don’t ever want to hear you refer to our child’s conception as ‘lousy luck’. I understand that this wasn’t planned, that we’re both trying to figure out what comes next, but I don’t ever want my baby to feel anything less than absolutely wanted and loved.” I felt the familiar rise of tears and willed them away.
“Of course, I’d never say that to our child.” Noah’s voice gentled. “Never in a million years.”
“Good.” I fumbled in my handbag for a tissue. “But you shouldn’t say it at all because you don’t know who’s overhearing something and repeating it. We shouldn’t even think it. Kids can tell when adults are trying to convince themselves of something, you know. They’ve got amazing bullshit meters.”
“Okay. Duly noted.” He braced his hands on his knees, staring at the ground between us. “So what comes next? Where do we go from here?”
I shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess we should talk about—”
The door behind Noah swung open, and Juliet stepped out onto the porch. Her eyes flared slightly when she saw me.
“Noah? What’s going on?” Her voice was filled with suspicion. “You’ve been out here for over half an hour. I was beginning to think you’d been kidnapped.”
Noah’s shoulders tensed, and I saw an expression of impatient annoyance fill his face. “Juliet, I need you to give me a minute. Please. Just go back inside, and I’ll talk to you when I’m finished here.”
“Oh, really?” Juliet folded her arms under her voluptuous breasts. Normally, I might have been jealous, but pregnancy had been kind to me in that area so far—my stomach was still flat, but my bra size had gone up two cups. This manipulative bitch had nothing on me in the boob department right now.
“Yes.” Noah was terse.
“So not an hour after you told me that we were exclusively seeing each other, you’re hanging out on your front porch with the woman who’s been stalking you? And I’m supposed to be okay with that?”
“What do you mean, stalking me?” Noah turned in his chair, scowling at Juliet. “What are you talking about?”
Juliet’s face flushed red, and I could tell she was trying not to squirm. “She was at the hospital, remember? I told you that.”
“Visiting a friend in the ICU doesn’t necessarily constitute stalking.” Noah paused and glanced at me. “Did you try to see me before today, other than at the hospital . . . and the day when you stopped right after I got out?”
I hesitated. I wanted Noah to know the truth—to understand that I’d tried my level best to tell him about the baby as soon as I could—but even so, I was uncomfortable with throwing Juliet under the bus right here in front of her, even if she was guilty as hell.
“I stopped by a few weeks ago.” I kept my voice even. “Juliet answered the door and told me you were at physical therapy.”
“Juliet always drives me to therapy. If she was here, so was I.” He shifted his gaze to Juliet. “Was that the day I told you I’d heard the doorbell, and you swore it was on television?”
Juliet looked supremely uncomfortable, but to her credit, she didn’t make any excuse. “Yes.”
“Why didn’t you tell me Alison was here? And why did you lie to her?”
Juliet blinked slowly. “I’d rather discuss that privately, if you don’t mind.”
“I do mind.” Noah shoved his chair backward, scraping it over the wood floor of the porch, and stood up. “I think Alison deserves an explanation, too.”
“You know, I really don’t.” I rose to my feet, hitching my handbag more securely onto my shoulder. “Noah, I’ve done what I came to do. Now you know—everything. You have my number when you’re ready to talk again.”
“Alison, wait.” He caught my arm, curling his large hand over my bicep. “We’re not finished. We have to—I need to—”
