He froze, his hand on the knot of his tie, his mouth partially open. Finally, he said, “As a matter of fact, yes. She leaves on Thursday mornings for our practice in Charlotte and comes home Saturday nights. I assumed you knew.”
When she realized she stood there gaping, she slowly closed mouth, remembering every word he’d ever spoken to her. She could hear his voice as he talked about their future, how much he loved her, how he longed to be with her forever.
He continued speaking. “Hamilton, Hamilton, Bosie, and Taylor. She’s Hamilton. Hamilton-Taylor, actually, but we kept the firm name the same just for simplicity’s sake.”
“Simplicity’s sake?” Was she dreaming? Dare she pinch herself? She exhaled slowly. “You never once said you were married. Never even hinted at it. In fact, what you did was talk about us getting married. Have you conveniently forgotten about that?”
His relaxed facade disappeared, and his eyes started darting around again. “Listen, we cannot talk here.”
“Then maybe you should have answered your phone.”
“Daisy, I need you to—”
“I’m pregnant, Jason.”
He stopped moving again. He just stared at her, immobile, for one heartbeat, then two. At last, he asked, “And?”
With the air escaping her lungs, she repeated his question. “And?”
“And why are you telling me?”
It had to be a dream. She’d wake up tomorrow and wonder what part of her subconscious created this absurd scenario. “You’re going to be a daddy, Jason Taylor. Just think. Sometime the last week of February. Isn’t that something to get excited about?” She wondered if he’d hear the sarcasm in her voice, if he’d pick up on the subtleties of her fury. “Or are you already a father?”
He glanced over his shoulder then looked back at her. “You need to leave. Please spare yourself the indignity of having security remove you.”
Security? With her heart beating furiously in her ears, she stepped closer to him and spoke very low. “Jason, I am pregnant. With your child. Yours. I didn’t know you were married. I thought you loved me.” Her breath hiccupped, and she paused. He opened his mouth to speak, but she held a hand up to stop him. “I need to know what we’re going to do now.”
His eyes glinted with irritation. “What we’re going to do is take care of that pregnancy. Wipe it away. I’m not going to have you ruin what I’ve spent a lifetime achieving. If you need a name, I can recommend someone.”
Gasping for a clean breath of air that didn’t contain his cloying aftershave, she took a step back, then another. “You don’t mean—”
“That is exactly what I mean, and exactly where I stop. I can give you some money. End of my part in this.”
Her mind whirled with words, accusations. She mentally screamed at him in two languages. Finally, she said, “I’m not going to get an abortion.”
He glanced toward the door as it opened and looked at her again. “I guess that’s your choice. Isn’t that the word bandied about? Choice? Do what you want. I want nothing to do with it.”
“Then put it in writing,” she snapped.
A confused frown covered his face. “I beg your pardon?”
“Put it in writing. Remove your claim to this child. Legally.”
“Fine.” He looked at his watch. “I’ll have the papers drawn up.”
“Great.” She gestured toward the chair she’d just vacated. “I’ll wait.”
“I can’t do it here.”
Daisy walked over to the chairs and sat down. He took the chair next to her and turned his body toward hers. “I can’t prepare the papers. Someone will see them. I’ll have to have someone else do them in another practice.”
“Great.” She smiled, despite the rolling mass of emotions trying to destroy her from the inside. “I’ll wait.” He huffed and surged to his feet. As he started to walk away, she added, “If security tries to remove me, I’m happy to ask your wife to draw up the papers.”
He cursed at her under his breath, but she heard the word. As soon as she saw the elevator doors close behind him, she pushed a fisted hand against her mouth and closed her eyes, praying for strength to get through the length of time it would take him to come back down with paperwork that would terminate any right he had to her baby.
A tear slid down her cheek, and she furiously swiped at it. She would not cry over him or his lies. She would not mourn something that never actually existed in the first place.
Definitely not a mountaintop moment.
