The Other Woman(80)

Funny how the possibility of me being ill was all about him. I hadn’t really noticed that before.

I shook my head. ‘No, I’m fine, we’re fine.’

‘Of course we are, aren’t we?’

‘Not me and you,’ I said slowly, as I rubbed my tummy. ‘Me and this one.’

‘Sorry, I’m not getting you,’ he frowned.

‘I’m pregnant,’ I said quietly, though it felt as if I’d shouted it across the pub.

‘What?’ he exclaimed.

I watched his expression change from confusion to anger, to joy, and back to confusion again, all in a split second.

‘You’re pregnant? How?’

‘Er . . . do you really need me to explain?’ I asked.

‘But I thought you were . . . I thought we had this covered.’

‘We did, well I did, but I missed a fair few days after the wedding, what with everything going on. I just didn’t keep on top of it.’

‘How many did you miss?’ he asked, as if it mattered.

‘I don’t know . . . maybe ten days, a couple of weeks? I can’t remember. But regardless, one way or another, I’m now pregnant.’

‘But shouldn’t you have thought to be more careful?’

This wasn’t going how I’d thought it would. Or maybe it was exactly what I’d expected, deep down.

‘So, what are we going to do?’ he said, rubbing the bridge of his nose.

I looked at him, unsure of what he was actually asking. I didn’t feel that we had an option. Obviously, he did.

‘Nothing,’ I said tightly. ‘I’m going to have a baby.’

His eyes narrowed, and he was silent for what seemed like an eternity.

‘Okay,’ he said finally. ‘So this is good news, yes?’

‘I haven’t had a chance to digest it yet, I only found out myself this morning, but it could be good, couldn’t it?’

We both stood there, looking dumbfounded, unsure of what to do or say next. He ran a hand through his hair, and I waited for his next move. I honestly wasn’t sure if he was going to hug me or walk out.

He did neither. ‘So, what are we going to do about the wedding?’

It felt like both of us were walking on eggshells. ‘I don’t want to get married whilst I’m pregnant, so I suppose it will have to wait.’

‘Okay, so that’s decided then,’ he said half-heartedly, before pulling me into an awkward embrace. ‘That’s great.’

His face told a different story to his words, but I had to allow him time to come to terms with what this meant for him, and us as a couple. I’d had close to eight hours to get my head around this life-changing news, he’d not yet had eight minutes, so I allowed him time, to give him the benefit of doubt.

‘Yes,’ I replied hesitantly. ‘It is.’





38

‘How do I look?’ I asked, without taking my eyes off my reflection in the mirror.

Adam came up behind me, put his hands on my burgeoning belly, and kissed my cheek. ‘You look really hot.’

‘Hot’ was not how I felt, but it was obvious that Adam clearly found my changing body appealing, as he hadn’t left me alone for the past few weeks. Whilst I wrestled my huge boobs into something resembling a hammock, I’d often find him just sitting on the edge of the bed, watching in amazement, and lust.

It had taken a while for us to get used to the idea of my pregnancy, and we had alternately fought, and then made love, often all in one night.

Just a few weeks before, we’d had a huge row over what I was wearing. ‘You’re not going out dressed like that,’ Adam had said, as he watched me stepping into a new black dress, ready for a night on the town with Pippa and Seb. I’d loved it when I’d seen it in Whistles, as its body-con shape had hugged my slim hips – my bump wasn’t yet visible.

‘Since when?’ I teased. ‘You know you love me in a tight little number, and the beauty of this one is that it’s going to grow with me.’ I stretched the Lycra material outwards over my tummy, as if to prove the point.

‘That was then, but this is now,’ he said seriously. ‘I don’t want you going out like that.’

I turned to face him. ‘Are you being serious?’

He nodded and looked away. ‘You’re carrying my baby now, you need to dress accordingly.’

‘And what is “accordingly”?’ I laughed. ‘Am I supposed to be wearing a tent, even though I’m not showing yet?’

‘Just show some respect,’ he said. ‘For me and the baby.’

‘Oh, come on, Adam. You sound like your mother. How I choose to dress or not dress has got nothing to do with you.’ I looked down at myself. ‘This outfit would have driven you crazy a few months ago. Nothing’s changed, I still look the same, but you’re honestly telling me I’m being disrespectful?’

He’d come at me then, and grabbed hold of my wrist. ‘You’re pregnant and you’re happy to go out dressed like a hooker, are you? You’re going to get the wrong kind of attention, and I’m not having some drunken letch coming on to you when you shouldn’t even be out.’

‘Oh, I’ve heard it all now,’ I shouted. ‘I’m two months pregnant and I’m not supposed to go out ever again? I’m not changing.’