“Oh, no. I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay, Abi. It’s just a mug.”
But her eyes seemed to be gleaming. She crouched down and started to pick up the larger pieces, then squeaked in pain. He glanced down to see blood dribbling down her hand.
“Here, Abi, let me see.”
He drew her up and carefully took the large chunk of broken mug from her other hand. He guided her around the broken ceramic shards and put her hand under the water. The water ran red, then pink and finally went clear.
The cut wasn’t too bad. He turned off the water and pressed a hand towel against the wound.
“You’re okay, baby. I’ll get a bandage.”
But when he glanced at her face, he realized tears were welling from her eyes.
“Abi?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to break the mug. I’m such a klutz.” She stared at the towel against her hand. “And now I’ve gotten blood on your towel.”
He glanced down to see a small red stain had formed on the white towel.
“It’s okay. I don’t care about the towel. Or the mug.”
But tears now streamed freely down her cheeks.
“Abi, this isn’t like you. Tell me what’s wrong.”
She shook her head, wiping her eyes. “Nothing. I’m sorry. I’m just feeling a little emotional today.”
He frowned, staring at her. A little emotional?
Abi never cried about trivial things like this. Except when she was pregnant. In the first trimester, she used to cry at the drop of a hat. He remembered how she’d hated being so emotional.
He remembered her turning down the lasagna last night and her favorite wine. Then the decaf tea rather than coffee. And she seemed to be avoiding the hot tub.
And … last night she’d asked him what-ifs about her being pregnant again. He’d thought it was odd she’d choose a scenario that would never happen, but he’d assumed it was because she’d needed to think about that situation so she could exorcise some of the intense emotions around what had happened.
Now he was beginning to wonder if …
His chest constricted.
“Fuck, Abi. You’re pregnant, aren’t you?”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Abi’s gaze jerked to Liam in shock. He frowned, the expression on her face clearly giving him his answer.
“Fuck. When were you going to tell me?” he demanded.
She couldn’t hide the guilt from her face and his frown deepened.
“Or weren’t you going to tell me at all?”
“Oh, Liam, of course I was.”
His eyes narrowed, his gaze boring through her. His teeth gritted and his hands balled into fists. He strode out of the kitchen. She followed him, stepping around the broken ceramic shards still on the floor.
He was pacing around the living room, steam practically shooting out his ears.
“So Del got you pregnant. No wonder he asked you to marry him.”
Her stomach tightened. She should tell him that Del wasn’t the father, despite the fact it would be so convenient to let him believe it.
And she wanted to tell him Del proposed simply because he was in love with her. But the pregnancy had been the trigger, so she wouldn’t go there.
“Fuck. You’re still bleeding.”
Liam grabbed her wrist and led her to the bathroom down the hall. He pulled out a first-aid kit and swabbed antiseptic on her wound, then applied a bandage. He strode from the bathroom.
“Go sit down in the living room and I’ll clean up the broken mug,” he said as she followed him down the hall.
She sat in one of the armchairs, listening to the clinking in the kitchen as he swept up the pieces and tossed them in the garbage.
* * *
Liam stared at the shards of ceramic lying in the garbage. Like the shattered remnants of his marriage.
His heart pounded. He loved Abi so much and … God, he should be happy for her that she was able to conceive after being told it would never happen … but all he could feel was the pain of losing her all over again.
Because how could he keep her from marrying Del now that she carried his child? He could never do that. He couldn’t keep a father from being with his son or daughter. The three of them should be together as a family.
He put away the broom and walked back to the living room, his feet leaden. He sat down across from Abi, knowing he had to sign the divorce papers so she could marry Del.
It was the right thing to do.
“Liam, there’s something you don’t understand.”
“Really? And what’s that?” What new bombshell would she throw at him now?
She stared at her entwined fingers.
“The baby … it’s not Del’s.”
“It’s not?”
She lifted her gaze, her eyes glittering with anguish.
For the first time, his thoughts shifted to a possibility that he barely dared to consider. Hope flickered in him.
“It’s yours,” she said.
He froze, his breath caught in his lungs.
Then his heart exploded with joy. This was everything he’d ever wanted. He was going to be a father after all. He was going to be part of a happy, loving family.
Abi was carrying his child.
* * *
Abi watched the changing emotions wash across Liam’s face. From despair, to awe, to full-blown joy.
“Liam, nothing’s changed. I still want the divorce.”
His gaze jerked to hers. The sparkle in his eyes dimmed.
“But everything’s changed. I’m the baby’s father. The three of us should be together.”
“I’m sorry, Liam. But I love Del. I want to marry Del. We’ll figure something out so you can be part of the baby’s life, too, but—”
“I don’t want to just be a part of it sometimes. I want to be there all the time. Every day. Not some part-time father on the sidelines.” He put on his stubborn face. “Abi, we’re married. You’re carrying my baby. You’ll move back in with me so we can be together. I’ll take care of you and ensure you get the best care so this baby is safe.”
She locked gazes with him.
“No. That’s not going to happen,” she
