“She’s the redhead, the one I’ve seen you out with a couple of times,” I interrupt him.
“Yeah, yeah, she was a good-looking girl when she was younger. We always worked together coz she didn’t want anything more than a fuck. That’s all it’s ever been; that’s all it ever was for me. Then when she was about twenty-two. It started to become apparent that she wasn’t gonna make it as a model. She went a bit off the rails and I didn’t see her for a few years. Then we bumped into each other about two and a half years ago and we’ve just got together every now and then since, just for a fuck, or if either of us needed a date for an event, we got together, no strings.” He takes a sip of his wine and looks down at his glass, as though he’s thinking about what to say next. “I always thought she was happy with that set up. She never mentioned that she wanted more. She’s a nice enough girl, good looking, nicely turned out, never wanted anything. Then, within about a month of us bumping back into each other, I noticed she was becoming needy, clingy and a bit erratic.” He looks at me and shrugs. “I don’t bring birds back to my place, Georgia. I’m quite a private person. It’s either a hotel or their place, and apart from my wife, you’ve been the only exception to that rule.”
I’m not sure if his statement makes me feel better or worse. I drain my glass and look at him across the top of it. Without saying anymore, he gets up to go and get another bottle from the fridge and tops me up.
“Anyway, I did a bit of digging and found out she had a habit, an expensive habit. I tried to help her out. I’ve been there. I felt sorry for her so I paid off her debts and paid for her rehab.” He shrugs as he seems to be thinking about this. “Again, I didn’t hear from her, except the odd phone call or text for a couple of months once she’d straightened herself out, then she turned up at my club opening in Ibiza in August. We went to a hotel and fucked, and next thing I hear from her is that she’s pregnant and the baby’s mine. It was also apparent that she was well and truly off the wagon. I didn’t know what to do at first. I didn’t believe her, about the baby I mean, so I went with her to the doctors and then for a scan and all the dates match up, so like I said, I got her on a program. They seemed to think she’d been taking worse shit than coke, probably heroin, but they straightened her out and everything seems to be okay with the baby, but we won’t know for sure until he’s born.”
My head fly’s up at that news. “A boy, you’re having a son?” I hate her. This woman I don’t know, who’s gonna have something I never will, something she doesn’t deserve.
“I don’t know that I’m having anything yet, George. There’s ways of testing from inside the womb, but she’s all over the place so I don’t wanna rock the boat. She’s unstable enough as it is. So anyway, I’m paying for a flat and a nurse, a minder. I buy her shopping and pay her medical bills so she can afford to see the best doctors.” He shrugs. “If the baby’s not mine, then I’ll make sure the right people get involved to make sure the kid’s safe, but that’ll be it. If the kid’s mine,” he pauses and shrugs again, “I haven’t got a Scooby what I’ll do. No idea, but he’ll be with me. One way or the other, I’ll find a way to have the baby with me, and you need to know that. You need to understand that. If the baby turns out to be mine, I will fight for custody of him.”
I give him a small smile. “I wouldn’t expect anything less from you, Cam.” I take a sip of wine, hating the jealousy I’m feeling.
“If this works, George, if me and you make this work, we’ll have our own. If this baby is mine, it won’t stop us having our own.”
My breath catches. Oh, God, he doesn’t know. I’m not sure what the sound is that I make. I sob but my lips sort of roll. I suppose it’s what you could call blubbering and he moves so quick and pulls me into his lap and holds me.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry, Kitten. This must be so hard for you after everything you’ve been through. Fuck, Kitten, I wish it was your belly my baby was growing in.”
I shake my head, but I can’t get any words out. I gasp in air as I try to control the sobs, but all he can see is me shaking my head and I don’t want him thinking that I’m saying no to that idea. I’m panicking and it’s making it harder to breathe. My chest hurts so much as I force out the words.
“I can’t, Cam. I can’t.” I look up at him. “I can’t have kids. The accident, they took it; they took everything away. It’s the only way they could stop me from bleeding.” He stares at me silently, his eyes wide as he processes what I’m saying to him.
“No, oh, fuck no, Kitten.” His face is an image of pure pain as he shakes his head and his eyes fill with tears. “I didn’t know,” he whispers.
“Hysterectomy,” is all I manage to choke out.
“Fuck, Kitten, fuck, fuck, fuck.” For the next half hour, he holds me while I cry. Once again, Cam holds me while I fall apart.