Except… shit. I shouldn’t drink wine now I’m pregnant, should I? Argh. Another reason not to go ahead with this baby.
Immediately, I wince at the cavalier statement. Honestly, I scold myself, turning into the Ark and cycling up the drive. I’m ashamed of myself, even if nobody else can hear my thoughts.
The Ark is mostly in darkness, as the vets will all have gone home. Ward Seven is lit up to the left, because there’s always someone there looking after the animals recovering from operations. And there’s also a light shining through the windows of the Forever Home, as someone always stays with the rescue animals.
At that moment, I see someone sitting on the bench at the front of the Quad, looking out at the view. It’s Jude. Ofcourseit is. Damn it. He’s the last person I want to see right now.
He’s having a cigarette. I know he used to smoke, although he’d stopped before I met him, but seeing it now makes my stomach twist. I slow the bike as I near the Quad, not really wanting to talk, but feeling as if I can’t pass him without speaking.
“Hey,” he says. He’s leaning back, one arm along the back of the seat, an ankle resting on the other knee. He’s still one of the best-looking guys I’ve ever met in real life. Oddly, though, I miss Archer’s blue eyes and beard, his tall, strong frame, and steady gaze, and I realize I find Jude lacking now.
It’s unusual to see anyone smoking at the Ark, and I can’t help but frown at the cigarette.
“Don’t glare,” he says. “It calms me down.”
“It’s none of my business what you do anymore,” I point out. “Anyway, why do you need to calm down? What’s up?”
He just shrugs. Then he says, “You heading back to the cottage?”
“Yeah.”
He nods. “You’ve been with Archer, I guess?”
His voice is flat, and I bristle. “It’s none of your business.”
He has a puff, then tips his head back and exhales, studying my face. “What’s up? You look upset.”
There are a hundred people more suitable for me to confess to. But none of them are in front of me, and I can’t stop my eyes filling with tears.
He frowns. “You okay?”
“Not really.” I wipe beneath my eyes. “I’m pregnant.”
His eyebrows rise. He stares at me while I wipe my cheeks again, cursing that the tears keep falling. Maybe he’s thinking back, calculating how long ago we slept together.
“Don’t worry,” I say flatly. “It’s not yours.”
He gives a short, harsh laugh. “Right.” His voice is as bitter as coffee, heavy with hurt. Talk about dog in the manger. He didn’t want me, but he doesn’t want anyone else to have me.
Suddenly, I feel overwhelmingly tired. “We didn’t do it to spite you, Jude. Nobody’s happy about it, least of all me and Archer.”
He’s quiet for a moment, and I shift on the bike, getting ready to move on. But then his expression softens, and he says, “It’ll have been a shock. He takes a while to process stuff. Give him some time.”
I swallow hard. “I don’t know. It’s all such a fucking mess.” I wipe beneath my eyes again. I’m not crying, but they just keep leaking.
He thinks for a moment. Has another puff of the cigarette and blows out the smoke. Then he says, “I was thinking about when the two of you first met at that party. I introduced you and you shook hands, and then you wandered off to talk to a friend. He watched you go, and he had this odd look on his face. I thought maybe he recognized you from somewhere, and I said, ‘Have you seen her before?’ He stared at you for a few seconds longer, then looked at me, and he switched on his smile and said, ‘Nah, she seems nice though,’ and changed the subject. But I think he fell in love with you at thatmoment.” He taps the cigarette, causing some ash to fall onto the grass. “It pissed me off at the time. But I saw it.”
I take a shivery breath and wipe my face. “Oh God, don’t…”
“He’ll come around. Just give him time.”
I can’t stop the tears falling. “I have to go.”
He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t try to stop me. He just has another puff of the cigarette and blows the smoke into the night air.
I cycle off, go around the Ark, and head towards the cottage. I can hardly see where I’m going because of my tears, and I almost run over the person standing on the path in front of me.
“Whoa!” It’s Noah, out walking his dogs, and he catches the handlebars of the bike as I bowl into him. “Careful!”
