He hadn’t even taken three steps in the door before she had joyously attacked him while I was keeled over a toilet, much like now puking out the entire contents of my inner body. I could hear her squealing about how happy she was to be a grandmother from down the hall, how she’d begun to doubt it was ever going to happen.
My mother in law rapturously led Sebastian, who was needless to say utterly dazed and shocked and confused, to where I’d collapsed on the bathroom floor, vomit still dribbling out of my mouth.
We’d stared at each other, myself too exhausted to be apologetic and himself too shaken to be showing any emotion at all.
Fortunately Karina had enough excitement for all three of us.
Sebastian had been a bit bipolar since that moment. There were times when he’d inch closer to peek at my stomach and ask how I was feeling, and then there were times when he wouldn’t talk to me for a week straight.
I wondered if he doubted the child was his, I wondered what he thought of me, I wondered if he’d ever even wanted children.
We certainly hadn’t ever talked about it, we barely talked about anything at all.
The only people I had to talk to were Lewis Carson and Harry Bircham.
Harry, the sweet old former chef of the Davis family who’d taken over as baker of my shop, was almost as excited for the baby’s coming as Karina. I was glad she had him as an outlet, I’d walked into the shop numerous times to find them pouring over baby name books or nursery decoration ideas.
“We can’t pick a color, though, can we?” Karina had muttered scathingly, glaring at me from over the top of the baby book while Harry nervously chuckled and pulled her attention back to the onesie decorations at hand.
Lewis, on the other hand, had been much more standoffish since the news came out. To tell the truth our conversations had been minimal, and only consisting of bakery talk.
I didn’t blame him for withdrawing, of course, though I did miss his company dearly. But the poor man had confessed the growth of deep feelings for me just moments before I’d realized I was pregnant. I’m sure it was confusing for the handsome, blond manager.
Lewis stared at me still, a mix of forlorn affection on his creased brow. His dimples no longer showed when he smiled.
There was a time, last month, when I forgot my jacket and he ran after me with it, throwing it over my shoulders.
“I don’t want either of you cold.” He’d whispered as he wrapped it securely around my shoulders, our faces close but not touching, his fingers brushing against my own.
My feelings for Lewis were complicated at best.
Before his confession, thoughts of his attractiveness and kind heart lingered in the back of my mind, unrealized and unnoticed. Afterwards, it was hard not to think of those things.
But I was a married woman. A married, pregnant woman. A married, pregnant woman who was currently tied with one of the most influential, wealthy, and arguably sexy men on this planet.
If only that certain man was around a bit more and willing to share his heart with me…but Sebastian Davis wasn’t. And he never would change, would he?
I’d begged Karina one night, when I was so sick and Sebastian was gone.
Would he ever change? Would he ever be here when I needed him? Would he ever truly see me?
But my mother in law had none of those answers. No one could answer those questions but Sebastian, and I was too much of a coward to try and force him to be straight with me.
A sudden sigh from the room attached to the bathroom I crouched in set me quiet once more, glancing towards the closed door that separated the huge room of our hotel and the bathroom.
The young billionaire was out there, right now, so close and so far, asleep in the bed that we’d shared the night prior.
I was glad to be out of the mansion, and glad to be on a private, beautiful island, though not particularly glad of the circumstances.
Alissa and George’s wedding would be tomorrow afternoon, though I wasn’t even sure I’d be able to make it through the whole thing without a barf bag.
I hadn’t realized how much I’d come to depend on Karina’s company until she wasn’t with me, even for just the week that we would be out of town. Now that I was stuck on this island without her, I wished she was here.
With my own mother gone, Karina’s time spent with me was a relief. The woman was surprisingly comforting in the middle of a migraine, always understanding of oddball cravings, and motherly in a way that almost eased the void in my heart that had become larger since discovering I was pregnant.
I missed my parents every day, of course, but knowing that I was going to have a child that would never know the joy of my mother’s laugh or the tickling of my father’s beard made my heart ache with painful depth. I’d begun having frequent dreams of them meeting each other, of my parents crying over the sweet little bundled blanket in their arms.