oving Dad and all.”
His lips press into a hard line, but he says nothing. I gaze out the window.
Tell him! My subconscious hisses. No. I am a coward. Christian interrupts
my reverie. “I may ha一ve to go to Taiwan.”
“Oh. When?”
“Later this week. Maybe next week.”
“Okay.”
“I want you to come with me.”
I swallow. “Christian, please. I ha一ve my job. Let’s not rehash this argument
again.”
He sighs and pouts like a sulky teenager. “Thought I’d ask,” he mutters
petulantly.
“How long will you go for?”
“Not more than a couple of days. I wish you’d tell me what’s bothering you.”
How can he tell? “Well, now that my beloved husband is going away . . .”
Christian kisses my knuckles. “I won’t be away for long.”
“Good.” I smile weakly at him.
Ray is much brighter and a lot less grumpy when we see him. I’m touched by
his quiet gratitude to Christian, and for a moment I forget about my
impending news as I sit and listen to them talk fishing and the Mariners. But
he tires easily.
“Daddy, we’ll lea一ve you to sleep.”
“Thanks, Ana honey. I like that you drop by. Saw your mom today, 386 | P a g
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too, Christian. She was very reassuring. And she’s a Mariners fan.”
“She’s not crazy about fishing, though,” Christian says wryly as he rises.
“Don’t know many women who are, eh?” Ray grins.
“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” I lean over and kiss him. My subconscious
purses her lips. That’s provided Christian hasn’t locked you away . . . or
worse. My spirits take a nosepe.
“Come.” Christian holds out his hand, frowning at me. I take it and we lea一ve
the hospital.
I pick at my food. It’s Mrs. Jones’s chicken chasseur, but I’m just not hungry.
My stomach is knotted in a tight ball of anxiety.
“Damn it! Ana, will you tell me what’s wrong?” Christian pushes his empty
plate away, irritated. I gaze at him. “Please. You’re driving me crazy.”
I swallow and try to subdue the panic rising in my throat. I take a deep
steadying breath. It’s now or never. “I’m pregnant.”
He stills, and very slowly all t
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