Ding-dong. That blasted doorbell sure was getting a workout this week. Tamara chose to ignore it. Note to self: take batteries out when whoever was out there had gone.
She could understand Conor’s exhaustion. If indeed that was all that had tipped him off his feet earlier—and the jury was still out on that. Fatigue dripped off her, leaving her body barely able to drag itself around the flat. There was no energy left in the tank to entertain a visitor.
If Kelli had come bearing wine and food for a girls’ night of chatting then sorry, but she wasn’t coming in. Tamara huffed a sigh. Drinking was out these days with a baby under her belt. Not that she’d ever indulged much.
Ding-dong.
If it was Conor then tonight she wasn’t able to face him and the endless questions he’d have about where she was with planning the future for her and baby. Especially when he hadn’t been forthcoming about that episode in ED knocking him sideways. They both had to be upfront, not just her. Hell, Conor had spent the remainder of the shift barking at just about everyone who moved, while sending her strange looks that had explained absolutely nothing. And reminded her not to trust him too quickly.
Ding-dong.
‘Go away.’
Her phone pinged. Conor.
I know you’re in there, Tamara.
Ding-dong.
The door hit the wall when she tugged it open. ‘Not tonight, Conor. You had your space, now I want mine.’
The guy just walked on in, like he hadn’t heard a word she’d said. ‘Not happening.’
Guess he had heard then. ‘Excuse me? You think you can walk all over me as you choose?’ Like Peter had. She growled, ‘Don’t walk away like that.’ The words were strong but her voice lacked real grit. Damn, this toughening up wasn’t as easy as she’d hoped.
Conor spun back to face her, hands on hips like earlier in the day. ‘I am not walking all over you. What I am doing is making certain you understand I will be a part of this, that I will always support you. I will not be shoved away.’
‘I don’t remember shoving you anywhere.’ She had tried to push him onto the bed when he’d been having his moment in ED.
‘Just so you’re fully aware. After what you told me today about your ex I want you to know I stand at your side.’
She’d take her time over that, assimilate more about him and how he reacted to situations and other people. ‘Right. Message received loud and clear. Now can you go?’
‘We have things to discuss, and I for one do not believe in putting them off.’
‘Oh, really?’
Conor swallowed hard. ‘Yes, really. Delay only leads to worry and more problems.’ He stared at her, as though waiting for her to fold. ‘We already left talking about the baby last night.’
He had a valid point. Unfortunately. But she wasn’t folding. Shoving her chin out, Tamara said, ‘Fair enough. But be warned, I’m shattered and will kick you out the moment I need to go to bed.’ Like about now. Oh, and make that go to bed alone. Two in her bed would require energy and trust and knowing where they were headed with baby. Which led right back to what Conor had said as he’d walked in.
‘I hear you. Not everything is going to go my way.’
‘You’re onto it.’ This new her, the stronger version, the less trusting type, seemed to be working. Amazing what pregnancy did to a girl. If she had to be a mother, then she’d give it her all to be the best.
Closing the door, she headed for the lounge and the big recliner to curl up in. Comfortable was the only way to go.
She didn’t make it that far. As she stepped past him Conor caught her hands gently, shook her softly. ‘Look at me, Tamara.’
Then she’d be lost. He’d be able to demand anything.
No, he wouldn’t. Less trusting until you know more about him, remember? Charm doesn’t cut it when dealing with major decisions.
The gaze she met was serious, with tenderness hovering at the edges. Her mouth dried. Why hadn’t she met Conor before Peter? Her life might’ve been so different. Now all she could do was put her baby first. ‘Yes?’
‘How are you keeping? You hinted at morning sickness when I phoned early. Other physical discomforts?’
Knock me down with a feather.
He was doing nice to perfection. A ruse? She stared at him, delved into that gaze, searched for lies. Got only honesty. She didn’t think she was wrong. Not with Conor. Or was that more wishful thinking on her part? She’d go with it for now, see where it led. ‘Like I said, I don’t do breakfast any more. It has a habit of regurgitating.’
‘Hence those big morning teas you’ve started indulging in this week.’
Tamara nodded. ‘I get a bit tired. Otherwise all’s good.’ She made to pull her hands free. His hold was compelling and she didn’t want to throw herself at him, needed space between them.
Conor had other ideas. His hands tightened around hers. ‘You won’t have been to a midwife or your GP yet.’
‘Give me time. I’ve only known since Friday and the first hurdle was to let you know.’
‘Hurdle?’ Hurt crossed his eyes. ‘I’m an obstacle in all of this?’ Now her hands were free, dropped like hot coals as he stepped back from her.
‘Wrong choice of word.’ When he continued to stare at her, she hurried to explain, though not a hundred percent sure what her problem was. There were too many of them. Sigh. ‘I’m getting my head around the fact I’m pregnant. I still have no clue what you’re thinking about becoming a parent.’
‘Not good enough, Tamara. It was always going to be a shock for me, which I’m supposing it was for you, but you’re coming through it, as I will.’
She moved past him, dropped into her chair. ‘I’m going to be completely honest, though you might not like what I say.’
‘Can it be any worse than what you’ve already hit me with?’ He took the chair opposite but didn’t relax back into it, sat instead with his elbows on his knees, his chin in his hands.
‘Any worse? I get that an unplanned pregnancy is the last thing most of us want, but it’s not the end of the world,’ she snapped. ‘I want this baby now that I have it growing inside me.’
It was true. It was true. Her hand spread across her stomach. She hadn’t allowed herself to believe that one day she’d be a parent, yet it was happening. Oh, my.
‘I’m going to do everything possible to look out for this baby.’
‘You’re days ahead of me, but I do not want to get rid of it, if that’s what you were implying.’
So much for thinking they were starting to get along quite well. They didn’t understand each other at all. ‘I wasn’t.’ Silence crept into the room as she strung her thoughts into a cohesive statement. She had one shot at explaining herself. Finally, ‘I told you about my past and what Peter did. What I didn’t go into was the screw-up I became afterwards, and mostly still am. I used to trust everyone, now I trust no one. Hence all that dithering about my med school application.’ She locked her eyes on his. ‘Do I trust you to do the right thing by our child? Absolutely.’ She paused, swallowed hard.
Damn you, Peter. You ruined everything for me. But, then, you wouldn’t give a toss, would you?
‘I hear a “but”...’
Again silence reigned. Until she gathered up her courage and told him the truth. ‘I am afraid of what you might want to do regarding our child. Will you try to take him from me? Go back to Ireland with him? I’m going with calling the baby him for now as I hate saying it.’
Conor’s face was tightening, his eyes darkening dangerously, but he refrained from uttering a word.
So she continued, digging a bigger hole. ‘Do I trust you to do the right thing by me? I...’ Swallowing the bile building up in her mouth, she tried again. ‘Honestly? I want to. I want to believe in you, but I don’t
believe in my judgement.’ She sank back, huddled in on herself, becoming small and tense. No sign of her new, stronger backbone, but, then, she had managed to put the truth out there so she had to get points for that. Didn’t she?
‘Firstly, I will never take the baby away from you.’ Conor ground out the words through clenched teeth. ‘Just so you know,’ he added with as much anger as she’d ever seen in him.
‘Thank you.’ Did she trust him on that score? Yes, she thought she did. ‘I didn’t really think you would, but as I said I have trouble believing everything first time up.’
Any relief was short-lived. ‘Whether I return to Ireland with my child—and you—is something I cannot say yet. But you should know I’ve always intended returning home at some stage. For good.’