21. Claire

CHAPTER 21

CLAIRE

I sat on the bench studying my shoelaces.

I knew I should get up and get through my workout, but the very idea made me want to crawl into bed. Burrow into the pillows and pull the blankets up close, and sleep the whole day away, and then the whole night.

Half an hour on the treadmill , I told myself.

My head spun and pounded.

Twenty minutes. Fifteen.

I couldn't remember the last time I'd felt this dog-tired. Maybe in college, crashing off an all-nighter. But no, even then, I'd bounced back in a day. I'd been drooping for weeks now, yawning at my desk. Falling into bed barely past nine. I had Verity's pop-up show later tonight. I couldn't be like this there, or our deal might collapse. She'd signed on a week ago, but she had eight weeks to pull out. If she thought I was slacking, taking her goodwill for granted…

I yawned hugely and sighed. Was this depression? I didn't feel sad. I'd been keeping too busy. Plus, I ached all over. My food tasted weird. This felt more physical, some kind of illness, brought on by stress maybe. Wearing me down.

I kicked off my gym shoes, giving up on my workout, and pulled out my phone and called my doctor. She told me I was in luck: she'd had a cancellation. If I could make it in half an hour, she'd see me today. Soon, I was perched on the edge of her examining table, feeling exposed in my thin paper gown. She'd finished her standard poking and prodding, and now I was waiting while she ran some quick tests. Half nodding off right there on her table. Why couldn't I wake up? What was my problem?

A bolt of fear lanced through me. What if it was cancer? I'd heard of people going to the doctor feeling tired and run down, thinking maybe they had mono or a touch of the flu, only to come out with what could be a death sentence. I'd fight it, of course. Do whatever I had to, chemo, radiation. But what would happen to Timeless? My dreams? My empire? I'd worked so hard to get to this point. I couldn't lose it all. I'd have to find some way. Bring on a partner. A management team. Arrange my schedule around my treatments, and no one would have to find out I was sick.

The door slid back open and Dr. Miller came in. She glanced at her clipboard and frowned. My chest tightened.

"Did you find something bad?"

"No, not at all. Oh, are you cold?" She handed me my clothes. "You can put these back on now."

I realized I was shaking, not from cold, but from nerves. "What did you test for? Will I need time off work?"

She blinked. "Time off work? Only if you want to. I mean, six, seven months from now, you'll want to take leave, but?—"

Six, seven months? I'd heard wrong. I must have. Or she meant something else, not… "Are you saying I'm pregnant?"

She smiled. "You are. I still have some other tests I'd like to run, but those take a few days to come back from the lab. I'll tell you right now, though, I'm just covering my bases. All the symptoms you're describing sound like early pregnancy to me."

I gaped at her, speechless, trying to wrap my head around that. Pregnant. I was… pregnant? Sadness washed over me, and I wasn't sure why. This wasn't bad, was it? I did want kids. But tears welled up, stinging, and pricked at my eyes.

"I can give you some vitamins," Dr. Miller was saying. "Or, of course there are options, if?—"

"No. No, I want this." I blinked hard, but tears still spilled over. She handed me a Kleenex and I wiped them away. That was when it hit me, the source of my sadness: five minutes ago, I'd thought I had cancer. I'd been preparing myself mentally to face it alone. Now I had good news, great news even, and I was still alone, no one to tell. I should be sharing this with Conrad, but what would he think? He couldn't make time for me, let alone a family.

I sniffed, wiped my nose, and took another Kleenex. It didn't seem fair. He'd be such a good father. He'd been great on the island, helping Jake find his folks. Endlessly patient, endlessly kind. He'd had an instinct I'd never had, known what to do like it was second nature. I'd have to learn all that from square one, how to be good with kids. How to be a mother.

I got dressed and left, but I didn't go back to work. I found a small park instead, with a few trees and a fountain, and sat on a shaded bench watching the water. Whenever I thought of the new life inside me, my heart leaped and fluttered and my chest filled with warmth. Then I thought of Conrad, and I went cold. I had to tell him, at least. He'd figure it out from the timing. I sat on my bench and composed text after text, and I might never have sent any of them if my thumb hadn't slipped. What I ended up sending him was I have something , followed almost immediately by Sorry, something to tell you.

Conrad left me on read, so I tried calling.

He sent me to voicemail, so I called Sunny. Ten minutes later, she showed up herself.

"I brought you a smoothie. And what is his problem?" She thrust the smoothie at me, a thick purply-gray one. I took a sip, found it sweet, and took another.

"I don't know," I said. "I left the worst voicemail. I must've sounded?—"

"Who cares how you sounded?" Sunny took me by the shoulders and held me steady. "This is important. No, this is huge . And even if it wasn't, you are still friends, right? The whole point of friends is that they're there when you need them. You told him you needed him?"

I nodded. I had.

"Then there's no excuse. He's being an asshat. What you need to do right now is storm his castle."

I laughed in spite of myself. "Storm his castle?"

"That's right, march on in, barge into his office. Be like one of those talk shows — you ARE the father. You tried it the nice way. Now fling it in his face."

I shook my head, chuckling. "I guess I could. But, I don't know. I don't want to demand anything."

" Demand anything? He owes you. And he owes this kid. Didn't I read somewhere his own father left him? He knows what it means to grow up with no dad. He needs to step up and?—"

"I know that," I said. I messed with my phone, trying to gather my thoughts. An hour ago, this had been simple: Conrad had ghosted me. Our friendship was over. Now it wasn't just the two of us, and the stakes were so high. This was a child, and we couldn't screw up. We couldn't do this wrong, or our child would lose out.

Sunny touched my arm. "What are you thinking?"

I let out a long sigh, from deep in my gut. "I'm thinking I had a father, and he was the worst. Or, no, that's not fair. He tried. He did. But him and Mom were like ships in the night, avoiding each other, and he'd avoid me. I don't think he ever wanted a family. I think they got married because they felt like they had to, and it was awkward for everyone, this sad, quiet house."

"But you said Conrad's good with kids."

I nodded. "He is. But he's been clear since I've known him, he doesn't want a relationship. I thought that might change someday, but it's been twelve years. If he can't handle a girlfriend, he can't handle a family."

"Maybe," said Sunny. She sipped her own smoothie. "But you still have to tell him. Let him choose for himself."

I watched the sunlight play on the fountain, the pigeons pecking for seeds in the grass. Sunny was right. I did have to tell him. But all I could think was, he'd just disappoint me. He'd proven a hundred times he wasn't a family man. He didn't have it in him to make room for love. Conrad went all in, and I'd always admired that, but that meant he was basically married to Constel. That wouldn't change. He couldn't change who he was.

"Where'd you go?" said Sunny.

I blinked. "Sorry. Daydreaming. Wishing things could be different."

" Weren't they, though?"

I frowned at her. "What?"

"You said in The Bahamas, he was this whole other person, turning his phone off. Watching sunsets. Maybe he does want more, but he's too scared to grab it. Scared that if he tries, he'll lose you forever."

"He will lose me forever if he keeps ghosting." I checked my phone one more time. Nothing from Conrad. But Sunny was right. He had been different. That whole afternoon, exploring the market, he hadn't sneaked off to check his phone once. I had a couple of times, but not Conrad. He'd devoted that day to me. Made room in his life. One day wasn't much, but had it been a start? Had he been testing the waters, maybe thinking of more?

"Just go up and talk to him." Sunny squeezed my shoulder. "Tell him your news, and maybe he'll surprise you. Maybe this is the kick in the ass he's been needing."

I pictured myself kicking him in the ass. That made me giggle, and I stood up. "All right."

"I didn't mean right now. You could wait, plan your speech."

"No. I don't need a speech. I just need to do this."

"Wait, no, come here." Sunny pulled me toward her. She fluffed up my hair and straightened my collar, then went into my purse and pulled out my lip gloss. I stood there and let her put it on for me, and dab my eyes clean where my mascara had run. Then she stood back and smiled. "There. Now you're gorgeous."

"Thanks. You're a friend."

We hugged and I left her there, not pausing to think. If I overthought this, I'd lose my nerve, so I hopped the first cab I saw and headed to Constel. The man on reception tried to ask me my business, but I swept straight past him and onto the elevator, following some tech guy who'd just swiped his card.

"Press for forty," I said.

"I don't think, uh… sure." He swallowed, then pressed. We glided up. The tech guy got off at the twenty-eighth floor. I strode off on forty, then stood looking around. I'd been up here before, at the big Constel party, but I couldn't remember which way to go. Then I heard Conrad's voice down the hall, and I turned toward it, and this was it . I was doing it. A hot flush ran through me, then a shiver of dread. I almost turned back, and then I saw him.

He was standing in his office at the end of the hall, looking out on the city, talking on his phone. I stopped walking and watched him, the tilt of his head. The slump of his shoulders as he hung up. He sighed to himself and glanced at his phone screen, then shook his head. Was he looking at my texts?

"Conrad," I said.

He grunted, surprised. Turned to face me, composing himself.

"Claire, ah, I'm sorry. Did we have an appointment?"

I almost laughed. An appointment? Who was I? His two o'clock, here to broker some deal?

"We need to talk," I said, and walked into his office.

Conrad caught the door as I tried to close it. "I'm late for a meeting."

"Well, I'm late for—" I bit my tongue. I wasn't about to tell him like that . Conrad must've seen something in my eyes, because his expression softened and he stepped back from the door.

"Listen, I know I've been… this has been weird. And you're right, we should talk. But this isn't the time. I have meetings all day, and?—"

"Conrad, I'm pregnant."

His jaw dropped like a hinge with the nail taken out. He stood gaping, wide-eyed, the effect almost comic. For a moment, I felt for him, then he shut his mouth with a snap. He scratched his chin, shook his head, and his face went neutral.

"This is a big conversation," he said, monotone. "I'll call you tomorrow, and?—"

"What?"

"We'll talk."

" What? " Was he walking out on me? Putting me off for tomorrow? I snatched at his sleeve as he went to edge past me. "I'm not going to take up a lot of your time. I just came to tell you?—"

"Claire, please?—"

I dug my nails into my palms and willed myself to keep going, to keep my voice steady and say what I'd come to say. I wanted to scream, to cry, to punch him, but by some miracle, I kept my composure. "I came to tell you I'm pregnant. I'm having your baby. It's your choice, if you want to be a father, or if you're content in your role as sperm donor. You have about seven months to decide."

I felt the tears coming, so I spun away. Conrad caught my arm, but I wrenched loose. I strode back down the hall and out of the building, and my part was done.

The ball was in his court.