Tessa Radley - Expecting His Child - The Pregnancy Plot / Staking His Claim / A Tricky Proposition

After fixing herself a cup of Earl Grey, she dragged the blanket off the couch arm, wrapped it around her shoulders, then padded to the patio doors. With a whoosh and blast of cold air, she walked out onto the balcony, settled in a comfy chair and began.

* * *

AJ formed a routine of sorts for the next few days —she rose at eight, swam a few laps in the heated rooftop pool and lifted weights for half an hour in the fourth-floor gym. Then she had breakfast, followed by sketching, and lunch from one of the many restaurants that occupied the ground floor. After lunch she went walking, undeterred by the weather’s sudden return to midwinter temperatures. She made her way down William Street, poking around in the funky boutiques and secondhand stores, admiring the baubles and handmade clothing, then crossing over Crown Street and heading toward Hyde Park. Turning right on College Street, she headed east, toward the New South Wales Art Gallery.

She spent all afternoon soaking up the rest of the amazing art and doing a few sketches before heading back, only detouring for her usual Starbucks grande latte and a chicken sub.

On Tuesday night, Matt called.

“So what have you been doing the past few days?” Just hearing that low, cultured voice in her ear was enough to make her body quiver.

“Oh, you know, living the life of luxury. Sketching, walking. I missed the Van Gogh exhibit at the art gallery by a day.”

“Bummer.”

“Yeah. He’s one of my favorites.” She started to sharpen a pencil. “When are you back?”

“I fly in late Wednesday night.”

“Okay.” She added the finishing touches to her drawing—a view of the sunset-strewn Queensland hinterland from the seventy-eighth floor of the Q Tower. “Oh, by the way, I’m at Zac’s apartment.”

A small moment of silence passed, way too long to blame on the time delay.

“Why?” Matthew finally said.

She paused and stared out the window, watching a slow-moving ferry glide along Botany Bay. “Because that was my plan, remember? Besides,” she added lightly, “I make a lousy houseguest, leaving my wet towels on the floor and hogging all the bathroom bench space.”

Another too-long silence. “I wouldn’t know. You never stay long enough for me to notice.”

Her breath came out sharp. “Wow. That was a bit harsh.”

She heard him sigh down the phone. “Sorry. Look, it’s been a long trip and I just want to get home. I’ll send a car to pick you up tomorrow and I’ll meet you at Saint Cat’s for our appointment.”

“Matt—”

“I have to go. See you on Thursday.” And he hung up.

She slowly clicked off her phone, head churning. What on earth was that about? Again he’d brought up their past, which meant it must be bothering him more than he cared to admit.

It’s just not working for me, AJ.

Despite the passage of time, that statement still made her wince. He’d made the decision to break up and there was nothing more to be said. So of course, retreat had been her best course of action. She’d simply nodded, risen on unsteady feet and left.

And he’d let her go.

But she needed to stop analyzing this and focus on her appointment. Emily was the deep thinker of their little family; her endless pros and cons list was something AJ ribbed her about all the time.

Sadness bloomed for one second, making her sigh. God, she missed her sister, missed her overwhelming optimism, her unique outlook on life. Her logical advice.

What would she say about this arrangement?

AJ scowled. Eventually she’d have to tell Emily what was going on. That is, if Zac hadn’t already.

At any rate, she had a two-week reprieve to practice before they returned. With that thought, she picked up her abandoned pencil, turned the page and began a new sketch.

* * *

True to Matt’s word, a car arrived at eight-thirty the next morning and took her across the Harbour Bridge to Saint Catherine’s Hospital, set in the exclusive north shore suburb of Kirribilli.

The hospital still looked shiny and new even though it was almost twenty years old. She’d read about the amazing leaps in medicine and research they’d made there throughout those years, along with all the other achievements: best heart surgery team in Australia, a crack cancer research facility. And of course, the addition of a new wing, opened by the Prime Minister herself—the Alicia Cooper Neurosurgical Unit.

Matt met her at the entrance with a smile, and before AJ could steel herself, her heart did a little skip. Then he removed his sunglasses. “Hi, Angel. How’ve you been?”

“Nervous.” It was the truth. She’d been riddled with worry all the way across town, and a lot of it had to do with Matt. Despite all that inner talk, all that “this is just a deal, nothing personal” stuff, she was genuinely elated to see him again. Giddy almost.

“Don’t be,” he said, laying his hand gently on her elbow as they walked to the bank of elevators. “Dr. Adams is the best. Which reminds me, I have to tell you something before we go in.”

“Yes?”

“It’s going to come up in the consult. I had leukemia when I was seven but I’ve been in remission for close to thirty years. Don’t worry,” he added, misinterpreting her shocked expression. “This strain isn’t hereditary.”

“That’s not what I was thinking.” Holy crap. He had cancer? She paused, searching for something, anything, to say. “Are you okay?”

“Never better.”

“Good.” He’s okay. No reason to panic. Then in the next moment she felt a small stab of hurt—why hadn’t he told her this before? Still, her expression must have given her away because he glanced at her and frowned.

“Don’t look at me that way.”

“What way?”

“It’s not a big deal. I don’t need your pity.”

“It’s not pity.”

He said nothing, just reached into his jacket, checked his phone and shoved it back.

It’s okay, AJ. He says he’s clear. She fiddled with her hair, tightening the knot at her nape. Leukemia was serious. Should she ask how—?

“AJ? Are you listening?”

Not when you drop that bomb in my lap, I’m not. But just as she was opening her mouth, he shut her down.

“Look, it’s over, I’m healthy and let’s just move on, shall we?”

He wanted to move on. It’s what she did, right? It’s what she was an expert at. With a sigh, she shifted gears, her mind reluctantly clunking into second as she focused on the long corridor, her loud footsteps as they made their way to the elevators dragging her away from the scary thought of Matthew’s mortality. He’d put his hand on her back, and the contact was reassuring. Almost natural.

Of course, there was nothing natural about this arrangement, but she didn’t want to dwell on that. All her nervous anticipation took a backseat when they were given forms and she had to switch her focus to the barrage of personal questions: about her parents, their parents, Emily, their health, her health, allergies, drug use. A vague feeling of disquiet rose until a door opened and Dr. Adams arrived to take them through to her office.

As the doctor talked, AJ felt herself warming up to the friendly, middle-aged woman sporting a shock of closely cropped white hair and a wonderfully calming disposition. She skimmed both their forms, then went through the list of tests AJ needed, including an ultrasound and laparoscopy. Then she did the same for Matt.

Dr. Adams had just booked AJ in for her tests when Matt’s phone rang. He excused himself and went outside to take it, leaving AJ with the doctor. She didn’t mind, not when she had so many questions. She was only halfway through when Matt walked back in.

“I’m sorry,” he said, his brow dipping. “I have to leave.”