The Texas Tycoon's Baby(54)
“This was what I was afraid of,” Mina said from the bed.
She was pushing him and he wasn’t in any place to tolerate it.
“You didn’t think I’d be angry?” he asked. “Especially after you let me make love to you again? Were you buttering me up?” Manipulating him?
He’d been manipulated enough.
“No,” she said so forcefully that he immediately regretted the questions.
Then, softer, she said, “I knew you would be angry with me, and I deserve that. There were so many times I almost told you about the baby, but each moment never seemed right.”
He wondered if his mother and Eli had ever talked together, asking themselves when the time would be right to let Chet in on their secret. He wanted to be angry with Mina—it would feel so much better if he could direct it somewhere besides the vague world around him—but if there was a rational side of him, it was screaming that he would’ve been wary of sending a bombshell like this his way, too.
And he hated himself all the more for it.
Good God, what the hell kind of father would he be?
What had they gotten this baby into?
He was so livid that he wished there was a way to tell their baby that, no matter what, he or she would be protected. There’d never be ugliness because of his or her parents.
And that was why he put on the rest of his clothing, thinking that he really should cool off, weighing what to say to Mina next before he said something he couldn’t take back.
“Where are you going?” she asked.
“To get myself together. It’s not good for me to be here right now.”
“Oh.”
She said it as if he’d proven something, and good or bad, Chet actually felt as if she was accusing him of being a terrible father already. That she’d known he was going to blow it, and that was the reason she’d put off telling him.
He should’ve thought twice about that, but his nerves were shredded from all the scrapes they’d been getting into these past months.
“What does ‘oh’ mean?” he asked, even while knowing that he should’ve just left it alone.
He wanted to hear her say it, just as she’d wanted him to talk this out instead of just appreciating that they were going to have a baby together.
He added, “Did you think I’d walk out that door and never come back?”
When she flashed an injured gaze at him, he realized that Mina was dealing with her own issues here, too—the woman who’d never quite believed that people wouldn’t reject her.
That dug into him even more.
“You actually did think that,” he said, hardly believing it. “You thought I might be the kind of man who’d turn his back on his child, just like Eli did.”
“No.” But even though she tried to deny it, he could see it on her face.
Bam. Right in the gut.
The real truth.
His mind grasped at what was going on here because he just wasn’t sure anymore. Would she always be thinking that he would leave?
In spite of all the I-love-you’s, did she actually trust him?
Crushed, he buttoned his shirt, put on his jacket. Now he really needed to cool off.
“Don’t walk out that door,” she said, her voice cracking.
“Don’t worry, Mina.” His heart felt as if it’d been sliced up and was stretching, trying like hell to bring itself back together. But it wasn’t working. “You’re afraid that I’d leave the baby behind, but in spite of what you might think of me, that’s not the case. I’ll always take care of my child.”
She dropped back to lean against the wall, cocooned in that sheet, clearly decimated at what he’d said.
He would take care of the baby.
But what about her?
He left the question behind him, taking his battered heart instead as he walked out of the cottage to do that cooling off he so sorely required.
Little did he know that when he returned she would be gone.
The morning after, Mina stared at the dawn-grayed ceiling of her house, the expanse of pale paint like a blank slate.
When Chet had left her in the cottage, she’d been so angry at him that she hadn’t stayed, heading straight home in one of the Barrons’ limos without Chet’s knowledge. She’d felt too numb in the chest, just like another blank slate, this one marked with slashes of pain that only emphasized the otherwise empty expanse inside of her.
She had turned off her phone so Chet couldn’t reach her and, once home, impulsively written a resignation letter to the Barron Group, hopping in her car and driving to the closed offices, where she’d slid the paper under his door, then left.
This morning, she’d still been angry at him, but she felt the same way with herself, too. It was just that she’d been hoping for a miracle, hoping that Chet wouldn’t just say all the right things but that he would somehow banish how he really felt, as well.