Chapter 17

SEVENTEEN

“ G od, I’m getting fat,” I muttered as I checked myself out in the wall of mirrored cabinets beside the ultrasound chair.

We’d only just arrived at the obstetrics center at Beth Israel in time for our appointment, where we were quickly ushered into a large imaging room equipped with several big screens and a much bigger ultrasound machine than the one we’d seen before.

I stuck my chin out toward myself in the mirror. “Check out these jowls. I’m going to have a double chin by Christmas, you watch. I’m already starting to look like my great aunt Valentina.”

Xavier had been brooding since Derek stopped by. At least more than usual. Brooding, but not snapping. I could live with that. My instinct when things were tense was to offer a bit of levity. Call it practice from three and a half years of redirecting eight-year-old brains from imminent drama over spilled milks and lost Pokémon cards.

“I think you look bloody beautiful,” Xavier said quietly from the stool on the other side of the room.

I turned at the sound of his sincerity. “I—thank you. But you’re supposed to say that to a pregnant woman. I know the glow is bullshit. It’s just the sweat leftover from nausea and running about a degree above normal. I’m basically an oven cooking this little bun. You could bake a soufflé in here.”

I expected at least a chuckle but got absolutely nothing. Instead, Xavier just watched me solemnly as I laid back into the ultrasound chair, my legs covered by the disposable drapes.

“You’re more beautiful than I’ve ever seen you,” he said. “And before you ask, I’m not saying it because I expect anything. It’s just the truth. You’re absolutely stunning.”

We stared at each other for a long minute, blue eyes meeting my green with such intensity I thought fireworks really might burst right there in the room. It was so different than sexual tension. So much more than the intensity that had passed between us when we first met, or even the longing of last spring, when we’d met again.

This tension was deeper but somehow swam right under the surface of every interaction. Transparent and yet completely unreadable.

What was happening?

I cleared my throat, and Xavier looked away.

“So, have you found anything else?” he asked, obviously looking for a change of subject. “About my mum, that is? In the journals. I saw you’ve gone through a few more.”

I smiled. I knew he was interested. “I have, yeah. But nothing more about her yet. I don’t think Henry was really that interested in the new assistant cook. At least, probably not until she got involved with your dad.”

He gave a grim smile. “I suppose I just wonder how it happened. In some ways, I could see the match. Mum wasn’t the warmest of creatures, and Rupert, well, he was basically an ice block. I’ve wondered if they sort of spoke the same language, you know?”

I nodded. It would explain a lot.

“Why do you think you are the way you are, then?” I asked.

He frowned. “What do you mean?”

“You’re not cold like that.”

He looked genuinely surprised. “You’re the first one to say that.”

I chuckled. “Hot and cold is probably more accurate.”

“Mmm. Yeah.” He snorted. “Jagger once compared me to Jekyll and Hyde. My therapist didn’t think that was very funny, but I did.”

“What did she say?” I asked curiously. It was the first time, other than the other night, that Xavier had even brought up the fact that he was seeking therapy.

“Probably what I always knew, deep down. I struggle with attachment anxiety, apparently. Effects of not having a dad, losing Mum so young, then having every other major person in my life die on me before I’m even thirty-five. She says I ‘yearn for connection but push it away out of fear.’” The last part he stated while gesturing quotation marks with his fingers. “I don’t know about all that. It makes sense, but plenty of people suffer tragedies in their youth and don’t turn into assholes like me. Look at you, for instance.”

“Me?” I repeated.

Xavier shrugged like it was self-evident. “You lost your dad, then your mum, in a different way. And your grandfather too—he raised you, right?”

“He did,” I said. “But it’s not the same as everything that’s happened to you…”

“It’s not far off,” Xavier argued. “My point is that you’ve lost just as much as me, but you don’t chase people off with your temper.”

“I don’t know,” I said slowly. “Maybe I do the same thing in a different way. Maybe I freak out when I sense a threat to my little world. Maybe it’s why I haven’t had any other relationships besides you. Like I’m too quick to write everyone off because in reality, I’m scared of being abandoned again.”

By the time I was finished, my voice had slowed, words trailing off as the realization of what exactly we were both saying settled thickly over the room like a fog. We stared at each other, blinking like owls. Xavier had a crinkle between his brows, and his fingers were gripping his chair so hard his knuckles were turning white.

I cleared my throat. “Anyway. I just see you with Sofia, Elsie, Jagger. Even Frederick, when Georgina wasn’t around. And with Henry, at the end.” A pang of guilt strummed through me that I had missed the real end. That Xavier had been forced to deal with that on his own. Again. “While you’ve got a hard shell, once it’s broken, you’re incredibly dedicated to the people you love.”

“You, too.” His deep voice finally broke through the fog. “Don’t forget yourself there, Ces.”

I swallowed thickly. “Um…”

“What?” he asked. “You think I stopped loving you just because you don’t let me in your bed anymore? It don’t work like that, babe. Love doesn’t care about rules or bedclothes. It just keeps going. You taught me that.”

We blinked at each other across the room, and once again, I found it nearly impossible not to get up and curl into his lap. Because he was right. As much as I hated to admit it, I did still love him. I had a feeling I always would, and I wasn’t really sure what that meant for my future.

Loving Xavier was never the problem. The love between us was abundant and clear.

But just because something is there doesn’t mean it’s good for you.

Just because I loved him didn’t mean he was right for me.

Right?

Right ?

Before I could say anything else, however, the door opened, and a woman with red hair and thick glasses popped in.

“Ms. Zola?” She glanced at Xavier. “And, Mister Zola?”

I shook my head. Xavier just sighed.

“I’m the only Zola,” I said. “This is Xavier Parker, my, um—the baby’s father.”

The woman nodded politely as she entered, followed by another younger man in blue scrubs. “ I’m Dr. O’Brien, the fetal cardiologist here today. This is Timothy, our tech. Thrilled to meet you both. Now, shall we take a look?”

I settled back into my chair while Xavier came to sit next to me on the other side as I drew up my hospital gown and allowed the doctor to begin her test.

It was much the same as last time, except this time, it was done with a traditional ultrasound over my belly, and the sound of the baby’s heartbeat was far louder than before. Instead of a soft whisper through the trees, the heartbeat was more like a hurricane.

Images echoed all over the screens set up across the room, and the tech and the doctor took quite a bit more time to focus on the tiny creature moving on the screens.

“You hear that?” Dr. O’Brien asked.

She turned up the volume. Xavier and I were already silent, but we focused on the heartbeat, watching the pulse read across one of the monitors.

Then I heard the skip. And thought my own heart was stuck in my chest.

I snapped my head back to Xavier, whose eyes were bright blue moons as they stared at the screen. They flickered back to mine, and I saw the same fear there that was throbbing in my chest.

He grabbed my hand before I could reach out.

“It’ll be all right,” he told me. “It will be all right.”

He didn’t sound like he could believe himself.

“That right there is the murmur your OB heard,” Dr. O’Brien said. She muttered something to the tech, and they proceeded to take several more measurements over the course of the next twenty minutes.

Xavier held my hand securely. And I squeezed just as hard.

“Okay,” Dr. O’Brien said when she was finished. “Here’s what I know. See that?”She used a laser pointer to indicate a tiny dot on one of the screens. “That’s what’s causing that little skip in your baby’s heartbeat. Now, here’s the deal. When the heart is forming, it’s actually normal for there to be some tiny holes here and there. Typically, all these holes close before the baby is born, and there is nothing to worry about. However, this one is a bit larger than we would expect, which is why we want to be sure it doesn’t develop into an atrial septal defect.”

“I—okay,” I said, unable to think of anything better. I honestly only understood about one in three words. Defect was one of them. Hole was another.

“So, the baby’s all right?” Xavier wanted to know. His deep voice soothed something at the core of me. “It’s fine?”

“It’s something to watch,” the doctor said evenly.

“And if it does turn into that atrial septum?—”

“Atrial septal defect,” Dr. O’Brien corrected him.

“If it turns into that,” I put in, “what does that mean? Potentially.”

At that, she finally looked at me with some measure of sympathy. “It can cause damage to the blood vessels. Put a person at a higher risk of murmurs, high blood pressure, strokes, heart failure. Things like that.”

With every suggestion, I felt my own blood pressure rise. “Oh—oh.”

“But that’s not where we are now,” Dr. O’Brien said. “If you’ll just wait a moment, I want to have my colleagues take a look, just to be sure. I’m going to show them the imaging, and I’ll be right back.”

Without waiting, she and the tech swept out of the room, leaving Xavier and me surrounded by images of our child’s broken heart, feeling like ours were breaking with it.

“Xavi,” I whispered, unable to stop the tears from welling.

The sound seemed to jerk him into action. Immediately, he swiveled on his stool and pulled me up so I was curled toward him. He set his forehead to mine, inviting me to follow his deep breaths.

“Listen to me,” he said. “Listen very hard. Are you listening?”

I swallowed, doing my best not to sob. “I’m—I’m listening.”

“We’re going to be okay,” he told me. “We’re all going to be okay.”

I gasped as one sob snuck through. “But the baby—its heart?—”

“No,” he cut me off, squeezing my hand and rubbing his nose against mine. “I said listen. No matter what happens today, what news we get, or what goes on in the future, I am not leaving our family. I am here. I am this baby’s father and your partner in this, come what may. I am whatever you need me to be, whenever you need it. Do you understand?”

His tone brooked no argument, and I found something about that settled my thrashing heart. The prick of tears subsided as I took another breath with him, then another, and another.

He was so big. So strong. But it was really his spirit that made him a rock for so many.

For me too, it seemed. If I would finally let him.

“I—I understand.” I exhaled once more, then pulled away, wiping a few stray tears that had escaped. “Thank you.”

He wiped away one last tear from my cheek. “No thanks needed, babe. I’m here for you. Always.”

My heart fluttered again in a very different way, to the point where I was no longer able to tell the difference between excitement and fear. It was a thin line between the two when it came to Xavier Parker. Always had been.

The door opened, and Dr. O’Brien reentered with the tech.

“All right,” she said cheerfully to a room deadened with silence. “Everything was confirmed with the other doctors. We’ll want to do an echocardiogram in another eight weeks to follow the progress. Now for the fun part. Who wants to know the sex of the baby?”

We drove back to the house in sort of a numb daze, neither of us able to converse much beyond cursory words to Xavier’s driver. It was par for the course, I thought irritably as the car turned down Van Brunt Street. Most couples would be over the moon to find out that they were having a little boy.

Yes, the heart issue was scary. But now that I had time to process, I was able to focus on the doctor’s reassurances over the time frame. That it might resolve on its own.

By the time we reached the house, I was substantially calmer. Even able to crack a joke or two. Xavier, however, was basically a statue. If I was able to turn things around, what was his problem?

And so I found Xavier lingering in the living room after I put away my jacket, seemingly unwilling to retreat to the basement or particularly wanting to talk.

Well, too bad. I was done waiting.

“Tea?” I asked as I moved to the kitchen. “I don’t have another tutoring session until one.”

Xavier just grunted, which I took as a yes as I set the kettle on the stove. He moved to the counter, where he sat like a disgruntled bar patron waiting for his next shot.

I pulled out the basket of tea boxes from one of the drawers and set it in front of him. “Here, pick one.”

Without looking, Xavier selected a box and set it on the counter. Stash Earl Grey. A tea I happened to know he thought tasted like fireplace ashes.

I frowned as I pulled out my favorite chamomile blend. Now, I knew something was really wrong. Xavier was as discerning with the things he put into his body as a dermatologist would be with skin care.

“All right,” I said. “Would you like to tell me what’s bothering you?”

Xavier scowled at his hands. “You were there. It is what it is. I just have to learn to deal with it.”

I sighed, then pulled out some mugs and put our tea bags into them. “Look, I get it. I was freaked out too when she first told us. But I think it’s important here not to get ahead of ourselves. Let’s just focus on what the doctor said about how it can resolve itself before the baby’s born. Things can change.”

Xavier snorted. “You can’t really resolve the sex of the baby, Ces.”

I looked up. “What? You’re upset about the sex?”

The look on his face told me everything I needed to know.

“The heart thing—yeah, it’s alarming, but we’ll get through it. Like you said, the doctor isn’t overly worried. But the fact that he’s a boy…fuck.”

I could not have been more gobsmacked if he had told me the baby was going to be a unicorn with an alligator tail and chicken feet. “Why does it matter if it’s a boy? I would have thought you’d be happy.”

Xavier just rubbed his face and shook his head. “Not so much. God, once this gets out, I’m going to have every lord on the island congratulating me. They’ll all want a piece of him, you know, just like they’ll want a piece of you. Except you aren’t a part of that world, nor do you want to be…” He trailed off, and that was when it occurred to me what he was really ashamed of. This whole thing was embarrassing to him. I was embarrassing to him. Our family was his personal humiliation.

I turned back around to put the tea boxes away but mostly to school my face into something that was slightly less appalled.

“Look,” I said. “I know he won’t be a proper heir or ever become a duke?—”

“That’s not it,” Xavier interrupted gently.

“But honestly, that’s no reason to be disappointed in him. He’s just a baby, for Pete’s sake?—”

“There’s nothing wrong with him , Ces, it’s?—”

“He can’t help it if his parents can’t get their crap together. And honestly, I’m sure if you really need to produce a proper heir, Imogene would be happy to step in and make that happen.”

By the time I was done spewing my personal insecurities all over the counter, Xavier had simply sat up on his stool to watch me. My face was heated, and my stomach felt sick at just the thought of Xavier kissing the neighbor girl, much less marrying her and reproducing. He said he would always be here, but what did I know? Dukes had more important things to do than take care of their ex-girlfriends and illegitimate children. Not when they had estates to run and heirs to produce.

Their babies would be so beautiful, too. Tall and dark-haired, or maybe blond and blue-eyed. Regal either way. Perfect for the next generation of lords and ladies.

“Oh God,” I muttered as I rubbed my hands over my face.

After a few seconds, a hand touched one of mine and gently peeled it off one eye, then did the same with the other. Xavier’s blue-eyed gaze blinked at me.

“You misunderstand,” he said in a calmer voice. “I’m upset because every advisor I have will encourage me to make the child legitimate in order to secure the line of succession and further erode Georgie’s claims.”

“Oh,” I said. “But you…don’t want that. I see.”

“ You don’t want that,” he corrected me. “You’ve made it clear again and again. I’m not going to force you to be with me, Ces. And it’s for the best anyway, because honestly, the last thing I want is for any child of mine to inherit this fucking mess.” He shook his head ruefully. “I’m not the slightest bit embarrassed by you or our family. I just don’t want any child to have my life at all.”