I loved him too much to deny him the future he wanted.
Luke
“I need to talk to you,” Ashleigh said, hovering at the door to the living area.
Why did women always want to have a conversation when rugby was on? I reached for her to pull her onto my knee.
“I’m serious. Can we talk?” Her voice was wobbly. I glanced at her face to see if I could read what was going through her head.
“Can I just watch this conversion?” We were neck and neck with the All Blacks.
Ashleigh forced a smile, pushed off my lap and headed back into the bedroom, where she’d been most of the morning. Shit. I muted the TV and followed her. I found her sitting on the bed, her knees pulled to her chest, her eyes fixed to the floor. “I don’t think we’re going to work out.”
I laughed. “Is my rugby watching too much to bear?” I sat down next to her. She moved away from me.
“I’m serious. I think I’m going to move out. The tenant hasn’t moved into my place yet. I don’t think we’re going to work.” She stood.
Blood crashed against my ears. Was I hearing things? Was she trying to end things? “What the fuck? Are you serious? What happened?” I stood up and tried to get her to look at me, but she kept moving out of the way.
“Nothing happened. I think this is best.”
A suitcase was open on the bed, and she’d started to put clothes in it. What the fuck was going on? She’d been asleep last night when I got in, and she’d been a bit quiet today. What could have happened? My heart was beating so hard my entire body pulsed. The thought of being without her, even for a night, was too much.
“Are you mad I had to work late? Or that I’m watching rugby?”
She shook her head. “No, of course not.”
“But you love me. Why do you want to go? Ashleigh, please talk to me.”
“I just need to give us both some time.”
What the fuck did that mean? How could she possibly be changing her mind, now? Fury ran up my spine. I grabbed the suitcase off the bed and emptied her clothes onto the floor.
“Luke!”
“No, Ashleigh. You’re not going anywhere. That’s the deal. You and me, we’re together. We don’t leave each other. I don’t need time, but if you do, then you need to tell me why. I deserve that much.” My frustration made my voice louder than it should have been. I never wanted to shout at her, but she wasn’t talking to me.
She collapsed back on the bed, hands covering her face.
I took a deep breath. “Have you changed your mind about us?” I asked, lying beside her on the bed, trying to pry her hands away so she’d look at me. Maybe that way I’d be able to tell what the matter was. This had come so out of left field.
“I don’t know.”
A sharp stabbing pushed into my gut. She’d changed her mind about us? How was that possible?
“I think maybe we want different things.”
I stopped trying to move her hands and rolled to my back next to her. I’d been pushing too hard. Even though I’d not proposed, she must have felt pressured. I should have been more patient. Let her take the lead more. But I’d awakened from an Ashleigh coma. I wanted to get on with things. I’d been a fool to think I could hide it.
“I’m sorry if I’ve been too much. I just love you a crazy amount, and I don’t know how to cover it up.”
“What?” she asked.
“I should have tried to hold back more—and I shouldn’t have pressured you to move in.”
“That’s not what I meant,” she replied.
“Then what? Is it my job?” I didn’t understand what was happening. “Are you worried about what my becoming partner will do to us?”
She sat bolt upright. Was that it? She thought I’d spend too much time at work and wouldn’t have enough time for her? She clasped her hands over her mouth and fled into the bathroom. I hated seeing her so upset. I wanted to comfort her, reassure her that if that was the problem, I would make time for her. I found her hunched over the toilet.
“Jesus, are you okay? Are you sick?”
On cue, she began to retch. Fuck. I stood beside her and gathered her hair out of her way as she clung to the porcelain and her whole body heaved.
“What have you eaten? I feel fine after that omelet.” Of course, she couldn’t speak—she was too busy throwing up. I began to rub her back. Maybe she was sick, like terminally ill or something, and was running away so I didn’t have to take care of her. She was so selfless; it was the kind of thing she’d do.
“Ashleigh. Are you sick? Is there something wrong? Like seriously wrong? Is that why you want to leave?”
She reached for some toilet paper and wiped her mouth.
“Ashleigh, you’re scaring me.”
“No, Luke, it’s nothing like that . . .” She began to retch again.
Given that she was vomiting like the exorcist, she seemed remarkably calm.
“You’re not . . .” I didn’t finish my sentence. The words hung in the air between us. She wasn’t saying anything, and neither was I.
Jesus, she was pregnant? Was I going to be a father? How fucking terrifying. And how amazingly wonderful. I tried not to grin as Ashleigh continued retching, her breathing labored.
But then why did she want to leave me? Did she not want it? Was it all too much too soon for her? I wanted this baby—a family—with her. Surely I could convince her it would all be okay.
I grabbed a clip from the sink and piled her hair into it as best I could. I knelt down beside her and continued to rub her back.
I was going to be a father. We were going to be parents. This was perfect. Our kids would be the same age as Haven and Jake’s. There was nothing to be upset about.
I wanted to ask her a million questions, but she wasn’t in a position to answer any of them.
Eventually the heaving slowed, and one-handed, so my hand didn’t leave her back, I managed to fill a glass with water.
“Here, drink this,” I said softly, sitting back down. “Small sips.”
She took the glass from me. “I feel disgusting.”
Silently, she stood and washed her face and cleaned her teeth. My eyes didn’t leave her for a second.
“Well, you look beautiful.” I looked at her. I wanted her to understand that I knew without actually saying so. “You’re glowing.”
“I’m sorry. It wasn’t deliberate, and I know you don’t want—you don’t have to be involved.”
I pulled her onto my lap. “What on earth do you have to be sorry for?”
“I must have messed up my pills or something. I just . . .”
“You’re unhappy?” The thought that she didn’t want this baby, our baby, made my heart twist. She would make an awesome mother.
“I . . . I . . . I’m sorry, but no, I’m not.”
“Why do you keep apologizing? Ashleigh, if—”
“I can do this on my own though, Luke. I don’t expect you to—” She started to cry. I hated to see her so upset.
“Why on earth . . . Don’t you love me? I don’t understand. You’re pregnant; we’re pregnant.”
“I know that it’s not what you want. I didn’t try and trap you, I can’t have you think that, but I can’t get rid of this baby.”
“Get rid? What the—” I got to my feet, pulled Ashleigh into my arms and carried her back into our bedroom. “You’re making no sense. Why would I think you tried to trap me?”
“Because you don’t want to get married and—”