Page 32 of Pregnancy Clause in Their Paper Marriage

‘Christos, please. Come home. I need you.’

He pictured his sister’s tearstained face on the screen of his laptop, and how he’d ended the call, unable to cope with her grief, her need. What kind of unfeeling monster was he? And when he thought of what had happened next... Kristina’s taut voice on the call, the news that his baby sister was being rushed to the hospital... Christos never wanted to feel that utter hollowing out of his insides, the realisation of just how terribly he had failed someone he loved. His sister had forgiven him; at least she’d said she had. But he’d never forgiven himself.

But he’d do better now, he promised himself. He would. And if Lanawaspregnant...

His heart flipped over, although whether in hope or sheer terror Christos wasn’t quite sure. He really should have thought all this through a lot more, except...

He knew he wouldn’t have changed a thing.

The last two weeks had really been that amazing—and not just the nights, which certainly had been mind-blowing and heaven-sent. But the days too, the little moments. When he woke up and Lana was still snuggled in his arms, soft and warm. When he was working and a sudden text popped up, with a funny gif or link from her, making him smile because her sense of humour, although hidden, rivalled his own. When she plopped her feet in his lap with a knowing, shamefaced grin, and he laughingly started to rub her feet.

There was so much he was enjoying about this marriage, and a baby would only make it better. Right?

The door to the bathroom opened, and Christos whirled around. He realised he didn’t actually know what he wanted the test result to be—a baby would be great, yes, but having more time together first would be good, too. And he wasn’t sure how Lana would feel about it, either. This had all happened so fast, after all; a month ago she hadn’t even known she’d been in menopause. She hadn’t even thought she’d wanted a baby.

If she wasn’t pregnant, maybe it would be better for them both. Give them a little time to think, to breathe, to be...

‘Christos?’ Her voice was soft, tentative. She held the test stick in her hand, but he couldn’t see its little window—one line or two?

‘Did you find out?’ Of course she had, but he couldn’t tell based on her expression. She looked uncertain, a little afraid, maybe hopeful...

‘Is it...?’

‘Positive.’ She showed him the stick and he saw two pale pink lines. ‘I’m pregnant.’

CHAPTER ELEVEN

‘IDON’TKNOWabout this.’

‘It looks great, trust me.’ Lana gave Jack Philips a breezily reassuring smile as he dubiously regarded his reflection in the full-length mirror in one of her office’s conference rooms. He was trying on different suits for the feature interview she’d bagged him with a major lifestyle magazine. It was a coup for him as well as her, and now he just needed to present the right image—confident, purposeful, assured. The streamlined suit of royal-blue silk was perfect, even if Jack was having his doubts. The glossy image she’d prepared for him was, Lana knew, hard for a fairly shy, geeky guy to step into, but she was confident he could do it...with her help.

Hadn’t she done the same thing for herself, when she was just twenty-one, on her own, dirt poor and desperate, on a mission to turn herself into someone glossy and polished and assured? After Anthony had finished with her two years later, she’d been determined to turn herself into the kind of woman who couldn’t be hurt, who would stride the world and crush men beneath her heel. She’d wanted to be glossy and hard, distant and strong, and she’d done it. She’d changed herself, at least on the outside if not the inside, because you never could fully escape your past. Still, with the outside she’d succeeded, in spades. So could Jack Philips.

‘So,’ she asked, her hands on her hips, her eyebrows raised in expectation as she smiled at him. ‘What do you think? Does it work?’

‘If you say so,’ he finally said with a smile. ‘Although this isn’t something I would normally ever wear.’

‘I know.’ If he’d been in charge, he’d have shown up to a very important interview in a ragged T-shirt and dirty jeans. But that was why he—and countless others—hired her. To perfect their image, tocreateit, just as she’d done for herself.

Once, that had given Lana a huge sense of satisfaction, of meaning. She knew full well how the longing to be someone different could take over your life, your heart. Only lately, she felt a flicker of—not unease, no, not quite that, butsomething. She was beginning to wonder if she really wanted to change people into something else. If life was really all about the image.

These doubts had started worrying at her ever since Christos had come into her life, her bed, and especially since she’d found out she was pregnant just over a month ago. She’d gone into both those things assuming they wouldn’t change who she was, how she acted, what she believed—and yet she was realising more and more how wrong-headed that was. How wrong-hearted. Of course such monumental things would change her. They would have to.

But as for Jack...all they were talking about was a suit.

‘So, you’re definitely happy with it?’ she confirmed, and he nodded, not looking entirely happy but she was pretty sure he could be convinced. The interview wasn’t for a few weeks, after all.

After finishing their meeting, Lana went back to her own office, grateful for the mug of ginger tea Michelle had left on her desk. Michelle was the only person besides Christos whom she’d told about her pregnancy; it had been hard to hide, anyway, when the morning sickness had started ten days ago. Michelle had been understanding, not batting an eyelid when Lana had to rapidly excuse herself from a meeting or had a fifteen-minute catnap at her desk.

Christos had been understanding too, and so very sweet. He was always bringing home little treats—saltine crackers from her childhood after she’d mentioned a craving; comfy socks; bubble bath. Anything to make her adjustment to pregnancy easier.

She couldn’t fault him at all, Lana thought, and yet...

And yet.

That flicker of unease she’d been doing her best to ignore burned a little higher inside her. It had started when she’d first told Christos she was pregnant. She’d seen how shocked he’d looked, and that hadn’t bothered her, because, heaven knew, she’d been shocked herself. She didn’t think either of them had been prepared for how quickly she’d become pregnant, especially considering her condition.

He’d hugged her then, and kissed her, and she would have thought everything was absolutely fine, except for the invisible, paper-thin wall that had gone up between them. Lana could not point to a single thing or even a single moment when she’d seen and recognised that wall. She had no evidence, no reason,and yet. And yet. She knew it was there. Shefeltit.