The Pregnancy Contract (15 page)

“But I didn't do anything. I lost the baby. It was a miscarriage—I had no control over what happened. None.”

“And you expect me to believe you?”

“Yes, of course I do. I'm telling you the truth.”

“And you're such an advocate of honesty, aren't you? You once told me that you loved me and we both know that was a lie. Of course I don't believe you. Your father had nothing to gain by lying to me. You, however…”

He let his voice trail away and Piper knew without a shadow of a doubt that she stood no chance of swaying his belief. Deep inside, the hope that she and Wade could make something of this together shriveled and died. There was no way they could ever have a future together.

“Knowing how you feel about me, I'm amazed you could bring yourself to have sex with me.”

The words tasted like ashes in her mouth. Sex? For her every intimate moment had been a silent expression of love. But clearly he'd had his own agenda all along. She'd been a complete fool to believe otherwise. A new thought bloomed in her mind.

“Is that why you loaned that money to my trust fund? So you'd have leverage over me?”

“You owed me, Piper. Big time.”

“You planned this all along?” She shook her head in disbelief. “How could you? How could you harbor so much bitterness and anger toward me for so long?”

“How?” he answered. “Easy. I want what you took from me, what you denied me the right to. A few hundred thousand dollars? That's nothing. But you know that, don't you? You always treated money as nothing. To you it was merely a
means to an end, not something to be earned or revered in any form. But a life? Not even you have the right to deem that as dispensable. Just think of this as a means to an end. That, at least, is something you should understand.”

“It wasn't my fault,” she said softly. “Please believe me, Wade. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't regret the choices I made. I've spent years trying to make that up. It's why I came home. I know I did you wrong when I left. I know I hurt my father. I wanted to make it right.”

“Well, now you have the perfect opportunity, don't you?” Wade said, his words like shards of ice. “Have this baby and then move on.”

M
ove on? Like she could just have this baby, a child that was flesh of her flesh, heart of her heart, and then leave? She stared at Wade in shock.

“But you said that it was my choice. To stay and be a part of our baby's upbringing or not.”

“I've changed my mind,” he said. “Once the baby is here I want you gone. My child deserves the right to be able to trust the people around him or her. He doesn't deserve people who will mouth platitudes when it suits them then leave the second the going gets tough.”

“And you think I'd do that?”

He raised a cynical brow. “Your track record precedes you.”

“I've changed, Wade. I've learned the difference between what's right and what's wrong. I've learned to value the people that matter.”

“Pretty words, Piper. You were always so very good at them.” He turned to leave the nursery but at the door he
hesitated. “I think it would be best, under the circumstances, if you moved back into your own room tonight. I'll see to it that your things are transferred over tomorrow.”

 

Wade lay in his bed, staring at the shadows of the molded plaster ceiling above him and missing Piper's presence by his side with a physical ache. He'd thought she'd changed, but she hadn't, and the knowledge hurt far more than he could ever have anticipated. He felt like such an idiot. He'd believed she wanted to change, to make a step forward in the right direction but she'd fooled him yet again. He thought he'd inured himself to the harm she could wreak but he'd been a lightweight in the face of everything. He couldn't afford to let her close again. If she could do this to him, what emotional hurt might she be capable of inflicting on their baby? A fierce surge of protectiveness toward his unborn child suffused him, masking the pain that dwelt deep inside. Piper was just like his father had been, paying lip service to what he wanted to hear and then letting him down yet again.

It hadn't been so bad while his mother was alive, or at least he hadn't noticed it so much with the buffer of her love there between him and his old man. But when she'd died unexpectedly, Eric Collins had been exposed for the sham he was. He'd downright refused to care for his ten-year-old son, and while Wade had bravely battled on, on his own in the house he'd been raised in, it hadn't taken long for neighbors to notice his father's absence and Social Services had been called in.

He could still hear his father's lies on the afternoon he'd been taken away, one of the rare days his father had actually been home—this time smelling of a rank combination of alcohol and stale perfume.

“I'm sorry, son,” he'd said. “You know I'd keep you if I could. I'll come for you, I promise.”

But Wade had recognized the look in his father's eyes,
heard the words for the platitudes they were. The look that told him his father was lying through his teeth. Wade knew that Eric Collins had no intention of ever trying to get his son back and that he couldn't wait to be free of him. It made the loss of his mother all the more painful.

Being fostered hadn't been so bad. The couple who'd cared for him were decent folk with strict rules. He'd learned that as long as he didn't rock the boat, life was pretty straightforward. But every night as he lay in the narrow bunk bed in a room with three other boys, he'd made a promise that he would always be there for any child of his. Always. No matter what.

The fact he hadn't had the chance to be there for his first baby was a scar he'd bear on his heart for all his days. But with this baby, everything would be different. And Piper Mitchell would just have to get used to the idea.

The next few days proved uncomfortable between them. At least at work Wade could lose himself in the day-to-day business that filled his time, only needing to cross paths with Piper when absolutely necessary. That wasn't to say he didn't keep a wary eye on her activity. Her movements in and out the office were carefully monitored. He didn't trust her, not one inch.

At home it was more difficult to keep his distance. He'd taken to bringing work home and eating his meals in the library. Fielding the looks of concern from Dexter and his wife became a daily chore. He hated the atmosphere that hung around the place but, he consoled himself, it wouldn't be forever. Once the baby was born and Piper had gone on to whatever it was that she wanted to do next, life would be much sweeter.

He ignored the pang of regret at the thought of Piper leaving and reminded himself that she'd done it before, she would just as easily do so again. Except this time, she wouldn't be taking his child with her.

It was two weeks after things had come to a head that
Wade faced a difficult choice. The senior manager in one of his new Pacific Island outstations had suffered a mild stroke. Most of the staff in the office had only been there a few months, and none were in a position to step in and assume a temporary management role. The one guy he could send from the Auckland office, Roy Beckett, was in Europe on other business and it was vital that Roy conclude the contract negotiations in person. It would be four days before Roy was able to travel back and pick up the reins in Samoa.

That left only one alternative, that Wade go there himself. The thought of leaving Piper behind made his stomach clench, but he didn't like the idea of her traveling with him, either. She looked so fragile these days, with a strain around her eyes giving her a haunted look that had everyone in her department constantly asking if she was okay. Here, at the house, Mrs. Dexter was like a mother hen clucking around her chick. Making sure Piper had small nutritious meals and that she did nothing more taxing than lift a cup of tea.

Surely, with so many people looking out for her, she wouldn't do anything stupid. Wade leaned back in his chair and rubbed his eyes wearily. She was sixteen weeks. The books told him that she may have felt movement by now. He couldn't imagine that even she would be able to bring herself to source a termination now.

He was in an untenable position. He had to go, but everything in him screamed not to. There was nothing else for it but to get to Samoa and back as quickly as he could. He put in a call to Roy and explained the situation. Roy assured him he could be in Samoa by Sunday. Today was Tuesday. Wade thanked him and hung up before lifting the receiver and dialing the airline. The sooner he got this sorted, the sooner he'd be home.

 

Piper missed Wade. Until this morning, he'd barely spoken a dozen words to her since that awful night. She'd come down
to breakfast only to find him at the kitchen table, waiting for her. She didn't bother to hide her surprise. That he'd been actively avoiding her hadn't gone unnoticed. Frankly, it only served to make her even more tense as she found herself continually anticipating the moments their paths would cross. At least this face-to-face situation was something she could handle. She'd learned during her aid work that things were best faced head-on. But what was a girl to do when the person she had to face refused to believe her?

Wade stood as she came into the kitchen, scraping his chair back across the polished wooden floor. Mrs. Dexter flung a look from one to the other and grabbed a dusting cloth.

“I'll be in the morning room if you need me,” she said, bustling past.

As soon as the door swung shut behind her, Wade spoke, “I have to go away for a few days.”

“Away?”

That was the last thing she'd been expecting. While he'd kept his distance from her, she knew full well that he was aware of everything she did. It was suffocating, but there was nothing she could do about it.

“A situation has arisen in our office in Apia. I'll be back on Monday.”

“Nothing too serious, I hope,” she said neutrally.

She was well aware that the Apia office was still in a fledgling state. A serious disruption could see a major setback in operations. And it had to be serious if Wade, himself, was going.

“James, the manager there, has had a stroke. He's going to be okay but it'll be some time before he's up to speed again. Roy is coming through to relieve him on his way back from Europe, but someone needs to run things until he arrives. No one in the office already is qualified to handle it.”

“And there's no one else who can go?”

“Do you think I'd be going if I had any alternative?”

She shook her head.

Wade continued, “My flight leaves this afternoon. I'll be leaving my car at the airport.”

“Are you sure you want to do that? I could always take you.”

“No, my return flight doesn't get in until nearly midnight on Monday.”

She experienced a fleeting gratefulness that she wouldn't have to stay awake until then. Most evenings she was in bed by nine-thirty these days. Long gone were late nights, that was for sure. But she'd have done it, for him.

“Well, if you're sure,” she said.

“I am. And Piper?”

She looked up, meeting his eyes for the first time in what felt like forever.

“Do not do anything you might regret while I'm gone.”

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean,” he said, a thread of anger tingeing his words.

She put a protective hand to her belly, feeling the slight swelling there.

“I wouldn't do anything to hurt my baby. Not now, and not in the past. Why don't you believe me on that?”

He didn't answer immediately, then his shoulders seemed to sag beneath the fine wool of his tailored suit.

“I want to believe you, Piper, but history has a way of repeating itself and, to be frank, I don't trust you.”

She reached forward, putting a hand on his forearm, absorbing the heat of him through his clothing and feeling that old familiar tingle of awareness.

“You can trust me.”

“I wish I could be certain of that.”

“What do I have to do to make you believe me?”

He shook his head. “I don't know. I used to think a person's
word meant something, but I learned a long time ago that words are only any good when they're backed up by actions.”

“You're talking about your father, aren't you? I'm not like him, Wade. I'm not.”

He recoiled at her words, pulling his arm out from under her touch.

“I'm leaving straight from the office. Just do as I ask, Piper, and don't do anything stupid.”

Without another word, or a backward glance, he left the kitchen. She stood there, hurt beyond belief at his words. He was a closed book, a story stubbornly unwilling to be rewritten. She went through the motions of eating breakfast, not out of any hunger but because she knew she had to provide the very best of everything for the child growing inside her. This time she had to get it right.

 

The house was quiet when she arrived home from work on Friday night. The Dexters were using their night off to see a live show in the city and there was a note in the kitchen with instructions for Piper to reheat her meal. She smiled at the neatly handwritten bullet-pointed note. Did Dexie not think she was even capable of reheating a meal on her own?

She shook her head, then flinched as the headache she'd been suffering from most of the day sharpened. She was reluctant to take anything for it, but if it continued to worsen she'd have to try something. A shiver ran through her. She'd felt the cold far more than usual today, and she decided to forgo dinner for now in lieu of getting on some warmer clothes.

Upstairs in her bedroom she quickly changed out of her work clothes and into a comfortable pair of stretchy sweatpants and a long sleeved T-shirt, and pulled on her father's old robe over it all. She cinched the sash around her thickening waist and rested her hand on her belly. Now at
sixteen weeks, this pregnancy felt different than her last but she was afraid to hope that everything would be okay.

She needed a distraction, she decided as she stroked the fabric of the robe. Maybe now would be as good a time as any to sort out her father's personal papers. Wade didn't seem to be in a hurry for them to go through her father's room. Perhaps she could have it all done by the time he returned.

Piper lit the fire that was set in the grate in her father's suite and drew the drapes to help keep the warmth in. The Dexters had obviously been airing the room on a regular basis because not so much as a trace of his presence remained. It was more than four months since his death and yet sometimes it still felt as raw as if she'd just heard the news.

She settled by the escritoire in the corner of the room and busied herself deciding on what needed to be kept and what should be burned. It was about an hour later that she cast off the robe and pushed up the sleeves of her T-shirt. She must have put too much wood on the fire, she thought as she realized that she had begun to sweat, but hard on the heels of the sweat came another round of chills.

This was ridiculous, she thought, shrugging the robe back on again, this time leaving it open. She was making good headway on her father's papers and didn't want to stop now. She still didn't feel hungry and it wasn't too late yet. She'd just check this one drawer before going back downstairs and heating up dinner.

The drawer contained a flat file box with her name on it. Startled, Piper lifted it out. She had never known her father to express any sentimentality over her childhood certificates and awards, so what could he have in here? She lifted the lid, surprised to see a collection of her old school reports and every single childishly hand-drawn card she'd made for Father's Day or Rex's birthday. Tears filled her eyes as she looked through them. The fact he had kept every one was proof positive that, in his own way, he had cared about her,
that she'd mattered to him. She felt the knowledge finally begin healing the gaping hole in her heart. Swiping away the moisture on her cheeks with the cuff of one sleeve, she set the mementos aside and pulled out the plain manila folder that lay at the bottom.