He’d pushed her buttons—the same ones he had manipulated when they were married, subtly disparaging her work and her passion for reading. For one quick moment, Darcy felt anger shoot up in her chest, and she almost let it take her over. But she breathed deeply, sat back on the sofa, and let her anger evaporate.
“That wouldn’t be the worst thing you could do,” she replied gently, as if she were wise and he was a bit of an idiot.
Boyz patted his chest, smoothing a nonexistent tie, always a sign he’d been rattled. His voice was almost angry when he spoke. “I didn’t come here to argue.”
Darcy shrugged and said nothing. She was a librarian after all, and she had learned the power of silence. And it was a lovely feeling, that moment when at last she kept silent and didn’t rise to his bait, didn’t blurt automatically, I wasn’t arguing!, which would be arguing.
Finally, Boyz conceded gracefully. “Yes. Sorry. I’m getting off topic.”
This was fun, Darcy thought, not speaking. This was having a bit of control. So she said nothing.
“You’re making this hard for me, Darcy,” Boyz said.
Darcy laughed out loud. “Boyz, why are you here?”
“Because we—Autumn and I—were hoping you could continue to be part of Willow’s life after we leave the island.”
Darcy blinked. She was truly shocked by his words. “Boyz, I would like that very much. But what can I do? I suppose I could invite her down here on weekends, especially the long weekends like Columbus Day, for the Cranberry Festival….” She cocked her head, envisioning the coming months.
Boyz leaned forward, his face alight. “Yes, of course, but we were thinking of more than that. We’d like to offer you an apartment in Boston, right in Back Bay. You could use it whenever you wanted, and you could take Willow to plays and galleries and for tea at the Ritz, whatever.”
Something was wrong here. It brought a sour taste to her mouth, as if she’d eaten something rotten. Darcy was suspicious. “Boyz, all that isn’t for me to do. That’s what Autumn and you should do, or Willow could go with her friends. Especially Willow could go with her girlfriends.”
Darcy was only slightly surprised when Boyz rose from his chair, came around the coffee table, and lowered himself so close to Darcy, their legs touched.
She drew her legs away, to the side.
Boyz turned toward Darcy. Reaching out, he took both her hands in his. “Darcy—”
Darcy pulled away. “Come on, Boyz, don’t do this. It’s not worthy of you.”
“But just think,” Boyz implored. “Think of what you and I could do. We could have a little love nest—”
“You’ve got to be kidding!” Darcy tried to rise, but Boyz held her hands tightly.
“Tell me you don’t still feel attracted to me.”
“I don’t feel the slightest bit attracted to you.” Darcy shot off the words like bullets.
Boyz smiled patronizingly. He nodded his head toward the coffee table. “Wine for one? All those clever little bites for one? Very brave of you, Darcy, not to give into the sadness of being single and simply eat takeout or a container of ice cream.”
Darcy jerked her hands away. “Boyz, you’re giving me whiplash here. I thought you were concerned about Willow—”
“I am! Of course I am. But, gorgeous girl, when I see you, I can’t help wanting to hold you in my arms again—”
Boyz lunged forward to embrace Darcy, to pull her to him. He lowered his mouth in a clumsy attempt to kiss her. Darcy squirmed, put both hands on his chest, and pushed him away. Her blood heated, and she knew her face was flushed. How had she ever loved this shallow excuse for a person? And what in the world had she done this summer to make him believe she wanted to have sex with him? She struggled free. She stood up.
“Boyz, you need to go. Now.” She moved toward the door.
Boyz cast a desperate look at Darcy. Then he folded over, his arms tight against his stomach, as if he’d been stabbed.
Darcy made a face. “Oh, for God’s sake, Boyz, this is over the top.”
Boyz dramatically lowered his head, catching his breath. He stood. “Just let me…I won’t….” He walked toward Darcy. He put his hands on her shoulders and positioned himself to look her directly in the eye. “Darcy. Autumn is pregnant.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful, Boyz! Congratulations!” Darcy attempted to step away, but Boyz held on tight. Like a drowning man holding to a lifesaver.
“She just found out.” The light went out of Boyz’s eyes. “I mean, just today. They can do that now, you know. They’ve invented kits so you can find out if you’re pregnant when you’re only barely pregnant. I mean, Autumn’s missed one period. That’s all, one. She is absolutely like clockwork with her period, twenty-eight days almost to the hour, boom, here’s her period. She missed her period, and she bought a test at the pharmacy and she took it.”
“Okay,” Darcy said slowly.
“She’s pregnant.”
“Okay,” Darcy said again. “I don’t see the problem, Boyz. You always wanted children. You’re the heir, the future patriarch of the Szweda family.”
Boyz released Darcy. He turned away. With his back to her, Boyz muttered, “The child can’t be mine.” He sounded as if he were about to cry.
The name popped right into her mind. Otto Brueckner.
“Oh, Boyz,” she said, restraining herself from going to him. “What a ridiculous thought.”
“No. Not ridiculous at all. I had myself tested this spring. I have something called idiopathic oligospermia. It means I don’t have a huge concentration of sperm in my semen. I mean, I’ve got some, but not the million like I should have.”
“Oh, Boyz, I’m so sorry,” Darcy said, and she truly was. “Is there a cure?”
He shook his gorgeous silver-blond head. “I’m taking vitamin C and zinc and eating a high-protein diet. I was planning to try some serious drugs, but Autumn’s already pregnant and the chances are low that I’m the father…” He was on the point of tears. “And Darcy, you never got pregnant when we were married.”
He didn’t need to say it: Autumn was probably pregnant with another man’s baby. Boyz turned to face her. Tears shimmered in his eyes.
Darcy’s thoughts raced. What responsibility did she have here?
Maybe her responsibility was simple: She could tell the truth.
“Boyz, I have a confession to make. It’s important.”
“Tell me.”
“When we were married, all the time we were married, I was on the birth control pill.”
Boyz stared at her, blank faced.
“I mean, I never stopped taking the pill. I didn’t get pregnant because I took that pill every day.”
Boyz lifted his head. His face cleared. “So if you didn’t get pregnant because you were on the pill, then maybe I do have enough sperm to make Autumn’s baby.” He rubbed his forehead, looking thoughtful. “The doctor said I have some sperm…so this baby could be mine?”
“I don’t know that. I can’t say that. All I can do is tell you the truth about why I didn’t get pregnant.”