I’m a little taken aback by her candidness, and then I recall how upfront she was the first time we met. The appeal of it hasn’t changed. Our circumstances, however, have.
I reach for my water. “Not at all.”
Harriet shifts in her seat, the cherry-red leather squeaking. “Why are you here, Warren?”
My glass freezes midair, throat desert dry. What’s the best response when I don’t know the answer myself?
She notes my hesitancy. “I don’t want to force you intomaking a decision you’re not comfortable with. I’m capable of doing this alone—and I’m not really. I have amazing friends and family who have rallied around me since day one. You said you never wanted kids, and I guess what I’m saying is, I don’t want you to regret your choice months down the line or after the baby is here. I’ll respect your decision if you want to walk away, but I won’t accept you being in their life one minute and abandoning them the next.”
“I didn’t say I don’t want them.” My eyes falls. I’ve worked hard to construct my walls, ensuring they can withstand the trials of life. I never thought this would be my next battle, that Harriet would be the one to test my stronghold. “I don’t doubt you can do this alone. It doesn’t mean you should have to.” My voice catches, and I press my palms into the cool table top to stop my arms trembling. “I was married once, and after, kids weren’t in my future.”
She chews her lip. “And now they are?”
“Now, I’ll do whatever you need from me, no matter how big or small. I’m sorry I wasn’t there at the beginning, and if you’d rather I’m not involv?—”
“No,” she cuts me off and reaches across the table, her hand on top of mine. The contact sends a spark of electricity through my veins. “If you’re prepared to do this, I want you involved. This is bigger than us—this little life we’ve created—and while I believe you, it’s going to take some time for me to trust your word.”
God, she’s bold, intentions pure as gold.
My polar opposite.
She’ll make an incredible mother.
“I wouldn’t do that to you, Harriet. I promise.” I stress the last two words.
This might not be what I want, but it’s happening.
Harriet collects her honey-blonde hair and pushes it over her shoulder. My gaze darts up, ignoring the smattering of freckles adorning her delicate collarbone.
“Do you want to see the baby?” Something sparks in her eyes.
“The baby?” I reply hoarsely.
“Yeah. The scan.” She retrieves a black-and-white photograph from her purse and places it between us.
The world stills.
“I’m not finding out the gender, if that’s okay with you. I like the idea of a surprise,” Harriet continues, her voice dulled by the roaring in my ears.
My fingers hover over the blurry image. A head. Two arms. Two legs.
Half of me, half of her.
The hollowed cavity in my chest sputters, trying to revive itself.
“Button is healthy, growing perfectly, and due to arrive on June twenty-sixth.”
I glance up at her. “Button?”
Her nose wrinkles as she laughs. “When I first found out I was pregnant, I thought the baby was the size of a button. Turns out, they were a lot smaller. More like a poppyseed. They’re the size of a strawberry now, but I still call them Button.”
My eyes drift back to the sonogram. Keeping my emotions in check is difficult. The room spins, but my gaze remains centered on the little life in front of me.Button.
“You can have that one if you like,” Harriet offers.
Three beats pass. My voice comes out sharper than intended as I slide the scan across the table. “No, you keep it. We should exchangenumbers, though.”
Her excitement fizzles out, the moment ruined.
