Conviction(87)

He’s silent for a few seconds. “You’re not leaving me then?” His frown matches mine as I finally turn to look at him.

“No, of course, I’m not. Why ever would you think that?”

He thought I was leaving him, he was that panicked because he thought I was leaving him.

I burst into tears. He reaches for me, but I step away before his skin makes contact with mine. I have to be able to see his face clearly when I give him this news. I need to know that whatever the outcome, he’s one hundred percent on board with this. It doesn’t matter what he wants or needs, and it most certainly doesn’t matter what I want or I need, my only concern right now is the baby that I’m carrying inside of me.

“I’m pregnant.” His eyes spark to life in an instant.

“What?” he laughs as he speaks.

And now I have to deliver the killer blow. “I’m pregnant, and it’s not your baby.”

I watch as his whole body moves, it’s almost identical to the movement of the waves below as he seems to roll on the spot.

“Wha… I don’t understand. What d’ya mean, it’s not my baby? What the f*ck, Meebs? What does that even mean?” his eyes are all over my face as he speaks.

“I’ve been trying for a baby with Marcus for months now. We… I haven’t been using any kind of protection with him for well over a year. I told you this already.”

I hate myself for telling him. It hurts my heart so bad and by the expression on his face, I’m hurting him too.

“But when… I thought you hadn’t slept with him in a while?”

And this is the worst part. Much worse than admitting to him that I’m pregnant, is going to be admitting to him how I got pregnant.

“I hadn’t. We hadn’t in a while and then we did. The night that I left him, we did.”

His head flies up from where he was looking down at the water. Eyes wide. His mouth hangs open for a few seconds.

“The night you left him? You mean the night he attacked you…” his words trail off and I can see his thought process registering in his eyes and facial expressions. His frown deepens and he actually backs away from me a couple of steps.

“No. Meebs. Baby, did he…” he trails off shaking his head no, as I nod mine yes. He moves at speed toward me, pulling my body to his. Wrapping me in his protective arms.

“Fuck, baby. Why? Why didn’t you tell me?”

I try to speak, to explain, but I can’t talk around the ball of emotion that’s well and truly lodged in my throat. Ella Henderson is singing about a ghost and I listen to the soothing tone of her voice to calm me down.

Eventually, I manage to form words. “I love you. I love… I’m so sorry, Con. I wish it was yours. I’ll love the baby regardless, but I wish it was yours.”

He kisses my head, my hair, my face and nose. He kisses away my tears.

“He will be mine, Meebs, he’ll be mine and yours. The genes don’t matter. He’ll still be ours. Anyway, you don’t know that he’s not yet.”

I look up at him, confused. “How can he… it, be yours?”

He shrugs and smiles. Through all this shit, he finds me a smile.

“Well, think about it. You’ve been trying all this time with Marcus and nothing. A coupla months with me and bang, you’re pregnant.”

“But we’ve been careful.”

“No we haven’t, not every time.”

He leads me inside by the hand and pulls me into him as we lay down on the bed.

“That first week, remember? Once on the kitchen worktop and twice in the pool. That’s three times, Meebs. That makes the odds more likely to be in my favour.”

We’re both very quiet as we consider this. I listen to the strong, steady rhythm of his heartbeat and that combined with the way Conner strokes his fingers up and down my spine, soon sends me drifting off to sleep, with just one thought running on a loop through my head… I’m pregnant and I don’t know who the father is.





When I wake later, I’m lying in the middle of the bed with the duvet folded over me. I’m alone, but I can hear Conner’s voice from somewhere. After listening for a few seconds, I realise he’s out on the balcony.

“So, who would you recommend?”

“Well, could you find out?”

“Could you do that for me? Get me a name and a number and I’ll get it sorted so that we can be seen Monday.”

He laughs. “Too f*cking right Jen, sometimes it is good to be me.”

He’s talking to Jenna, but I’m not sure what about.

“Love you too, Jen, thanks for this and don’t forget, for now, it’s just between us.”

He walks back into the bedroom, just as I’m pushing myself up to a sitting position in the bed. I feel like shit. My face feels dry and it stings from the salty tears that I’ve cried. My eyes feel puffy and I don’t even know what my hair is doing.

Conner, on the other hand, wow. He’s showered, his hair’s still damp and pushed back from his face, which is tanned from all the sun we’ve been getting the last couple of weeks. Those bluey-green eyes look amazing against his darker skin and I love the way they’re all over me right now. He gives me a smile, a different smile. It’s a combination of the boy I used to love smile, his sexy, I’m Conner f*cking Reed smile and something else.