She’d told Dylan she wanted to have everything—work, money, family. But what if this baby was all the family she managed?
It wouldn’t be enough, because she wanted Dylan, too.
Finally she admitted it—the truth she had been keeping wrapped up tight, hiding even from herself. She loved Dylan Johns with every fiber of her body. And while she might be ready to be a mother, that didn’t mean Dylan was ready to be a father.
Trying not to let the new panic spread through her body, Michaela stood and paced, trying to contain the questions racing through her mind by wrapping her arms around her stomach. Every “what if?” was there, and while she couldn’t answer them all, she knew she wanted the baby. And she wanted Dylan.
Did his comment about intentions mean he was ready for more? Maybe. Then again, he’d walked out on her tonight without a backward glance, simply because he got a phone call. That wasn’t the Dylan she’d fallen for on the ship. She wasn’t sure the Dylan Johns she’d met in Sydney was a man she’d enjoy spending her life with.
And even if he was, Dylan had been clear he didn’t do marriage. What if he thought she was trying to trap him when she told him about the baby? What if he wanted nothing more to do with her?
Her heart sank. Well, she was pregnant either way. Best she talk to him and find out.
Michaela looked at the clock on her dresser. Eleven o’clock. Dylan had left to take a call, an important call. His head would be full of that, and it was getting late now.
“Tomorrow,” she said.
She tried to think positive thoughts. He loved children—he’d said so plenty of times when they were onboard together.
But he works so much. How are you ever going to see each other? And how will you find time to look after a child and work?
They’d figure it out. Lots of women had kids and kept their careers these days. Especially women with supportive partners.
And if he’s not your partner?
Michaela looked down at her belly again. “I’ll have you anyway.” Her career would always be there. Getting pregnant against such steep odds—she couldn’t help but feel that fate was stepping in. She would keep the baby.
…
The next morning, she picked up the slip of paper Dylan had given her. He’d given her his private office line rather than his cell number, which his secretary screened. It seemed unfair to tell him over the phone, but she needed to face this head on.
As she dialed the number, she rehearsed what she would say over in her head. When the phone picked up, she blurted the words out. “Dylan, I’ve got used to you already. I really have.”
“Please leave a message.”
Crap. His voicemail. But now that she’d amped herself up, Michaela just wanted to get it over with. “Um, hi. I really need to talk to you. God, this is awkward. I really wanted to tell you this in person. But you’re so busy, I…well, I hope you really are used to me, because I’m pregnant. I can’t believe I said that out loud. Just call me, will you?”
Her fingers hovered over the phone as she contemplated whether to call him again and leave another message—a calmer one this time.
No, it might just muddy the issue. Calling like that was not what she had planned, but it was done now. He’d either take the news well or not. Best she find out what he really thought rather than trying to smooth over the matter.
She crossed her fingers as she put the phone down.
Stepping into the shower, she tried to forget about Dylan and the baby and review what she needed to do at work, all the while listening out for the trill of her cell.
Nothing. Her cell remained resolutely silent.
She tried his office line on her way into work and then again when she got into the office. At lunch three times. Nothing. Nothing. Nothing. A horrible sense of dèjà vu flashed through her. Not again. This couldn’t be happening a second time.
Michaela flicked back over their last few days together. Was Dylan Johns really life partner material? She’d only found him again when she ran into him at his office, and he’d had to leave when he got an important call. They’d gone out for dinner so he could apologize, but last night he had taken a call and left just when she’d thought they were going to resume their old physical intimacy. Now she’d left him the most important message of her life, and…nothing. Her stomach turned. The pattern was unmistakable.
Deciding to give him the benefit of the doubt one more time, Michaela looked up his office and dialed his secretary. The answer did nothing to alleviate her growing dread. Yes, Mr. Johns was busy. He’d call her back as soon as he was able.
This corporate Dylan Johns was always busy. Michaela didn’t fit into his schedule, she didn’t fit into his life, and neither did a baby. What was she going to do?
A calm settled in. She’d made a decision, right? She could do this alone. She would do it alone.
If only she could stop her heart from aching.
…
“What’s wrong now?”
Lily looked up from behind the bar with hurt in her eyes.
Damn. Dylan hadn’t meant to be so harsh, but there was always something with Lily. He’d had back-to-back meetings all morning and hadn’t even made it into the office yet. When his secretary called to tell him Lily and Michaela had both tried to get hold of him, he’d hoped to deal with Lily over the phone and make a dinner date with Michaela. Lily’s tears had changed that plan. Would his life ever be his own?
He steadied himself and reached for the plate of garlic bread Lily had ordered from the restaurant kitchen. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be abrupt. What’s happening?”
Lily poured herself a glass of water and took a sip. “The kids keep asking about when Daddy is coming back. It’s horrible. I don’t know what to tell them anymore.”
“I think it’s time for the truth. Brian’s never going to be the father you want him to be.”
Lily waved off his comment. “I know. You’re more of a father than he has been for a long time. You fit with us. You know how much the kids missed you when you were away. We make a good family.”
Dylan coughed as he tried to swallow the bread too quickly. Was he reading her right? Lily looked up at him from under her lashes.
Oh, no. He thought he’d dealt with this.
“I’m no one’s father.”
“You could be.”
Dylan’s clenched his jaw. “Lily, I love your kids, you know that. And you and I get along great, but we’re never going to be together. I’m not the dutiful husband and father type.”