Then, if the child was mine, I would want to be a part of it. There’s no way in hell I’d let the baby think he or she was a Westwood when it was truly half of mine and not Ashton’s.
“She’s pregnant, and she didn’t care to tell me this significant detail herself?” I instantly got up, almost kicking the chair out of my way as I strode towards the glass, gazing down at the river Thames, truly not seeing anything due to the mere thought of my baby—my child—growing inside of Ava.
An immediate rush of protectiveness filled me, as if it was my own right to make sure that this would pan out the way it should and not in Ashton’s favor. Never again would this man make me inferior and unworthy. He could very well do it to Ava, but I wouldn’t let him do the same to my unborn child.
“The details are irrelevant, as you stated yourself. Why don’t you simply sign the damn form so we can move along with our lives, shall we?”
How could he act as if this wasn’t about something important? He was adamantly telling me I should give up my rights forever because I had told the mother I didn’t want anything to do with her. Well, the rules had changed.
“I can tell you now that I won’t ever sign it.” My parents would disown me themselves if they found out I had toyed with the idea of throwing away my own flesh and blood for some other man to take care of. “If this is truly my child, nothing will stop me from fighting for what is rightfully mine.” With that, the meeting with Ashton was immediately cut short.
Being a father wasn’t something I had favorably put in the forefront of my mind. Of course, I had plans to marry and have children someday, but never had it occurred to me that the day would happen much sooner than expected. Moreover, my mind had never dreamed up that the child’s mother would be the woman I had vowed never to see again. Seeing her only brought the ghosts out, and I’d much rather keep them inside, locked in the closet and never peeping a sound.
Ava was the symbol of my past and my idiocy, and whatever happened from here on out, I would never put her on a pedestal again. Fool me once, shame on me. Fool me twice, blame it on me. Fool me for the third time, I’m obviously a man without aim.
Chapter 19
Ava
I had barely slept a wink since I had found out I was pregnant two days ago. In the very beginning, when I realized my period was late, I was actually afraid the doctor might tell me something along the lines of ovarian cancer or something that would indicate as to why I couldn’t conceive for so long.
When she had beamed at me, delivering the news that I was actually in the early stages of pregnancy, I had thought it a cruel joke at first. Then, when she had kept insisting that I was, I couldn’t believe it, not until she had showed me the cutest, tiniest bean sprouting slowly inside my womb.
I was pregnant. I’m actually pregnant! I was having a baby, and I was going to finally be a mom, just as I had dreamed for so long. My excitement had kept me awake most nights, weighing the options of telling Reiss himself, but I always came to the conclusion that it was best I kept this to myself in case he demanded I hand over the child, or worse yet, he actually stressed that maybe getting it terminated would be suitable for both parties since he loathed me to Hell and back.
Covering my lower stomach with both my palms, I rubbed it gently, hoping it would ease the baby’s worries away as well as mine. “I’ll protect you with my life. I promise,” I whispered softly. “Nothing will come between us. It’s you and me against the world, my love.”
Instinctively, my stomach growled, making me grin senselessly as I acknowledged it was time to eat something light. It was half past ten, and on most nights, I was on my own. Ashton visited me on a daily basis and still persisted on mending things with me. I had wanted freedom before, and after learning about the baby, I wanted it even more.
I understood Ashton’s argument, pointing out that the baby could very well heal both of us, that it was what we had been waiting for and we could still have what we had wanted from the start. To me, though, it was already too late. Nothing could patch us, even if the very thing that had drawn us apart was my drive to becoming a mother. He had let the resentment fester inside me for two years, and I simply didn’t want to harbor any ill feelings towards him any longer. I just wanted a fresh start with no one telling me what to do.
I had accepted that things with Reiss would never be; therefore, it was best not to hound him about this new development, even though it was a major development. I was convinced he’d someday appreciate this effort. Eventually, I’d come to my senses and tell him. As for this moment, I only wanted to bask in the warmth and enjoy this downpour of love I had for my unborn baby.
I still had a lot of qualms about carrying it full-term because a lot could happen during this delicate stage, but I would do anything in my power to keep it safe. After all, apart from wanting Reiss to be alive again, this was all I had ever wanted.
Drifting into the bar area, I lazily opened the fridge and took out a half pint of chocolate milk. I never could fully fathom drinking fresh milk without adding cocoa powder or strawberry syrup. I supposed, I had spent too much time as a kid wandering about the kitchen, full of curiosity, excited about the idea of anything and everything chocolate. Through the years, my mother would hire cooks that were meticulous about their pastries; thus furthering and enabling my education about its rich velvety goodness.
I was on my fourth sip of my favorite drink, reminiscing about the past as I secretly longed to have the same experience with my child, when I heard three hard, pounding knocks on the door. Since the doorbell wasn’t used, I knew this visit was more than likely personal. Could it be Ashton?
He’d been rather pushy, to a point where I found myself wanting to lessen my time around him. It bothered me a great deal that he wouldn’t agree to a divorce or let alone tell our parents we were thinking about it. Deep down, he harbored a great deal of hope in resurrecting our marriage; however I couldn’t see myself with him anymore. True, I still loved him and maybe a major part of me always would, yet living with him wasn’t very enriching nor was it a happy life. Coming out tonight wouldn’t change my mind, even if he begged me for the hundredth time.
Besides, he was due back for work, and he definitely needed to get a move on. Wasting all his time and effort trying to win me back would result in nothing. I had already made up my mind, and I was sticking to it, come Hell or high water.
Strolling towards the door as I held the bottle in my left hand, I took a dragged intake of breath as I gradually opened it just as I started saying, “Ashton, it’s late, could we please do this some other time when I have the energy to listen to—” My words became suspended mid-sentence when my gaze landed on greens and not the usual blues I was so accustomed to.