She felt like crying. If Derek thought she looked like crap now, wait until she was nine months pregnant and as big as a house. He really had no idea what he was getting himself into, and she was in no fit state to enlighten him.
"Yes, right now. I'll wait a week, and if my period still doesn't come, I'll visit the doctor and call you as soon as I know something definite. Promise."
He rubbed his face in frustration. "Hell, Hannah. I don't know how I'm going to wait another week."
"Do what I'm going to do, which is carry on as if nothing has changed."
Dropping his hand from his face, he stepped closer. "Dammit, that was selfish of me. You must be going through hell." He tentatively touched her shoulder. "How are you feeling? Any morning sickness yet? Maybe you should be resting."
His concern almost broke her down. After the past twelve hours of trying to hold herself together, how wonderful it would be to rest her head on his chest and let him take some of the burden. But was he strong enough? And if she gave in, would she be able to let him go?
She pasted a smile on her lips. "I'm doing okay."
Derek kneaded his knuckles, his face strained. He wasn't over the shock yet, she could see. "I want you to know I'm not going to run away."
"I-it's early days. Anything could happen."
His frown remained. "I won't shirk my responsibilities."
And there was the kicker. She and the unborn baby were his responsibilities, like his granddad, and just like Grandpa Otto, he would visit her and take care of her because it was his duty. A sigh of pain escaped her.
"I know you won't." She swallowed. "You're a great guy, Derek."
"Christ, I wish you wouldn't say that."
She tried to lighten the mood. "Okay, you're a terrible guy, Derek."
"Don't say that either."
He turned away, his neck and shoulders rigid. She should have stepped back, allowed him breathing space, but the sight of him bit into her, and she moved closer and spread her hands tentatively across his shoulder blades.
"Derek," she began, "I wish-"
Before she could even formulate a sentence, he whipped around, and his fierce expression made her falter back.
"You know why you're pushing me away? Because you're scared."
"What?"
"You're scared to let go, to live the life you want. It's how you've always been. You've always been too ready to sacrifice yourself for others. When your mom ran off, you were happy taking care of your dad, Caleb, your grandpa. And then when that wasn't enough, you switched to supporting Rick through medical school. You did all that not just for them, but for yourself."
Indignation rose in her. "Oh, I see. So I put others ahead of myself out of selfishness."
"You like putting others ahead of yourself because that gives you a convenient excuse not to live your own life. You never got to be an obnoxious teenager because you were too busy filling in for your mom. And then, straight after high school, you started working to help provide for your family. And then you became Rick's meal ticket, putting him through medical school and never standing up for yourself because you had a convenient excuse not to."
She tried to block her ears, but his harsh words stripped away her defenses.
"And you're still doing it," Derek continued, relentless. "You want to sacrifice yourself for your unborn baby. You push me away so you have an excuse to put yourself last again. Admit it, Hannah. You're scared of living your own life."
She felt like he'd ripped the skin from her flesh.
"I think you'd better leave." She couldn't yell at him. All her screams were bottled up inside.
Derek blinked. He lifted a hand toward her, hesitation breaking up his glower. "I didn't-"
"Go, please." She couldn't maintain this calm facade for much longer. She stepped back, out of his reach, willing herself not to break down.
"Go-" Her voice cracked, but she kept her head held high.
A spasm crossed Derek's face, and then he swiveled on his heel and left her house.
It seemed only fitting that, heading out of Pine Falls, Derek should bump into Officer Grady again, directing traffic around an accident on the freeway. As Derek passed him, the police officer gave him a crabby, I've-got-my-eye-on-you kind of glare. Derek scowled back at him.
Halfway back to Los Angeles, he realized his back was screwed tight as a drum, his hands were fisted around the steering wheel, and his head felt like it was trapped in a vise. Hours had passed since he'd left Pine Falls, hours spent grimly driving on the interstate, but he was still in shock.
Every time he thought of Hannah, his gut skewered. If he hadn't spotted that empty pregnancy kit, would she have told him? Maybe not. Maybe she'd been willing to let him return to Los Angeles without giving him a hint. That stabbed him. Did she think so little of him? Was he nothing more than a quick fling that she now regretted?
Damn everything to hell. He punched the steering wheel, his foot jerked on the gas pedal, and the SUV fishtailed around a curve. Seconds later, he brought the car back under control. Hell, he should be more careful. How would he support Hannah and his child if he crashed his car and ended up in the hospital?
He took the next exit and pulled up at a diner. As he got out of the car, a searing breeze enveloped him. His shirt stuck to his back, and a devil was playing bongo drums inside his skull. He needed a strong coffee and a couple Aspirin.
His cell phone buzzed. His breathing stalled as the caller ID showed it was Hannah.
"Hannah?" Crap, he hated how eager he sounded. He tried to sound terse. "What's up?"
"Uh, nothing. I just wanted to check up on you." She hesitated. "It's just that when you left you were … upset, and maybe not in the best mood for a long drive."
"I'm halfway to L.A."
"Oh. I hope you're not driving non-stop."
Scowling, he wiped the sweat from his forehead. "Why do you care? You're the one who told me to leave."
She was silent for a while, and he began to regret his snarky reply. If he wanted a more harmonious relationship, then he had to mask his raw emotions.
"Look," he said in a more conciliatory tone, "I'm about to walk into a diner right this moment. I'm not a complete idiot."
She breathed out a shaky sigh. "That's good. I, um, I'll call you next week … "
The rest of her sentence hung in the silence. Next week. Next week he'd either be the father of her child or a brief lapse of judgment she'd want to put behind her as quickly as possible. He didn't know what to wish for.
"Call me as soon as you know one way or another." Every waking minute until she called was going to be torture.
"Okay. I'd better go."
He didn't want her to. "Hannah … "
"Yeah?"
He didn't know what to say. "Look after yourself."
"Uh-huh. Bye."
"Bye."
Chapter Thirteen
Derek sat with Malcolm, his TV producer, in Cecconi's, the glamorous hangout on L.A.'s Melrose Ave. Malcolm was chewing his veal saltimbocca, sipping his pinot noir, and talking fast about the show.
"You're hot at the moment. That Marla Beaudry's sure doing good stuff for your profile."
Derek grimaced. "I didn't expect those reporters when I showed up at the police station." He hadn't been all that surprised when Marla had later admitted that she'd called the reporters.
"Hey, you're good publicity for her, and she's helping you, too."
Derek poked at his short ribs without enthusiasm. He hated the thought of Hannah and Caleb seeing that footage of him with Marla. Hated them thinking he was back with the singer again. He had helped Marla get out of trouble, but that was the end of his dealings with her. And he didn't give a damn about publicity or his public image. His heart wasn't into television. He could barely concentrate on anything since he'd gotten back to L.A. All he could do was wait around for a certain call, the call that might change his entire future.
Derek's cell phone buzzed. He snatched the phone out of his pocket. Hannah. Her name on the screen burned his eyeballs.
"Sorry, Malcolm." Somehow he managed to sound normal. "I don't normally do this, but I really need to take this call."
The producer waved him off. Derek rose and loped out of the restaurant. It was another hot day in L.A., but he suddenly felt chilly. "Hannah?"
"Hi, Derek." The sound of her voice rippled through to his nerve endings. "I said I'd call … " She breathed in deep. "I went to the doctor, and he confirmed it. So-so that's it. I'm pregnant."
He sucked in air. He felt numb and stripped raw at the same time. "That's-good." Was it good? He didn't know, but maybe Hannah didn't think so.
"It doesn't change anything," she said in a rush. "What I said last week still stands. You understand, don't you?"
His head buzzed. He didn't understand anything except that Hannah was carrying his child. "Yeah," he said automatically.