Page 8 of Pregnancy Clause in Their Paper Marriage
He gave a rather terse nod, his jaw still tight. ‘Apology accepted.’
She’d made a mess of things, Lana realised, and she hadn’t even got what she wanted out of it. A sigh escaped her before she forced herself to rally. To be practical, because that was what she did. There was still a solution to be found here, and that was what she had to focus on. ‘Well, if I did go the sperm donor route,’ she asked him, ‘how would you feel about that? Assuming we remain married, people will no doubt think the baby is yours.’
‘They’d have thought that when you were proposing this babywouldbe mine,’ Christos pointed out. ‘And you still didn’t want me involved.’
‘It wasn’t a question of want—’
‘Wasn’t it?’ he interjected, and now he sounded unexpectedly weary. ‘Trust me, Lana, I think I know you pretty well, after three years. You like to be in charge, calling all the shots.’
‘Doesn’t everyone?’ she returned, her tone turning defensive. He talked about it as if it were a bad thing, but who didn’t want to be in control of their own life? She knew what it was likenotto be in control, to let other people call the shots. Of course she was glad she had more agency now.
‘The thing with a baby,’ he told her, leaning forward a little, ‘is it usually involves two parents. Two people calling the shots. Making compromises, working together.’
Briefly she thought of her mother, the bitterness etched on her face for ever, the father who had walked out when she was just six months old, without a single backward glance, never in contact again. ‘Not always,’ she told Christos quietly.
He knew she’d been raised by a single mother; back when they’d first hammered out the details of their marriage, they’d given each other potted histories of their childhoods. She’d told him how her dad had abandoned her and her mother; he’d disclosed that his mother had died when he was sixteen. Neither of them had either asked for or given further details, and Lana had always supposed the lack of knowledge, of understanding, suited them both fine, although admittedly sometimes she had wondered, wanted to know more.
Now he acknowledged her point with a nod. ‘But I’m sure you can agree,’ he continued smoothly, ‘that it’s generally better for a child to be raised by two loving parents.’
‘If it’s possible,’ Lana replied, feeling hesitant even though she did technically agree with what he was saying. She had the feeling she was about to be bounced into something, and she wasn’t sure what it was. Christos’s expression had turned intent, a small, knowing smile flirting with his lips. If only she knew what he was thinking, but the truth was, she didn’t. Despite three years of marriage, shedidn’tknow him pretty well. That, it seemed, was where they differed.
‘So, when it is possible, it’s the ideal?’ he surmised, eyebrows raised, attitude expectant. ‘The thing to aim for, the gold standard?’
She gave a little shrug, a bit impatient now, edgy, wanting him simply to spit out whatever it was he had to say. ‘Yes, the ideal, the ultimate, the paragon, theepitomeof happy families,’ she replied, rolling her eyes again. ‘Yes, fine. What of it?’
‘Then why would you mess around with a sperm donor and IVF and all that rigmarole,’ Christos returned, ‘when you have the ideal, the ultimate, the paragon, theepitome, sitting right here?’
She blinked at him. Blinked again. What, exactly, was he trying to say?
‘Me, Lana,’ he explained, and now she heard the humour in his voice again, and she felt as if something in her had settled, righted. This was the man she knew. Trusted. Liked.
‘You.’ She raised her eyebrows, smiled a little. She wasn’t flirting, absolutely not, but...she liked having him back the way he normally was—funny, wry, affectionate, unthreatening. It made something spark inside her, turn fizzy...although she still hadn’t completely cottoned on to what he was suggesting.
‘Yes. Me,’ he reiterated. ‘And you. Having a baby—and a family—the old-fashioned way.’
It genuinely hadn’t crossed her mind. Christos could see that right off. The way her eyes widened with shock and her expression turned dazed, her lips parting slightly as she simply stared at him.
‘You aren’t serious,’ she finally said, her voice little more than a whisper.
Christos would have been offended, except he knew Lana too well for that. Attraction wasn’t the problem here. He’d always felt it from her, like a live wire they had both made sure never to touch. Lana might not yet have admitted it to herself, but it was there. He wasn’t wrong about that.
As for him...well, that definitely wasn’t a problem, either. It never had been. Even when he’d agreed to the no-sex rule, he’d known he was attracted to her. He’d even wondered if one day Lana might change her mind, and he’d known, right from the beginning, that he would always be amenable...as well as patient. But now?
‘I am absolutely serious,’ he told her. ‘We’re married. You want a baby. It turns out I might, too, somewhat to my surprise, it’s true. Why wouldn’t we do it the way people have been doing it for millennia?’
‘Because...’ She shook her head, her eyes flashing with both humour and ire. ‘That is far more complicated than what I was suggesting!’
‘Is it?’ he challenged levelly. ‘Really? When Junior asks where Daddy is, you didn’t think that was going to be a little complicated? Or when everyone assumes he or she is my baby, and they’reright, but somehow you haven’t mentioned it to the person to whom it matters most, our baby? Lana, that’s thedefinitionof complicated.’
A blush touched her cheeks again, and she looked down, a strand of strawberry-blonde hair falling against her cheek. ‘All right, I may not have thoughteveryimplication through,’ she admitted. ‘But getting that...involved...feels complicated to me. Very complicated.’
He studied her for a moment. ‘Surely sex is preferable to the IVF route, with all the injections of hormones, the emotional upheaval, the palaver, the uncertainty. From what I’ve heard about it, and admittedly that’s not that much, it sounds pretty difficult.’
Her blush deepened and she kept looking at her lap. In three years, he’d never mentioned the S-word to her. She’d taken it so definitively off the table in their original discussion, and with her reasons being about men forever trying to take advantage of her, he’d felt strongly that he needed to show her he wasn’t the same.
And so, for three years his gaze had never strayed below her admittedly lovely face. He’d never made a single suggestive remark. Never touched her except on her arm or occasionally put his own around her shoulders, when they were in company, simply as a gesture of togetherness, solidarity. They’d never even kissed, in all this time, and yet he had no doubts she was attracted to him. Just as he was to her. He felt it like a current in the air, a spark leaping between them, and one he looked forward to fanning into flame.
‘Maybe it would be less complicated in the moment,’ she finally replied, and it took him a second to recall what she was talking about—sex. Specifically, them having it. ‘But in the long term... I don’t know.’