A Husband's Regret (The Unwanted Series)(30)

Bryce wanted to break something, wanted to hurt someone, preferably the  smarmy bastard who had ingratiated himself to Bryce's wife! God, this  was so much worse than he'd imagined. Bronwyn was moving on with her  life and seeing other people. What if she let this guy, this Raymond,  touch her or, worse, make love to her? His stomach rebelled at the  thought, and he picked up his half-made sandwich and tossed it into the  trashcan.





  

He pressed the heels of his hands to his eyes and frantically tried to  figure out what to do, how to make this right, but he didn't know how.  He no longer had any control over his own life. Everything was sliding  so swiftly downhill that he knew it was only a matter of time before it  all ended. Bronwyn didn't see herself as his wife anymore. She wanted  nothing to do with him, and who could blame her? After the way he had  behaved, it was nothing less than he deserved. He could threaten her  with a custody battle, but he didn't have it in him to do that to her or  Kayla.

After all those months of self-righteous anger and believing he was the  wronged one, while his Bronwyn suffered unimaginable horrors on her own,  he now had to face up to the fact that he had brought all of this upon  himself. Blackmailing Bronwyn to stay with him, after everything else  that he had done wrong, would in no way, shape, or form restore his  self-respect. He had to let her go; she deserved to be happy and it was  obvious that he couldn't make her happy, that he had very rarely made  her happy. That was his failure, his shame, and his cross to bear, and  he would no longer have her share that burden.



"What the hell do you mean, you're pregnant? What about your studies and  the mutual decision we made when we first got married? We were going to  wait, Bronwyn, remember? Just tell me you're joking." The fury he had  felt that night scorched its way through his body and obliterated his  ability to think rationally. He moved away from her and jumped to his  feet to glower down at her. She had looked so confused and hurt that for  a moment he nearly softened, nearly took her into his arms to comfort  her. But then those two words echoed their way through his brain again  and his white-hot, bitter anger reasserted itself. The sense of betrayal  left an acrid taste in his mouth.

"I know that it's sooner than we'd planned," she said softly, trying to  maintain an even tone of voice. "But this is the reality of our  situation now and it can't be changed. We're having a baby . . . a baby,  Bryce. Don't you understand how wonderful that is?"

"I can't believe you did this. I can't believe you would stoop to this,"  he gritted out bitterly. "This was supposed to be a joint decision. I'm  not ready for this, Bronwyn. I don't want a kid, damn it!"

"But it's our baby . . . we made it together," she protested, and he  could hear the pain and confusion in her voice but just couldn't keep  the venom out of his own, knowing that if he allowed her to see through  his anger to his own pain and confusion, she would think that what she  had done was okay, and he was too furious with her to allow her to think  that yet.

"You mean you made it, without my consent." He could barely look at her.  He didn't want to see her tears-he hated her tears-but he could hear  them in her gasp and in her voice when she spoke.

"I don't know why you're being like this," she cried. "I didn't plan  this, it just happened. Our birth control failed. I asked the doctor and  he said that if I'd had a stomach virus or anything like that it could  provide a window of opportunity. And you know that I was sick a couple  of days before your company party three months ago." Damn her, she was  trying to cover her tracks. He strode out of the conservatory and  downstairs into their en suite, while she trotted behind him, still  trying to tell him about a stomach bug that she had had three months  ago. How the hell could she expect him to remember something like that,  anyway? He pushed back the niggling voice that told him he did remember  it and that he had pampered her ridiculously while she had been sick.  Instead, he convinced himself that he couldn't recall whatever  insignificant bug she was referring to. He opened the medicine chest and  yanked out her birth-control pills.

"What are you doing?" She sounded scared and appalled as she watched him  count the pills in the box. His eyes clouded over with a haze of red  when he realized that the numbers were right.

"God, have you been chucking pills down the drain every night?" he  wondered out loud, hating himself even as he asked the question.

"You know I wouldn't do that," she defended urgently.

"Is that so? I obviously don't know you as well as I thought I did, do I?"

"Of course you know me, Bryce." she laid a tentative hand on his rigid  forearm, and his flesh burned beneath the contact. He yanked his arm  away and turned away from her. His eyes flooded with tears, he needed  time to think, but he couldn't think with her standing in the same room,  not when she was crying, not when he was the one responsible for her  tears.





  

"Get out of here," he whispered harshly, wanting her out of the room,  not wanting her to hear or see how much he ached to take her into his  arms.

"What?"

"Get the hell out," he snarled, bracing himself before turning to face  her. He barely kept himself from flinching when he saw her tears. "Go  now." She uttered a low cry and whirled from the room, fleeing as  quickly as she could. Bryce finally allowed himself to break, sinking  back against a tiled wall as his legs gave out and sliding down to the  floor. He clasped his head in his hands and shook uncontrollably as he  tried to imagine his life from this point on.





CHAPTER TEN

Bryce had to go in to the office the following morning-the day of  Bronwyn's Big Date. He hadn't done so in months, but he and Pierre had  an urgent meeting with a very important client and the man had requested  Bryce's presence. As he was the business's CFO and Vice President of  Marketing, Bryce knew that it was time to pick up the reins of his life  again. He had responsibilities to Pierre, their employees, their  clients, and to himself. It was time but it was just unfortunate timing.  Celeste was down with the flu, Bronwyn had a test, also her  all-important date was that night, and Bryce wasn't about to bail on  this fatherhood business just because things got a little sticky. He  hadn't even told Bronwyn about this meeting, but he figured that she had  coped with much worse crises over the past couple of years, so he could  deal with this one all on his own.

That meant taking Kayla into the office and she was in a terrible mood.  He dressed her in her prettiest pink frock, promising her all kinds of  treats if she just did this one thing for Daddy today. He didn't need  his hearing to know that she was muttering a whole lot of "Kayla no want  tos" into his hair as he tied the laces on the tiny red sneakers she'd  insisted on wearing with the girly little dress. He'd relented on the  shoes because he was getting pretty sick of trying to reason with her.  Bad parenting, he knew, but it was a matter of picking his battles, and  he was running late. He was also terrified of losing his temper with her  while there was no one else around and wanted to get out of the house  and to the office as soon as humanly possible.

By the time Cal-who also acted as his driver these days-parked the car  in the underground parking lot of the huge building in Central Cape  Town, which hosted DCP Jewellers Inc., he was exhausted and feeling more  than a little harassed. Petulant, angry tears were seeping down his  daughter's rosy cheeks, and he could more than imagine her nagging  crying. He knew her well enough by now to know when she was acting up  and when she was just being difficult.

"Kayla." He hoped his voice was firm enough. "Stop crying. You're going  meet some nice, new friends." She was shaking her head in response to  his promise, and he could read her lips well enough to understand that  she didn't want "new fwends." He groaned and dropped a kiss on one wet,  chubby cheek.

"Of course you want new friends." His plan was to drop her off at the  company's day-care center. Quite a few of the young executives who were  present stopped in their tracks to stare as he made his way through  reception. He nodded at them abruptly, not caring for the open-mouthed  shock they were all displaying but knowing that his presence, especially  with a toddler in tow, would fuel gossip for months to come. They were  naturally curious because not many of them had seen him since his  accident; also God only knew how much noise Kayla was making. Pierre  loomed in front of him and grinned as his eyes dropped to the fractious  child on Bryce's hip.

"Hello, Mikayla," he smiled down at her, signing so that Bryce could  catch what he was saying. "Why so grumpy?" He reached over and tried to  tug the resisting child into his arms. Kayla refused to go, burying her  wet face against Bryce's neck and tightening her small, surprisingly  strong arms around his shoulders. Bryce met Pierre's amused eyes and  groaned.