“It’s too late.”
He moved into her and her fingers gripped his shirt, clutching him as if she were drowning.
Chapter Sixty-nine
That night the Emersons had difficulty sleeping. Julia was plagued by fear and guilt—fear about what would happen to her academic aspirations and guilt at placing such a high priority on them. Gabriel was conflicted. On the one hand, he was ecstatic that they were expecting a child. But Julianne’s concern and evident distress prevented him from displaying his true feelings. He, too, was mired in guilt for not having protected her.
Of course, neither one of them expected that the vasectomy reversal would be successful so soon, if at all.
While everyone else in Richard’s household spent the day in leisurely community, Julia stayed in bed. She was exhausted. Certainly, she wasn’t prepared to face Rachel and Aaron, even though she and Gabriel had agreed that they would wait until the three-month mark to announce their pregnancy.
Gabriel spent the day trying to pretend that he hadn’t received what was potentially the best news of his life. He resolved to give Julianne the time and space she seemed to need to come to grips with what was, for her, a startling disappointment.
Late that evening, she was curved into a ball, lying on her side in the large bed. Everyone else in the house was fast asleep. Everyone except her husband.
Gabriel was spooned behind her, his arm wrapped loosely about her waist. She’d slept most of the day, so of course she wasn’t tired now. Even though he skirted the edge of exhaustion, his concern for her prevented him from resting.
Her deepest fear had been realized. She was pregnant and only midway through her second year of a seven-year doctoral program.
She sniffled at the thought.
Instinctively, Gabriel drew her closer to him, his hand splaying across her lower abdomen.
For a few moments, he allowed himself the luxury of wondering what his life would have been like if Maia had been born. He’d barely had time for Paulina when she was pregnant. He doubted his attitude would have changed when she had the baby.
His stomach rolled. He could see himself hurling expletives at her to keep the baby quiet as Maia cried, disrupting his writing. Paulina would have had to bear the burden of parenthood alone. He wouldn’t have taken the time to feed the baby, or rock her to sleep, or, God forbid, change a diaper. He’d been a self-centered, drug-using bastard back then. It would have been negligence on Paulina’s part to leave Maia in his care.
He would have moved out, leaving Paulina to cope with Maia by herself. Oh, he might have given her money. But his addiction would have eaten all his funds until it eventually killed him. Then Paulina and Maia would have been alone.
Even if he’d gone into treatment and miraculously made it through, he still couldn’t imagine being an active, involved father. No. The old professor would have been too busy writing books and trying to further his career. He would have sent birthday cards and money, or, more probably, had his secretary or maybe one of the many women in his life send them for him.
In short, he would have been like his father, fighting with Paulina on the telephone over his lack of involvement until he finally tired of the conflict and ceased contact altogether. His vision of what his life would have been like was very clear.
He grounded himself by tightening his hold on Julianne. He was no longer the old professor; he was a new man. He resolved with everything that was in him to be the best, most active, attentive husband and father he could be.
The first thing he needed to do was to comfort his wife. Then he needed to take steps to ensure that she didn’t lose everything she’d worked for since she was in high school.
He opened his mouth to begin whispering to her, but Julia extricated herself, tossing the blankets aside and moving toward the closet. He heard her switch on the light and start rummaging through some clothes.
Gabriel followed. By the time he made it to the closet, she’d pulled on a pair of jeans and one of his old cashmere sweaters and was searching for socks.
“What are you doing?”
“I can’t sleep.” She didn’t look at him as she leaned over to put on a pair of his argyle socks.
“Where are you going?”
“I thought I might go for a drive. Clear my head.”
“Then I’m going with you.” He reached over to pull a shirt off a hanger.
She closed her eyes. “Gabriel, I need time to think.”
He lifted a pair of jeans and a sweater from one of the shelves.
“Remember what I said in New York?”
“You said a lot of things in New York.”
“I said that being apart was a bad idea. You agreed with me. We’re partners, remember?”
She kicked at the hardwood beneath her argyle socks. “I remember.”
“Don’t shut me out.” His tone was almost pleading.
“I have no idea what to say to you. This is my darkest nightmare come true!”