back in the chair, but he didn’t push her and she was grateful for that. It seemed to take for ever before the waitress arrived with their tray, although in truth it was only a few minutes. Zoë picked up the heavy silver pot and poured them both a cup of the steaming brew, automatically adding milk and sugar to Ben’s cup before handing it to him. He had a sweet tooth, something she had often teased him about.
‘Thanks.’
He took a sip of his coffee then set the cup and saucer on the table and rubbed his hands together. Zoë realised with a start how nervous he looked and wished that she hadn’t added to the pressure by making him wait those extra few minutes. Putting down her own cup, she sat up straighter. It would be easier for them both if she told him what she wanted rather than draw it out.
‘Are you pregnant, Zoë?’
The question caught her off guard. Her eyes flew to his face but it was impossible to tell what he was thinking. He was deliberately masking his feelings and the thought made her shiver because it proved that the dynamics of their relationship had changed dramatically. The Ben she remembered would never have been so guarded around her; she would have known immediately how he was feeling. Obviously she didn’t know him as well as she’d thought and may have been wrong to assume that he would help her.
Fear rushed through her and she half rose, but Ben was too quick for her. He caught her hand, shaking his head when she tried to free herself. ‘I’m not letting you run away without answering my question. I may have got it completely wrong, but it’s the only thing that makes any sense. You’re having my baby, aren’t you, Zoë? Why else would you have come here to see me?’
Zoë sank back into the chair when she heard the pain in his voice. She had hurt him badly and it was the one thing she had tried to avoid. All she could do now was be truthful and hope that in some small way it would make up for what she had done. Raising her head, she looked him in the eyes.
‘Yes, I’m pregnant, and, before you ask, Ben, it is your child. It couldn’t be anyone else’s. I haven’t slept with anyone else since we split up.’
A dozen different emotions chased across his face before he got himself under control. ‘I see. So you must be, what? Eleven, twelve weeks?’
‘Almost thirteen,’ she replied without hesitation because she had been keeping track of every day.
‘And do you intend to keep the baby?’
Zoë winced at his bluntness, but there was no point in lying by claiming that having a termination hadn’t crossed her mind. The only way this would work was if she was completely honest with him and even then it may be too much to expect.
‘Yes. Having a child has never been on my agenda, as you know. However, I’ve decided to keep the baby.’
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