“Shit,” he repeated. “I’m so sorry, sweetheart,” he said and claimed my hand. “I didn’t mean to bring him up. I can be such an idiot sometimes.”
I put up a hand and stopped him. “You didn’t say anything wrong. You’re right. Eric’s gone. He did terribly things to me, but that shouldn’t stop me from moving forward, looking after myself and… and Humbug.” I’d nearly let it slip, I thought.
He nodded and let the topic go. We passed the evening avoiding potentially dangerous topics and enjoyed each other’s company instead, and I even managed to eat some of my main course, which pleased Harvey enormously.
He paid the bill, and we decided to walk and enjoy the twinkling city lights as evening set in. I crossed my arms over my chest, trapping as much body heat as I could when he pulled me in close. I was beginning to really enjoy our little walk together. I glanced up at him, but he wasn’t looking down at me, his stare focused ahead of us and his touch light against my body.
The silence allowed the thought of what had happened earlier creep back in, and I contemplated a potential pregnancy. If I was pregnant, could I raise a child that I knew had been conceived in an act of hate? Deep inside I knew there were choices out there. Several options if I needed them. I needed time, but depending on how far along I was, I might not have much of it.
I let my mind wander… there would be nothing wrong with keeping the baby, becoming a single mom. The thought of having a family of my very own gave me a tiny thrill, but just as quickly as it came, it withered away with the thought of our future. Could I do it alone? Was I strong enough?
As much as I loved having Harvey around, he could not be with me forever, looking after me and the baby. It wasn’t practical; he had his own life. Eventually he’d want his own family, and he’d build a life with another woman—Sadie perhaps. I was just his stepsister, his friend. I pushed the unwanted thoughts aside as we finally reached the office car park.
“What are you thinking?” Harvey asked, peering down at me with his brows furrowed.
“Nothing,” I said.
“You’re too quiet. You’re not normally this quiet. You know you can tell me anything, right?”
I smiled in spite of his worry. I reached down and took his hand in mine and squeezed his fingers, “I know I can.” But I kept my mouth shut.
Tuesday seemed a little better at first, but then I got to the office, and as I stepped out of the jerky elevator a rush of nausea washed over me.
Not again.
I quickened my steps and dashed for the ladies bathroom. My hand clamped down on my mouth as I ran down the hall, passing a startled Sadie along the way.
“The office is the other way… Sara?” Sadie called, but I couldn’t stop.
With a distracted wave of my hand, I pushed open the bathroom door, then dashed into a cubicle and puked my guts out.
Well there goes the dry toast I had for breakfast, I thought, as bits of crumbs floated in the bowl.
I waited again for the unpleasantness to subside, sitting with my knees upon the cold, tiled floor. I grabbed another roll of toilet tissue, wiped my mouth and picked myself up from the floor, completely disgusted with my body and what it was doing to me.
I stifled a gasp as I exited the cubicle—Sadie’s face met my gaze, her hands in her usual position, resting upon her slim hips. Her eyes narrowed, ran over me, studied me.
“Are you feeling better?” she asked as she stepped forward and without asking permission pressed an icy hand on my heated forehead.
“A little bit,” I admitted.
“Here.” She pushed a bottle of water towards me, and I accepted it with a grateful smile. “I have some breath mints at my desk you can have later.” I twisted the cap off and sipped, swilling my mouth out, then spitting in the sink, desperate to get rid of the bitter taste. I would not get used to that, I thought.
“Sit down for a minute,” she instructed and helped me back into a cubicle. After she flushed the toilet she pulled the lid down and sat me upon it, her hold light and soft against my flushed skin. “How are you feeling now?”
A flash of concern flickered in her beautiful eyes, and I’d managed just in time to bite down my question as to why she was being so nice. “I’m feeling much better, thanks.”
“So, what’s the deal?” Sadie asked, eyeballing me. “You sick or something?”
I shook my head and debated whether I should tell her or not. Letting anyone know, even a partial stranger, would be a blessed relief, but I had to remind myself I’d be working with her, technically for her, for the days and months to come.