Christine Rimmer - Valentine's Secret Child

“I was, um, pregnant.”

He went absolutely still for a second or two—and then he moved, but only to pull his hands free of her hold. “What did you say?”

She prayed for the sidewalk to open under her feet, to just swallow her whole. “Oh, please, Mitch. Don’t look at me like that.”

He shook his head. “Pregnant? But you never said—”

“No, I didn’t. Because I didn’t know then. I didn’t miss a period for two weeks after I left for Fresno with Tanner. And then it took me another few weeks to face the possibility, to admit what might be happening to me. When I finally took the home test, six weeks had gone by since we split up.”

“All right.” Now his voice was flat, devoid of expression. His eyes were shuttered—against her. “So. What happened then?”

“I tried to find you….”

“And you didn’t. Got that. And then?”

“I…” She bumbled on, making a complete hash of it. “Seven months later, I had a baby.”

He flinched as if she’d struck him. “No.”

“Yes. I had a baby. Your baby. I had a little girl.”

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