Rachel dropped her head into her hands and rubbed at her hair, unable to bear the intensity of his stare. ‘I’m not sure it’s the sort of thing you can compromise on. It’s sort of an either-or situation.’
‘Still,’ Leo said, his expression bordering on haggard when she peeked up through her fingers. ‘When did you decide this, if you only just found out? You can’t have had time to think it through.’
‘I haven’t. I don’t need to. I know some people would choose something different, and I totally respect the right to make that choice. But it’s not what I want.’ She couldn’t explain the fiercely protective instinct that told her she had to keep this baby, but that didn’t mean she didn’t recognise it. It had been there, lurking, since the minute she’d read the word ‘Pregnant’ on the test. It was the reason she’d had decaf coffee, and the reason she’d told Leo now, without needing time to think through their options.
‘Did you plan this?’ Leo’s question snapped her out of her thoughts in an instant, and cut straight to her heart. She gaped at him, affronted.
‘Why in God’s name would you think I planned this?’ He sat back against his chair again, letting it take his weight as if he were no longer able.
‘You plan everything else.’ His expression was hard and guarded—she flinched from the anger and the hurt she could see simmering below the surface. She wouldn’t stand for this. This was not her fault. They had both played their part in getting them to this point, and they would both have to deal with the consequences. She opened her mouth to tell him that, but he spoke first. ‘What was it—a big birthday on the horizon got your biological clock ticking? Did you reach the entry in your calendar that read “Start a family” and just pick up the next willing donor?’
She dropped her fork in shock, her mouth open as she tried—and failed—to put words to her hurt.
‘Do you really think I’m capable of that?’ Rachel asked, her voice low and throaty as she fought down tears, disbelieving that he could be capable of such cruelty. Of course she knew that she didn’t know him well, but she’d thought after that night she had a pretty good measure of him. Nowhere had she seen the capacity for such heartlessness. ‘Because I’m cutting you a hell of a lot of slack here by not throwing something.’
‘No. I don’t know. God.’ He ran his fingers through his hair. ‘I honestly don’t know what to think. I turn up at your office hoping for a smile and a flirt and maybe—if I played my cards right—a repeat performance of that night. And you tell me that I’m going to be a father, whether it’s what I want or not. I tell you, I’ve thought about you since that night, thought about you a lot, actually, but I never imagined...this.’
Rachel let out a long sigh. ‘How could you? I can barely imagine it now, barely believe that it’s true.’ She took another long sip of her water and picked disconsolately at her congealing pasta. ‘What are we going to do?’
She gave a little shudder at the sudden realisation she had no answer to that question. The next few months, years, decades of her life—which this morning had a predictable, reliable pattern—suddenly blurred, as she saw her plans for the future evaporating. To be replaced with...what? She had no idea what the next few days looked like now, never mind anything beyond that. A fist of fear gripped her lungs, and she struggled to draw in a breath. When she finally managed to drag in a couple of gasps of oxygen, she found that they were stuck there. She tried to force them out, but the effort tightened her chest further. One hand flew to her shirt, pulling at the collar as if it would somehow help the air move.
Her movement must have startled Leo, because his gaze flew from where it had been locked on the tablecloth to her face, and she saw her alarm reflected there. ‘Rachel?’ he asked urgently. ‘What’s wrong?’ His hand reached for hers across the table.
‘Can’t...breathe...’ she managed to gasp.
‘Did you swallow something?’
She shook her head and saw realisation dawn in his eyes. He gripped her hand harder and pulled her from her seat, throwing some notes on the table and leading her quickly to the door. Once outside, he pulled her through the gates of a small park and down beside him onto a bench. He placed his hand firmly on her face, his palm cupping her cheek.
‘Look at me,’ he ordered her, his voice steady and understanding. ‘Rachel?’ Her darting gaze locked onto him.
‘You can breathe just fine,’ he told her, his eyes fixed on hers, his voice calm but firm. ‘I’m going to count and you’re going to breathe out. Then you’re going to breathe in.’ She nodded, willing herself to believe him, listening to his voice rather than the racing of her mind as he counted ‘one...two...three...’ With her lungs so full she thought they might burst, she looked at his eyes, focused on his words, the simplicity and predictability of the numbers, and let her chest relax, let go of the solid tightness of her shoulders and the terror in her mind. As she gradually felt her body return to normal, she slumped back on the bench, and Leo did the same.
‘Thanks,’ she managed eventually.
‘Okay,’ Leo said. ‘I think one thing we have to agree on right now is that neither of us is particularly able to make important decisions at the moment.’
‘I—’
‘Just had a panic attack. Forgive me if I take that to mean we need a little time.’ She nodded slowly, unable to dispute his words. This might be easier if she were doing it alone, she thought. If she could make a plan exactly as she wanted, and then stick to it.
She knew without question that life couldn’t happen that way with Leo. He would throw her plans off course from the first possible moment, and insist on chaos as often as possible after that. Just the thought of it made her chest feel tight again.
‘Do you have to go back to the office or can I see you home?’ Not words to help her to breathe normally.
‘I have to get back,’ she said, thinking of her and Will’s schedule for the afternoon. She couldn’t just not turn up.
‘We need to talk, properly,’ Leo said, and reached for her hand—a spark of something half remembered flickered between their skin. Her first instinct was to snatch her hand back—his touch was too dangerous—but his fingers clamped around hers before she could. His other hand tucked her hair behind her ear, and smudged away a tear that was trickling over her cheek. He turned her to look at him, and she relaxed, thinking how easy it would be to lean forward, to brush her lips against his, to lose herself for a moment. Leo’s breathing quickened, and she knew he’d thought it, too. But, she told herself, the last thing this situation needed was more complications.
She dropped her gaze and pulled back slightly.
‘Perhaps we should talk in a few days, when we’ve had time to think...’ Her voice tailed off as she tried to reshape her view of the world to imagine how that conversation would go. ‘Are you coming up to London again?’
‘No,’ Leo said, with a small shake of his head. ‘Not for a while. But you could come down to my place in Dorset, get away for a few days.’
Rachel opened her mouth to protest, but he held up a hand to stop her. ‘Just hear me out. There’s space, fresh air and distance from your office. I’m not promising sea air has all the answers, but maybe a change of perspective...?’
‘I’m
