‘What? Did you expect me to turn my back and leave in a huff? How can I do that when I’m nine months pregnant, for God’s sake? No, I’m not leaving. We’re having a baby very soon and I’m not letting love get in the way of that. We can go on the way we’ve been going. It doesn’t change anything.’
He only stares at me as if I’m speaking in a completely different language. ‘Of course it changes things,’ he says, suddenly forceful. ‘It changeseverything.’
‘How?’ I throw the question back at him. ‘Why does knowing that I love you matter?’
He takes a couple of steps towards me then stops and stands there, rigid. His expression blazes with shock and fury, his eyes glittering. ‘I want you to be happy,’ he says through gritted teeth. ‘I have been doingeverythingto make you happy.’
‘Oh? So this is my fault?’ I take a couple of steps towards him, because if he’s going to get angry with me for that, I’ll get furious right back. ‘Don’t you dare throw this back on me. You can’t expect me to live with you, sleep at your side, accept all the gifts you shower me with and all the things you do for me, and have menotfall in love with you.’ I take another step. ‘What did you think would happen, you stupid bastard? I didn’t want to fall in love with you. It just happened!’
His furious gaze matches mine and I’m surprised sparks aren’t flying at the contact. ‘Why?’ His voice is hoarse. ‘Why can’t you be satisfied with what I have to give?’
‘I am!’ I shout. ‘But didn’t you listen to me? Didn’t you hear when I told you that I don’t want anything from you? You never listen, Rafael. Just like you didn’t listen when I told you that it’s okay to keep loving your father!’
‘I heard.’ His hands come out and he’s gripping my upper arms so hard it’s almost painful. ‘This isn’t about my father,’ he snarls. ‘This is about us. About what you want from me and youshouldwant more from me. You should wanteverythingfrom me.’
‘Tell me what the point of that would be, Rafael. When you won’t give it to me.’
He takes a shuddering breath, and there’s something agonised in his eyes. ‘You should leave me,’ he says. ‘You should turn around and walk away. You should find someone else.’
‘Why should I? When I’ve already made my choice? A choice you made damn sure of nine months ago.’
He releases me suddenly and steps back. His face has gone white. ‘Olympia…’
It’s wrong of me to blame him for it, to bring up his stupid revenge plan, but I can’t help it. I’m hurt. I’m in pain, and I’m angry. I should never have told him, but I did, and now I’ve ruined everything. We can’t come back from this, I know we can’t.
I turn to leave and that’s when my waters break.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Rafael
I’m still inshock and anger is coursing through my veins, and I shouldn’t have said the things I said. I shouldn’t have blamed her for loving me, not when it’s myself I’m furious with. Furious that I didn’t think her own heart would be at risk. Furious that I thought that denying her the one thing she deserved would be enough. Furious that gifts and studios and pleasure aren’t enough, that she wants more.
She doesn’t want more. She told you that. She’s not demanding anything of you. And she’s right. You don’t listen.
That thought is still echoing in my head when she stops dead in her tracks and I see fluid running down her legs and onto the ground. And everything inside me seizes.
She’s shivering as she turns to look at me, her golden eyes wide with fear. And all my fury vanishes as if it’s never been. She’s looking at me as if she needs me, and, no matter what I feel now, nothing is more important than her and our baby in this moment.
I move towards her and pick her up in my arms. ‘It’s all right,’ I murmur as I stride towards the house. ‘I’m here and I’m calling the doctor.’
She doesn’t fight me, turning her head and burying it in my chest as we enter the house. Then everything moves very quickly. I call the private obstetrician who is managing her pregnancy. We both decided that we wanted our child to be born here, and from the looks of Olympia, we probably wouldn’t have the time to go elsewhere anyway. The doctor is on her way, so I get my dragonfly into a hot shower to warm her up, then bundle her up on our bed. I hold her tightly as she trembles and for some reason start telling her stupid stories about my own childhood here and how I got into trouble all the time and how long-suffering my parents were.
She doesn’t laugh at my pathetic attempts to cheer her, but when I fall silent, she says, ‘Keep talking.’
So I do and the memories come. And like that Christmas night under the tree, they’re not painful. They’re good memories, happy memories, and far more of them than I thought, and something inside me loosens.
I keep talking when the doctor finally arrives and I keep talking as she examines Olympia and then gives me some instructions about what to do next. Apparently our baby is on its way, and I’m terrified. But this is one situation where I’m happy to let the doctor order me around until I’m finally holding my dragonfly as our baby is born.
‘It’s a girl,’ the doctor says, beaming as she quickly wraps my daughter up and sets her on Olympia’s stomach. And I look down at the tiny creature wrapped up in white muslin. Her little face is all screwed up and she looks so angry, and it fills me then, the most intense feeling I’ve ever had in my life. A force so strong and pure and right that I can’t deny it.
Olympia has gathered her into her arms and I stare like a fool at the pair of them. And I realise that the feeling isn’t just for my daughter. It’s for the woman who gave birth to her, who created her. The woman who has stayed with me for six months, loving me, and who even when I told her to leave, didn’t.
It’s been there a long time, that feeling.
‘Call Ulysses,’ Olympia says to me. ‘Tell him he’s an uncle.’
‘You don’t want to?’ I ask stupidly.
