I sit in the front of the boat, sparing me from having to look at my companions. The sea spray on my face gives me the freedom to finally let a few tears slip.
I can’t believe Chase, the man who was so kind to me in Iowa and with whom I felt such an instant connection, is treating me this badly. What reason could I possibly have for lying to him about my baby being his? Could he really believe that I’m just after his money? The very idea of that makes me feel sick inside. I would never do something like that. I’m beginning to wish I had never come here, never told him about the baby. I want my child to have a father in his or her life, of course, but not if things are going to be like this.
We reach the island, and Amir hops overboard and hauls the boat ashore. Chase jumps out to help him move it above the tide line.
“I’m going to take a walk,” I say.
“You shouldn’t go alone—” Amir starts.
“I’ll be fine.” It’s a deserted island, for God’s sake. There’s no one else here. “I’ll stay in sight of the boat.”
Chase and Amir glance at each other like they’re deciding whether or not to give me permission. That aggravates me so much that I turn and walk away without waiting for a response.
This whole thing is a mess. When I imagined telling Chase about my pregnancy, I thought he’d be surprised, yes, but I also envisioned him being happy. I thought he’d feel overwhelmed but excited, the way I’m feeling. His stubborn denial is starting to ruin the experience for me, though. How am I supposed to be happy about my impending motherhood with this going on?
“Kendall.”
I turn. Chase is behind me, striding across the sand to catch up.
“I told you I was fine on my own,” I say.
He has a flask in one hand, the other fiddling with the cap, twisting it off and on. “We should talk,” he says.
“About what? We’ve been talking. You don’t want to hear anything I have to say.”
“Okay,” he clarifies. “I should talk.”
I fold my arms across my chest, waiting.
But Chase doesn’t speak. He continues to play with the cap of his flask, avoiding my gaze, until the silence grows so big it feels like a third person in our conversation.
I’m about to say something, anything, just to get him talking, when finally he speaks.
“This has all gone wrong,” he says. “This has all been…the complete opposite of what I would have wanted.”
Well, that makes two of us.
“What do you mean?” I ask. He’s the one who’s been unkind and hard to deal with, not me. If he didn’t want our reunion to play out like this, he was certainly capable of making it go a different way.
“I thought about seeing you again,” he says. “Of course I did. That night in Iowa was special for me, Kendall.”
It was special for me, too. But I don’t feel like saying so right now, not after he’s been accusing me of lying and trying to cheat him all morning.
“You never tried to get in touch with me,” I tell him.
“I thought about it,” he says again. “I considered it. Truly. That note I left you the morning after we were together. Do you remember it?”
Do I remember it? I still have it.
“Vaguely,” I say.
“I wrote so many drafts of that note,” he says. “I wanted to leave you my phone number. I wanted to see if there was a future for us. But in the end…”
“You decided not to,” I say.
“Kendall…”
“I get it. It was a one-night thing.”
“It was more than that,” he says. “What I’m trying to tell you is that my life is complicated. My circumstances are complicated. But if things were different for me, I would have loved to see you again. I would have been over the moon at the idea of seeing where our relationship might take us.”
I stare at him, stunned. What am I supposed to make of this? He’s said such hurtful things to me today. He’s been treating me as if my presence here in Tala is the most unwelcome thing that could have happened. But now, standing here, he’s telling me that he’s glad to be seeing me again?
No. That isn’t what he’s telling me. I force my head to clear, to hear the true message. He’s telling me he would be glad to see me if circumstances were different. This is the same cruelty he’s been giving me all day. He’s saying it might be nice to see me ordinarily, but because I’m pregnant, it’s not.
It’s not my fault, I want to tell him. It takes two to become pregnant, after all. And if he’s not excited about becoming a father, he could just say so. He doesn’t have to accuse me of lying.
“If things were different,” I say, unable to keep a note of bitterness from my voice. “If things were easy, you mean. If there were no pregnancy involved. Well, unfortunately for you, there is. And I’m keeping the baby, so if you’re going to suggest—”
“I wasn’t going to suggest anything,” Chase interrupts. “And I’m not talking about your pregnancy, Kendall. That wasn’t what I meant when I said I wished things were different.”
“What did you mean, then?”
We’re interrupted by someone calling out to us. Chase turns and I look beyond him. Amir is coming up the beach at a jog.
“Everything all right here?” he asks.
“We’re fine,” Chase says.
“Good. Listen, I completely forgot about this, and I feel foolish, but I have a business call in fifteen minutes. I need to go back to the yacht to take it. It won’t take long.”
“Okay, so let’s go,” Chase says.
“No, no, don’t be silly. You two should stay here. Have a little romantic getaway. I’ll just be boring, on the phone the whole time. Stay and have fun on the beach, and I’ll send the launch back to pick you up shortly.”
Chase shrugs. “Okay. That’s fine.”
For the first time, I’m actually happy about the way the plans today are going. I want to be able to finish this conversation Chase has started, even though it’s bothering me to hear him say he’d like me more if things were different, or whatever he’s getting at.
“Yes, that’s fine,” I agree. “We’ll wait on the beach.”
“Perfect.” Amir turns and jogs back toward his boat.
Chase turns his attention back to me. “We should walk over to where the boat landed, right? To make sure they can find us when they come back?”
“Whatever,” I say, following after him.
“Kendall, don’t be angry with me.”
“Don’t be angry with you?” I stop and stare at him. “Chase, I flew halfway around the world to tell you that I’m carrying your baby, and you’ve done nothing but accuse me of lying! How would you feel if you were me?”
He eyes me critically. “I’m starting to believe that you aren’t lying.”
“Really! What changed your mind?”
“You’re sticking to your story awfully well.”
“That’s because it’s the truth.”
“I believe that you believe it’s the truth.”
“What is that supposed to mean?”
“Kendall, I can’t have children. I realize you didn’t know that when you came here, and it’s probably news you weren’t prepared to hear. I think you probably figured it was my baby you were carrying before you had all the information. And that’s understandable.”
“What are you getting at?”
“I’m saying…consider the facts. I’m infertile. Every doctor I’ve been to says the same thing. I think you need to seriously consider that I might not be the father of your baby.”
“Excuse me?” I feel as if the breath has left my lungs.
“Have you even thought about it?” he asks.
“Wow.” I can’t believe what I’m hearing. “Wow. You’re really something.”
“Kendall—”
“Is that what you think of me? That I’ve been with so many men that I’d get confused about who the father of my child is? That I’m so casual a
bout something like that that I’d fly out here to talk to you without being sure?”
“I’m not saying—”
“I told you, didn’t I? That night in Iowa? I told you I don’t usually go home with guys I’ve just met. But I guess you thought that was just a line. I guess you figure I’m taking guys home all the time. Hooking up with everybody.”
“That isn’t what I said. Come on.”
“You don’t think I would know who the father of my child is? I haven’t been with anybody else, Chase. Not since you, and not for months before you either.”
He turns away from me and gazes out over the ocean. The view is clear and seems to go on forever, the sky and sea meeting and melding together in the horizon.
“I didn’t mean to offend you,” he says quietly. “I wasn’t insinuating anything about your character. I certainly wasn’t trying to say that you sleep around.”
“Well it sure sounded like what you were insinuating. I may have overreacted,” I admit. My emotions are running high today, between one thing and another. I’m so longing for him to be kind to me, to be receptive to the news I’ve brought him. It’s physically painful to keep being rebuffed.
“I only thought that maybe there had been someone else,” he says. “And that maybe you had mistaken who the father was. Because it couldn’t be me.”
“It is you,” I tell him. “I’m telling you the truth, Chase. I haven’t been with anybody else. That night was out of character for me. Even at the time, I was surprised by my own actions. It’s not typical for me to go to bed with someone on the first night like that.”
“But you did it,” he says quietly. “On that night, you did it.”
“On that night I did. That doesn’t mean I do it any other time.” I’m still feeling frustrated. Am I going to be judged for my actions of one night? That hardly seems reasonable.
“That’s not what I’m saying,” Chase says.
“What are you saying, then?”
“I’m saying, if that’s not how you usually operate, then what made the difference that night?”
He turns away from the horizon to look me in the eyes, and suddenly I remember viscerally all the powerful chemistry that existed between us. The way his silky voice and deep eyes, the size and the scent of him, seemed to compel me closer and closer to him with every passing moment. I blink, breaking the eye contact, shaking off the spell.
But he captures me again as soon as my eyes are open, locking me in a penetrating stare.
“Why did you come home with me?” he asks. “What made you break your rules for me that night?”
“I…” I hesitate. Can I tell him the truth? Can I confess that the chemistry was just too much for me, that I was overpowered by passion and intensity and desire? No, of course I can’t say that. It would be a humiliating thing, to confess my loss of control.
Even though it was such a delicious experience.
If only I trusted him fully. If only I knew he was my friend. Then I could tell him the truth. Maybe then we could even release our inhibitions again. After all, we’re both stuck here on Tala for one more night. Wouldn’t it be better to spend that night enjoying each other, making a memory like the one we made together in Iowa, instead of resenting each other and the circumstances that brought us here?
How has my head brought me here again? After all the unpleasantness of yesterday and today, how am I looking at this man and wishing I could forget everything and throw myself into his arms?
Why did you break your rules for me? He’s watching me, waiting for my answer. I don’t know what to tell him.
He seems to sense my hesitation. “Tell me,” he says. “Believe me, that night was a break from the ordinary for me too. Tell me what drove you to come back to my room. I believe you when you say it wasn’t something you’d ordinarily do. Why did you do it with me?”
Why did I do it with him?
“I don’t know,” I admit. I feel like the power of his gaze is holding me upright. “I have no idea. I’ve been trying to figure that out for the past four months.”
“Do you regret it?” he asks.
I rest my hand on my stomach, not realizing until my mouth is forming words the significance of that gesture. “No,” I say. “I don’t regret it. I never have.”
“I don’t regret it either,” he says quietly.
Chapter 16
Kendall
After our confessions to each other, there seems to be nothing left to say.
The sand of the beach where the launch rested is scraped into a rut, and I sit there and watch as the sun sinks lower in the sky. Why did I break all my rules for Chase? It’s a question I wish I had the answer to.
But as for the question of regret…there was a bit of self-doubt, of course, when I first realized I was pregnant. When I was panicking. But I’ve lived with the knowledge of this baby for a month now. It’s been with me for even longer. It feels like a part of me. I can’t regret that. Even if Chase never accepts that my child is his, even if he turns us both away and I never hear from him again, I’ll be glad to have the gift he’s left me with.
I turn and look over my shoulder at him. He’s a few yards up the beach, pacing back and forth and clearly lost in thought. A part of me wants to go to him and ask him what he’s thinking about. But a bigger part of me isn’t ready to know the answer to that. Our night together was beautiful, but if the way it ends between us is with his unwillingness to accept his own child, that’s something I’ll have to live with forever. Worse yet, that’s something my child will have to live with.
I rest a hand on my belly. “I’ll take care of you,” I whisper. “Whatever happens.”
Now Chase turns and comes down the beach toward me. Is he coming to tell me he believes me? That he’s finally accepted my story? I scramble to my feet.
But he’s looking out at the water, out toward the giant yacht off in the distance. “He’s been out there a long time,” he says pensively.
“It must be a long call,” I say. “He did say it was business.”
“He also said he’d be sending the launch back to pick us up,” Chase points out.
“But he wanted us to have a romantic getaway,” I remind him. “He thinks we’re married. He’s probably just being sweet. Trying to be sweet, I mean. Giving us a little bit longer alone on a deserted island together.”
“I don’t know.” Chase sounds anxious. “You don’t know Amir like I do.”
“How well do you know him? He made it sound like you hadn’t seen each other in a long time.”
“Well, we haven’t. You’re right. But when I saw him last, let’s just say responsibility wasn’t his strong suit. I wouldn’t put it past him to get back out to his yacht and forget all about us.”
I’m stunned. “You think he forgot we’re here? He couldn’t have. He made such a big deal about bringing us out.”
“If his phone call was distracting enough, it might have slipped his mind,” Chase says.
I stare out at the yacht, my nerves twanging. Can I be sure it isn’t starting to move?
“I wonder if there’s a way of flagging him down,” Chase ponders, half to himself.
“How?” I ask.
“Did you bring your phone?”
“No, I left it on the boat. And who knows if it would get any service here anyway. This is some kind of uncharted island, right?”
I look around. The place is so tiny. Beyond the beach, there’s a wooded area, but if I play the angles right, I can see right through to the shore on the far side.
“He’s coming back for us,” I say, as much to myself as to Chase. “He has to be. I’m pregnant, for God’s sake. He wouldn’t leave a pregnant woman on an island. Nobody’s that irresponsible.”
Chase worries at his lower lip in a way that suggests he’s not so sure. “The sun’s getting low,” he points out. “It’s going to be dark soon. And it’s half an hour back to shore once we’re in the yacht itself.”
�
�What are we going to do?” I say.
As much as I don’t like to think it, Chase is making a lot of sense. Is it possible we are stranded here? If we are, how long would it be before anyone found us? Did Chase tell anyone he was coming out here with Amir today? Because I didn’t even tell anyone I was coming to Tala. I should have told Aunt Mariel, I realize belatedly. No one will ever figure out where I went if I don’t come home when I’m supposed to.
“We could try lighting a signal fire,” Chase suggests.
“How? Do you have a lighter?”
“No, but we could rub sticks together…” He breaks off at my look of disbelief. “Okay, no, we probably couldn’t do that.”
“Chase, there’s no water here.” I’m getting really anxious now. “Unless…what’s in that flask?”
“Scotch. Sorry.”
In the few minutes we’ve been discussing this, the sun has dropped visibly. The sunset would be breathtaking if I wasn’t so scared.
I shade my eyes with my hand, desperate for the sight of the launch leaving the yacht and returning to us. For a moment I even trick myself into thinking I see it, but I’m wrong. It’s just a reflection on the water. I have to force myself to keep my breathing under control.
Don’t panic. It won’t help.
“That boat isn’t that far out,” Chase says, eyeing it speculatively. “Do you think I could swim to it?”
“It must be half a mile out,” I protest.
“I don’t think it’s that far.” He’s walking down the beach now, gauging the distance, and to my horror, he kicks his shoes off and wades out into the surf. “I’m going to give it a try,” he says.
“I don’t think you should.” My heart rate is accelerating now. What if it’s too far? What if the waves are too big? What if something happens to him?
“I’ll be fine,” he assures me. “You sit right there and wait, okay? I’ll swim to the boat and then send the launch back for you. Stay on the beach. Don’t go into the woods.”
This is too much like what Amir said when he was leaving. Suddenly, to my horror, I find myself crying. “No, Chase, please don’t. Please don’t go out there.”
The Baby Miracle Page 11
