by Janice Lynn
Their conversation remained light through the rest of their meal, mostly with Charlie telling her stories about his class at the university and the research he’d gotten involved with. All of which fascinated Savannah.
“How did you end up in cardiology?” she asked after the waiter had taken their dessert order.
“For as long as I can remember, I knew I was going to be a doctor. My grandfather had congestive heart failure and was in and out of the hospital with exacerbations. I remember sitting at his bedside with my mother. His cardiologist came in and I listened to him and knew at that moment that I wanted to specialize in cardiology. From that point on, I’ve never considered doing anything else.”
“How old were you?”
“Eleven.”
“You’ve known what you wanted to do since you were eleven years old?” she asked incredulously.
He nodded. “I’ve no regrets. I enjoy what I do.”
A memory of the night he’d told her he was leaving for Nashville flashed through her mind. “That’s right. Your career means everything to you.”
* * *
Did it? Charlie wondered. If life were different, if he were different, he wasn’t so sure he’d feel that way.
But life wasn’t different. He wasn’t different. He was a person his own parents hadn’t loved. A person who had caused his own mother to take her life.
Yeah, it was much better for him to focus on his career.
He could control his career.
Emotions and relationships were things that were unpredictable. You couldn’t make someone love you. He’d tried his entire childhood. And even if a person thought they loved you...he’d witnessed time and again over the years as “love” had faded into fights and eventually a breakup. He didn’t fool himself that he was any better than his friends and colleagues. Eventually, he and Savannah would have reached crisis point and everything would have fallen apart. She’d have realized she didn’t really care about him, that he was unlovable.
He’d just sped that process up by taking the job in Nashville. Only he’d been too late. He’d already gotten her pregnant.
“Do you have names picked out?”
Her gaze lifted to his and a myriad of emotions swam across the deep blue of her eyes. “Not really. Any family names you’ve always considered passing along to one of your kids?”
“I never planned to have children.” He raked his hand through his hair. “I guess the responsible thing would have been for me to have had a vasectomy, but I thought we were always careful.”
“I’m sorry I messed up your plans.”
Her words cut deep, echoing how he’d felt most of his childhood, most of his life. Never did he want Savannah to feel that way, for their child to feel that way.
“It’s my fault, not yours. But no, there’s nothing I’d want to pass from my family to our child. My grandfather is the only pleasant memory I have of anyone related to me.”
“The one who died when you were eleven?”
He nodded. “He was the only person who ever seemed to want me around.”
“That’s sad.”
He shook his head. “Nope. That’s life.”
“Not my life.”
“I’m glad you had a better upbringing, Savannah.”
“It wasn’t always easy. My parents were crazy about each other. When my dad died, my mother was devastated and suddenly struck with the reality that she didn’t know how to do anything or how to take care of herself and me.”
She paused, took a sip of her water. “While my mom devoted herself to me all day long every day, my dad worked, took care of the finances, the house, everything.”
“That must have been hard on her, and you, after he died.”
“Looking back, I think she would have had a mental breakdown if it weren’t for having to take care of me. She pulled herself together and did what she had to do. She got a job at the school where I went so her schedule would be the same as mine, and then she babysat in the evenings and on the weekends. Everything she did, she did for me.”
Charlie couldn’t imagine. Had his parents ever done anything for him? Maybe. He was probably being too harsh. After all, both of them had given up their lives because of him. Perhaps they’d felt they’d already sacrificed enough. Plus, he’d had glimpses of what he’d craved from time to time from his mother. She’d be having a good day and would take him to the park or read him a story. Those times had been far and few between, but they had occasionally happened.
“You were lucky.”
“Did your mother work outside the home?”
He shook his head. “She might have been happier if she had.”
“I can’t imagine being happier having to leave your child.”
“Do you plan to keep working after the baby is born?”
Her brow furrowed. “Of course I am. I have bills.”
“I’ll give you child support, Savannah. Enough that you wouldn’t have to work if you didn’t want to.”
She shook her head. “That would make me completely dependent upon you. I’d never do that. I can take care of myself and this baby. I don’t need you or anyone.”
She was right. She could, and would, take care of herself and their child. Her words stung, though. Not that he didn’t know she didn’t need him. He did know that.
Maybe he’d always known deep down. Although he and Savannah had been perfectly in tune, he’d always known he wouldn’t stay and that she’d be fine. Maybe that was why he’d felt so safe letting their relationship go on as long as he had.
“I’ve no doubt any judge will award you a great deal of support, Savannah.”
She traced her fingertip over the rim of her water glass. “I’m not going to take you to court, Charlie. All I want from you is our baby. Nothing more.”
Which was just as well, because all he had to give her beyond that was money. Although she would make do and would provide just fine for their child, there was no reason for her to struggle to do so. They’d cross that bridge closer to the time for the baby to arrive. For now, he didn’t want to argue with her.
“Our baby is lucky to have you, Savannah.”
Glancing down at her plate, she shrugged. “Our baby will be loved, Charlie. Always.”
“Like I said, our baby is lucky to have you.”
* * *
Had Charlie’s parents not loved him? More and more, Savannah found herself wondering about the couple who’d brought Charlie into the world.
He was such a high-functioning person that it was difficult to see beneath the super-successful layers to the inside she was beginning to think wasn’t nearly as whole as she’d once thought.
Unable to resist, she reached across the table, took his hand in hers. “Our baby is lucky to have you too, Charlie.”
He winced. “We both know that isn’t true.”
“Regardless of where our relationship is now, Charlie, there is no one I’d rather be the father of my child than you.”
He pulled his hand free. “That’s crazy. There are a lot more desirable genetics out there than my screwed-up ones.”
She shrugged. “Possibly, but I stand by what I said. You are an amazing cardiologist who genuinely cares about people, a brilliant man who sees things more clearly than most, a beautiful man with a body most men would envy and most women would desire to have their way with.” She could feel the heat burning her cheeks as she spoke, but she pushed on because he needed to hear the truth. “You’re fun, witty, and make me laugh—or at least you used to,” she clarified. “All those are traits I hope our child inherits.”
“I think you have the wrong guy,” he finally said, looking a little uncomfortable as he took a drink.
She shook her head. “No. Although I did miscalculate a
few things about you that were pointed out a few months ago, you are still you. The past few days, staying here with you and you taking care of me, has reminded me of that. Thank you.”
“For?”
“Taking care of me. I hate that you’ve had to, but I do appreciate that you have.”
“It’s my fault you needed taking care of.”
“My wreck was a series of unfortunate events—the fender bender that caused the initial slowing down on the interstate, the driver behind me who was texting rather than paying attention to the road. You had nothing to do with my wreck.”
“It’s my fault you were on that road.”
“I chose to be on that road. You didn’t force me to drive to Nashville. I did that of my own free will.”
“You’re being too generous to me.”
She laughed. “No, Charlie. I assure you, being too generous with you isn’t what I’ve done over the past few months. Quite the opposite. I keep trying to dislike you but it just won’t happen, no matter how much I want it to.”
He winced again. “You would be better off if you hated me.”
She took a deep breath. “I thought so, but I was wrong.”
“How so?”
“Because you’re basically a good guy. Just because you didn’t want the same things from our relationship that I did doesn’t make you less of a good guy. It just makes you not the guy for me.”
The skin pulled tight over his cheeks and he took another drink. “You’ll find the right guy. You’re a wonderful woman and any man would be lucky to have you in his life.”
“You’re probably right,” she agreed, studying the man across the table from her and wondering if she already had found the right guy for her. “But if I never do, I’ll be just fine. I don’t need a man to make me feel complete. I had a good life before you and I’ll have a good life after you.”
As she said the words out loud, she knew they were true. Not that her life was the one she’d envisioned, but she would have a good life. She wasn’t so sure about the man sitting across from her.
“I hope you have a good life too, Charlie.”
He frowned. “I do.”
Savannah didn’t believe him.
“Truce for the baby’s sake?” she offered.
He nodded. “Just so long as you understand that for me nothing has changed from how I felt on the night I told you I was moving to Nashville.”
“Just so long as you understand that for me everything has changed from how I felt before the night you told me you were moving to Nashville,” she countered.
“Fair enough.”
The waiter set down a strawberry shortcake with homemade cream sauce, whipped topping, and two spoons.
Savannah sighed in appreciation. “That looks amazing. I’m pretty sure both spoons are for me since I am eating for two,” she teased, committed to the truce between them. A truce was the best thing for their baby, the best thing for both of them.
Being angry with him for being a jerk would be easier in many ways, but the reality was she couldn’t stay angry at a man who was taking such great care of her when he didn’t have to, other than the little fact that he hadn’t loved her nor wanted to stick around for the rest of her life. Now that she didn’t want him to, maybe they really could forge some type of truce that would allow them to raise their baby in peace.
CHAPTER TWELVE
“RUMMY!” SAVANNAH BURST out laughing and slapped the card Charlie had just played.
He glanced at the card, at the ones she’d already played, then rolled his eyes. “Obviously, I’m not paying close enough attention.”
“Obviously not,” she agreed, turning the cards over to show they were “dead”. “It’s not like you to make a mistake like that when it’s just the two of us playing.”
Savannah was right. It wasn’t like him to make such a simple mistake during a card game, but his brain wasn’t on the game.
It was on the woman sitting across the table from him. They were both sitting on the floor on opposite sides of the coffee table that had been cleared for their game.
Much as most nights over the past couple of weeks, they went to eat, then came home and played games. Cards, chess, checkers, it didn’t matter just so long as they were busy.
If he didn’t suggest something, she did.
It was as if they were afraid to have time alone that wasn’t crammed full of something to do.
As if they might get into trouble with idle time on their hands.
Charlie might.
Although, if one looked closely, her bruises could still be spotted, overall the past three plus weeks had faded all but the larger ones. Her lacerations had healed nicely and even the sutured area on her face was looking good and barely noticeable at her hairline. Her lip was healed. Her leg stronger to where standing no longer hurt. No doubt, when she went to her appointment on Monday, Dr. Kimble would release her to return to Chattanooga. She was doing great, was over five months pregnant. There was no reason for her to stay in Nashville.
Except he didn’t want her to leave.
The thought of his apartment without her left him cold.
And distracted.
“Charlie, you just played the wrong card again,” Savannah pointed out when he dropped a card onto the one she’d just played. “Your head is not in this game. Are you okay?”
“Fine,” he assured her, but wasn’t positive that he was telling the truth.
Savannah would be going home in a couple of days.
He lifted his gaze and collided with her blue one.
She searched his as if seeking the secrets to his very being. No one knew his secrets. Some things were better kept locked away.
“Please tell me what you’re thinking,” she said, her gaze remaining locked with his.
“It doesn’t matter.”
“Why do I get the feeling it matters a great deal?”
“I was thinking about how much I’m going to miss you when you go home on Monday.”
“Am I going home on Monday? Dr. Kimble didn’t say that at my follow-up, just that we’d take it week by week, and I wasn’t ready at my last office visit.”
“We both know you’re a lot stronger than you were at that appointment and the one before. The ultrasound showed everything looked great with the baby and you’ve not had any contractions since you were in the hospital.”
“That’s a good thing, though, right?”
“Yes,” he agreed. “I want you well, the baby well.”
“The baby is doing well.” She laid her hand across her belly that seemed to be expanding daily. Considering she’d had very little of a belly a month ago, now she had a definitely pregnant-appearing one.
Her hand moved as her belly fluttered and she smiled. “I don’t know if I will ever get used to that.”
He watched her from across the table as she stared at her belly and laughed out loud after a moment. She glanced up at him and smiled. “Do you want to feel?”
Did he? She’d put his hand on her belly once before but the baby hadn’t moved, not to where he could feel anything other than the warmth of Savannah through her shirt.
Which was enough to have him scooting the table out to where he could get close to her. When he was settled next to her, she took his hand and placed it over her stomach where hers had been previously.
“I never know how quickly he or she will move. Sometimes it’s almost constant and sometimes he or she just stops the moment I start trying to let someone else feel.”
“Who else have you let touch your belly?”
“Don’t sound so jealous because we both know you’re not, that I’ve been right here for over three weeks. It’s not as if I’ve had an opportunity to hang out with other men and ask them t
o palm my belly.”
“I know that.” He did and yet her words did strike him with jealousy. Before he could say anything more, a little nudge bumped against his hand. Eyes wide, he glanced up at her. “That is amazing.”
She nodded. “I think so every time I feel him or her move. I can’t believe we’ll soon get to hold our baby.”
He glanced up and stared at her a bit in awe. “You really do want this baby, don’t you, Savannah?”
She looked at him as if he’d asked the most ridiculous question ever. “Of course I do. How could I not?”
How could she not? How did he explain how his own parents hadn’t wanted him and what a negative impact he’d had on their lives?
“Not every woman wants to have children.”
“Not every man wants to have children either,” she countered, arms crossing and resting on top of the little shelf her stomach made.
“Some men aren’t meant to be fathers.” Even as he said the words he couldn’t lift his hand away from the roundness of her belly, couldn’t remove his palm from feeling the miracle of life growing within her.
She placed her hand over his, tracing over his fingers. “I guess that’s something we should have talked about.”
“One of the many things we should have talked about.”
“It’s funny,” she mused, staring at where his hand cradled her stomach. “I thought I knew you inside out and really I didn’t know you at all.”
Her words, so full of hurt and a sense of betrayal, cut him. “You did, more than you think.”
She shook her head. “I didn’t know the important things—that you planned to leave Chattanooga, that you didn’t want children, that your career was more important than anything else. I didn’t know a lot of things that I should have known.”
The baby moved against his hand, just a little fluttery feel—a knee? An elbow? A foot? A hand?—rolling against his palm. His gaze lifted to Savannah’s in awe.
“How do you sleep with all that going on inside you?” he asked, because he wanted to know and because he couldn’t respond to her comment. She was right. She should have known those things about him. There were things he’d purposely kept hidden.
