"And it doesn't matter what I think, does it?" he asked bitterly. "You've already made up your mind. This has nothing to do with me. It doesn't matter to you that I'm going to have to spend the next few months waiting in anguish to find out if this is going to end your life. You're so bloody selfish that you never took my feelings into consideration. Never."
"How dare you-"
"Enough!" He held up a hand to stop her tirade. "I need to do some thinking, and I need to do it alone. I will be sleeping in one of the guest rooms tonight."
She blinked at him. "What? Oh but-"
"I cannot be with you right now. I'm sorry."
She watched in shocked despair as he picked up his glass and left the room, slamming the door shut behind him.
The silence he left behind was fraught with tension. She seriously thought about marching after him and demanding that he finish the argument. And apologize. She did not get pregnant on her own and the fact that they had not been using anything should have alerted him to the fact that there was a possibility of her getting pregnant.
It wasn't her fault anyway, she thought angrily. Yes, she should have told him that she might not be able to conceive, but she had put off telling him because she had been praying earnestly that the doctors were wrong. That whatever had happened inside her had healed itself. There was a possibility of that happening. And she had faith. It was what had kept her going for years.
Sinking down on the sofa, she leaned back and closed her eyes. She could die. The thought of that happening scared her. So, she could understand his position.
He was afraid of losing her. To him, she was his only family because he was not close to his parents and even though he and his sister were getting along better now, the breach was still wide.
If he thought he was going to lose her, he would not be able to think of anything else. This was supposed to be a happy moment. They should be celebrating with glasses of non-alcoholic beverages and toasting each other. And wondering if they would be having a boy or a girl.
She wanted a son, one who looked like his father. She wanted that for him, for both of them. She desperately wanted a significant part of him to always look at. A child that would help to tighten their bond.
Taking a deep breath, she placed a hand over her flat belly and started praying.
*****
He should have brought the bottle with him. He had finished the little bit of scotch left in the glass much too quickly and his mind was not muddled. It was sharp and clear, much too sharp, he thought bitterly. So much so that he could recall every damning word she had spoken.
His wife was pregnant. A high-risk pregnancy that could cost her life. The thought of it had his blood curdling. How dare she keep that from him! How dare she put him in this untenable position! What the hell was he expected to do about it? Demand that she get rid of it?
Swinging his legs off the bed, he prowled the length of the room. He had seen the look on her face when he made the announcement that he was sleeping elsewhere. She had looked as if he had struck her. They had never been apart before, and it felt strange. He had come to appreciate making love to her, to hold her in his arms, breathing in her scent that would stay with him as he drifted off to sleep.
He had found a peace and contentment with her that he never dreamed existed. When he left her in the mornings, he wasreluctant to go. They had gotten into the habit of grabbing lunch with each other whenever they could.
And they talked about everything, or so he believed. Stopping at the window, he stared out bleakly, hardly noticing the full moon or the blanket of stars filling the velvety blue sky. How the hell was he supposed to go on with his life while waiting to see if his wife was going to make it through her pregnancy? How could she do this to him?
He loved her. The knowledge of it no longer caused him panic. He had come to accept it but could not vocalize it. He had shown her in every way how he felt, but each time he tried to tell her, it was as if the words were stuck inside his throat.
He knew how frustrating it was and because he knew, he did everything in his power to show her how he felt. Raking a hand through his already disheveled hair, he walked back to the bed and sat on the edge, his expression contemplative. He was going to have to think this through rationally and not in anger. Right now, he was furious. He wanted to wring her bloody neck. He did not give a blessed damn about producing an heir. His family was tainted as it is.
He had been given a gift. The woman he had married was surely a gift and he was damned if he was going to allow it to be taken away from him.
If she had confessed, had told him the truth about her situation, he would have told her that. She was the important one. Yes, he had thought about having children with her, but if that was not possible, he would have been prepared to live his life with her without a child.
She had brought life and light into his life and now he could not do without any of it. He could not do without her.
Lifting his head, he gazed up at the ceiling. "Do you hear me?" he whispered in an agonized tone. "I will not lose her. So, don't you dare think you can take her away from me. I won't have it."
*****
She woke the next morning with the sun streaming through the drapes and realized she had overslept. Which was not surprising, since she had spent the night tossing and turning, only drifting off a few hours ago.
Shoving the sheets off her, she was about to climb off the bed when her eyes caught the note propped up against the lamp. Heart thudding, she tentatively reached for it.
"'I've spent half the night thinking of a solution. I know a doctor who specializes in problem pregnancy. He's the best in his field.I will consult with him today and hear what he has to say. And Catherine? If he advises that it's best to terminate, hate me all you want, but that's precisely what will happen. You had no right to put me in this position. Losing you is not an option.'"
She read the note angrily again before tossing it aside. "We'll just see about that!" she thought with a determined lift of her chin. Surging to her feet, she marched into the bathroom and then marched back out again.