LITMIR.BIZ

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his own parents, he would be a responsible parent.

      But that did not stop the whispers of doubts that were creeping into his bloodstream. Could he make this work? Would he mess up as a father, as a husband? He had failed as a husband once before. Would he do so again?

      His phone pinged and the screen glowed in the low light of his home office. He grabbed it impatiently, annoyed to admit to himself that he had been waiting for her response.

      I understand why you want to be part of my child’s life. But why do you want us to marry? C

      After his first marriage had failed he had sworn never to marry again. Hurt and angry at the endless arguments, sick in his heart at his own weaknesses that led to the marriage imploding. Sick at the knowledge that he was no better than his own spineless father. He had been repulsed the day he had found his father in the act of betraying his mother with another woman.

      But not repulsed enough to fight the weak nature he had obviously inherited from him. For Lucien had gone on to betray his first wife, Gabrielle. A betrayal driven by anger and jealousy and hurt and pain. He had found Gabrielle semi-naked in the arms of another man and in pathetic revenge had gone out and slept with another woman. Frantic to ease the panic and loneliness that had threatened to crush him, knowing that there was no one in this world he could trust.

      But now an unexpected need to protect his own was hammering through him and it pushed even his fears of marriage, of how it would expose the coward at the heart of him, to the side. He stabbed out his response.

      I don’t want our child to have any doubt about how much he’s wanted, or about our commitment to raising him together. This is a public commitment to our baby.

      After ten minutes of waiting for a response, he gave in to his hunger and was cooking fresh spinach and ricotta ravioli he had found in his fridge when her response finally came.

      It might be a girl. C

      Puzzled, he checked back on his previous text and saw he had unwittingly referred to the baby as a boy.

      He popped a white grape from a bunch he had also taken from the fridge into his mouth. And then crunched down on another. And another. The sweet but sharp juice easing the dryness in his throat. His heart did a funny little shiver. He was going to be the father of a boy. How he knew he had no idea. But he knew. The knot of tension eating into his neck all day tightened even more.

      He texted back.

      It’s a boy.

      He was plating his pasta when his phone lit up again.

      Do you really want to do this? I know you are impulsive in work, in the decisions you take, but this is about a baby, not a business deal you can walk away from if it doesn’t work out. C.

      He dropped the bottle of olive oil he was holding onto the smooth concrete of the kitchen counter. He could still back out of this. See the baby at weekends. And at other agreed times.

      He wouldn’t have the same opportunity to mess up his son’s life when he wasn’t a constant presence in his life.

      He wouldn’t have the constant fear of his marriage descending into a toxic mess.

      He wouldn’t have to deal with the fire that burned between him and Charlotte whenever they were in the same room. A fire that could easily derail their plans to raise their child together if expectations and emotions became confused.

      But he owed it to his son to make him feel the most wanted child in this world. And he would do anything to ensure that his son never doubted his father’s love.

      He punched in his response.

      I will never walk away from my son.

      He ate his pasta in silence. What was Charlotte thinking? Was she getting cold feet? He typed in another text.

      Will collect you at nine-fifteen tomorrow. I’m travelling to Rome after the register office and then on to Asia and the US but I’ll keep in contact.

      Again silence. He tossed his now empty plate into the dishwasher and grabbed his phone.

      I will curtail my travel when the baby is born.

      * * *

      Sitting on her sofa in her pyjamas, Charlotte laid her hand on her stomach. Was it slightly more rounded than usual?

      Was there really a life growing inside there?

      She sighed in confusion at the conflicting thoughts looping through her brain: why would she want to lose her independence?

      But then why would she choose to face being a parent on her own?

      Why would she choose to marry a maverick heartbreaker?

      But then why would she deny her child the right to have her father in her life on a daily basis?

      And what of her career? She would struggle to get a job as challenging and rewarding and with so much potential for progression outside London.

      But would Lucien be a feckless father?

      Or could he love his child as much as her own father loved her?

      A large lump swelled in her throat. She adored her father, his old-fashioned gentlemanly ways, his sense of fairness, his love for her mum, his dry sense of humour. The way his eyes lit up whenever he saw her.

      But against all of this constant jabber and these conflicting thoughts, one solid feeling pumped in her heart.

      She had to do everything to protect her child’s future.

      Which had to include taking steps now to protect her baby should anything ever happen to her. She inhaled a deep breath and with trembling fingers managed to type.

      The only reason I’m agreeing to this marriage is so that my baby has a hands-on, loving and attentive father in her life. If you aren’t those things, if work and your social life interferes, we are walking away. C

      After pressing ‘send’ she switched off the phone and threw it into the far corner of the couch. Instead of resigning tomorrow she would be registering to marry her CEO. She stood and walked towards her bedroom. Praying she knew what she was doing.

      Thursday 21st April, 11:10 p.m.

      Why aren’t you answering my calls?

      Sorry. Was busy. Had to work late to catch up after our appointment at the registrar’s office this morning. What do you want? C

      To check how you are.

      I’m fine. Thanks. Night. C

      Friday 22nd April, 4:54 p.m.

      Still busy, I take it? Or is it just my calls you aren’t taking?

      I’m at work. Personal calls aren’t allowed. C

      Funny. Ring me. I want to speak to you about the Poole project. It’s almost midnight here in Singapore so call within the next half-hour.

      Sorry can’t. In a meeting. C

      How are you?

      Great. Got to go. C

      Saturday 23rd April, 12:30 p.m.

      Just arrived into Tokyo. What are your plans for the weekend?

      Going to visit my parents. Will tell them about baby and our wedding. C

      How will they react?

      I don’t know. C

      Wait for me to return to London. I’ll be back on 30th.

      Why? C

      I want to support you. And I’m guessing they’ll want to meet me.

      I need to do this by myself. C

      Why?

      It’s easier to pretend to be in love with you when you’re not standing in the same room. C

      Tuesday 26th April, 10:30

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