Page 138 of My Fiancé's Brother
“I’m sorry."
He looked out the windshield. We sat there for a long time.
“How long have you known?” his voice sounded flinty.
I swallowed. “Since the day I was attacked.”
More silence.
He looked at me. “And how were you going to explain the baby to Matt? Or were you just going to pawn my kid off as his?”
I threw my hands in the air. “I didn’t get that far.”
He looked incredulous. “You didn’t get that far?”
My eyes filled with tears. But I had no response.
“Do you think that maybe this was something you should’ve shared with me?”
I looked at him with indignity. “You told me that you don’t want kids.”
“I don’t.”
“And you also told me that I should marry Matt.”
“You’re pregnant with my kid. If I had known that fact, do you think I’d have encouraged you to marry another man?” he seethed.
“I tried to tell you.”
“When?”
I swallowed convulsively. “In the parkade.”
“You should’ve tried harder.”
I crossed my arms over my waist and looked out the window. That night that he had left me in the parkade, I had felt so utterly rejected. He had been adamant that he didn’t want a family or any kind of commitment, making it impossible even to conceive telling him the truth.
“Well, now you know.”
“Really Emily? That is what I get from you? Now I know?” his arctic tone could have sliced steel.
I stole a glance at him, immediately sorry I did. His neck looked corded, and his nostrils flared. But his eyes, they were cold green slits.
It was more instinct than anything, but I scrambled to climb out of the truck. First I had to paw through yards of filmy white fabric before I managed to find the door handle. And then I flung myself out of the vehicle.
It was stupid really. Who thinks they can outrun a Navy SEAL? Especially when they outweigh you by 110 pounds, and you’re encased in a wedding dress that is so tight you can't move your rib cage. Nonetheless, I tried.
I got about 15 feet and let out a terrified squeak when his arm wrapped around my waist, and he spun me around.
“Why do you always do that?” he yelled in my face.
“What?”
“Run. You are always fucking running away in the middle of important conversations.”
“What do you want me to tell you?” I yelled back at him.
“The truth.”
