In the next minute, her heart would ache so badly she could barely breathe, and she’d be just as certain that keeping the truth from Michael was exactly the worst thing she could possibly do. There were already some trust issues between them - all her fault of course - even though at the time she’d thought she was doing the right thing. He wouldn’t be happy to learn that she’d kept this from him, no matter what the outcome.
And she was feeling so close to the edge right now – Lexi said it was hormones – that she simply could not bear it if he was angry with her. What if he decided that he’d had enough? That he didn’t want to have to worry about whether or not she was keeping something from him?
The waiter came by with a bottle of wine. Maggie politely placed her hand over the top of her glass as he poured some for Michael. “No, thank you,” she said with a little smile.
“Are you sure, Maggie? Perhaps a little wine will help you relax.”
“I’m fine.”
“Would you like a mixed drink instead?” He lifted his hand as if to call the waiter back.
“No, no, I’m good, thanks.”
“Iced tea, then?”
“Um, no. Maybe just some water.”
“With lemon?”
“Yes, please.”
*
He wondered again why he had not seen it before, when now everything seemed to jump out at him. No alcohol. No caffeine. Maggie had even refused the coffee she loved so much, saying that she was too jittery, even though most of the time she looked as if she could fall asleep right where she stood. Only dry toast for breakfast – she blamed it on the lingering headaches that still plagued her but were easing. He hadn’t hounded her about it because she was eating heartily later in the day.
“You’re awfully quiet tonight,” Michael said as the remains of their meal were cleared away. For the entire evening Maggie had been distracted, her mind a million miles away. Several times he’d caught her staring at him, looking like she was about to say something, then her lashes would drop down and he knew that once again, she’d been unable to speak the words.
Maggie had yet to tell him he was going to be a father. He could sense the undercurrent of anticipation, though, and knew she wanted to tell him. He was giving her every opportunity, but so far, no admission. Her eyes were doing that swirling thing again, almost constantly now. There was so much going on in that stubborn, proud mind of hers. When would she learn to open up to him? To believe that she did not have to handle everything on her own?
She loved him, he had no doubts about that. He saw it in her eyes every time she looked at him, felt it in her touch. His brothers told him of how fiercely she had guarded him in the hospital, how she had threatened anyone – without regard to size or gender - who dared approach him. The thought made him smile.
Yes, she was strong and capable and smart and funny. She loved him more than he ever thought possible. It was what scared him most, because he knew she would protect him, and their child, without a thought to herself. It made his own protective instincts all that much stronger, because he knew that he would do the same.
Even as he worried for Maggie, though, he could barely contain the primal elation at the knowledge he now had. It was hard to keep the joy he was feeling concealed, even if he was unhappy that she had gone through all of those tests without him. He should have been there, damn it. Nothing could have kept him from her side every moment, had he known.
But the irritation he’d felt at her silence drained away rapidly as he mentally scanned the myriad of tests she’d gone through. Some relatively innocuous, others brutally invasive. He hated the thought of her having to face that fear on her own, of having to face those tests. It would have been bad enough for any woman under any circumstances, but this was his woman – a woman terrified of medical procedures in general. God, he thought once again, she must have been beside herself.
As it was, he’d had to use every last bit of self-restraint he had not to say something, to admit that he knew of the pregnancy. All but one or two of the tests had come back negative for any indications of a problem, a hopeful sign that all was well. He thought she might have said something upon her return, dropped some hint at least, but she hadn’t. Was she waiting until the last results were in to tell him?
During those several intimate hours they had spent together upon her return he found it nearly impossible to keep his hands from her abdomen and that slight natural curve that cradled his son. To break his mouth away from the fuller, more rounded breasts that had already begun preparing for their child. Just knowing his child was growing inside of her had him nearly insane with the visceral need to protect and possess with everything he had, no matter what the tests revealed. But how could he make her see that? He thought he might have an idea.
“Maggie, I’ve been thinking,” he said slowly. She hadn’t responded to his previous comment, once again lost in her own thoughts. This time, however, his quiet, serious tone captured her attention immediately.
*