HER EVERY FANTASY

‘I just wanted you that night, Collins. I’d gone off the pill months previously. No need for it. When I told you it was safe, I meant to gel a morning-after pill the next day.’ She sighed, doubtful he could understand how she’d thought and felt afterwards.

‘But you didn’t,’ he quietly prompted.

‘No. You were gone without a word to me. Call it madness if you like, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it.’ She managed an ironic little smile.

‘If a new life had been conceived by us, I felt it was meant to be. And I guess if I miscarry now, that’s meant to be, too.’ she added.

Tears welled up. She quickly rolled her head across the pillow, turning her face away from him, swallowing hard to hold in the wave of grief.

He would probably be relieved if she lost the baby, relieved to have no permanent tie on his plate. It was only she who wanted the child, loved knowing it was growing inside her, cherished the life she and Collins had made together.

‘Please go…please…’ she choked out, fiercely telling herself not to weep. It would knot up her muscles and she had to stay relaxed, think of the baby.

She’d answered the critical questions, freed him of all responsibility.

She heard the scrape of his chair and the squeeze on her heart grew even tighter. He was leaving. A sense of utter desolation swept through her. A fool’s dream… to think he might love her.

Then she felt warm fingers stroking down the hand lying closest to where he’d been sitting, strong fingers spreading hers apart, interlacing, gripping. ‘I left you in the past. Jasmine. I won’t leave you alone tonight,’ he said gruffly. ‘You just rest now. I’ll watch over you. Make sure nothing more goes wrong and I’ll help in any way that I can’

She shut her eyes tight, but the tears spilled through her lashes and trickled down her cheeks. If he was angry with her, he wasn’t showing it. Caring flowed from the heat of the hand holding hers and she was too weak to reject it. Caring might not be love but somehow it eased the emptiness that dragged at her, the fear of what she might be told tomorrow.

He stroked her hair with his other hand-gentle, soothing caresses.

Rest now, he’d said, and his uncritical acceptance of her situation helped. Even his silent company helped. She felt no judgment in it, orher mind was too stressed out to sense any judgment. It was simply good to be assured she was not alone in a strange hospital, in a foreign country. Collins was here, looking after her.

——-

She was fast asleep. The hand Collins still held had slackened into limp passivity some time ago. He’d been reluctant to let it go in case she stirred again and panicked at the sense of being on her own. Jasmine was in L. A.- a huge distance away from her family and friends-because he’d called her. She hadn’t contacted him about her pregnancy. It was his call that had brought her here. He fell his responsibility for taking care of her very keenly.

Her breathing was slow and even. Assured she was unlikely to awake for a while, Collins slowly slid his hand from hers and stood up, needing to stretch his stiff muscles, walk around the room a bit. A nurse had dropped by to check on Jasmine and switched on a night-light when she saw the patient was settled. Everything was dimly visible. He could walk without bumping into furniture, and keep an eye on Jasmine for any slight disturbance.

His mind was hopelessly clogged with the idea of her carrying his child -a tiny life inside her, which was under threat of ending before it had the chance to grow into what it could be. A son. A daughter. His son or daughter. He was stunned at how possessive he was coming to feel about it now that the initial shock had worn off.

Shades of his father?All rights © NôvelDrama.Org.

Wanting himself immortalised by having a child with his genes step into his shoes?

Collins fiercely rejected the reflection. He would never be like his father in that respect. It was wrong. But what he’d done to Jasmine was wrong, too… taking all she’d give then leaving her without a word. That stark little statement had really stung him. It hadn’t been an accusation, just the simple truth.

Like everything else she said.

Simple truths.

She was too direct and honest to try to trap him.

And the one lie she had told-the safe lie-the truth was he hadn’t wanted that night stopped any more than she did. If she’d told him she had no contraception, would he have left her to buy a packet of condoms? He shook his head, not sure of the answer, recalling how he had pressed her to absolve him of such a necessity.

So he could walk away afterwards without any concern. Oh, he’d done a truly excellent job of that. Not a word to her… until two months later when he’d wanted her again.

He suspected his call had thrown her into one hell of a dilemma- whether to tell him or not. He hadn’t given her much chance to do so over the telephone. And he certainly hadn’t been encouraging down at Santa Monica. But for the threatened miscarriage… would she have told him at all?

Had she told anyone?

He stood at her bedside, scrutinising the face that looked so peaceful and innocent in sleep, hiding her secrets. What did he really know of her? Only that she got to him as no other woman ever had. Was that enough to commit himself to a lifetime partnership?

If this pregnancy ended in a miscarriage… did he want to let Jasmine go?

Should the baby be saved…? A primitive possessiveness surged over any reasonable train of thought. No way was he going to walk out of the life of his child. He had to secure his rights as a father. If that meant marriage… well, he wasn’t averse to the idea of having Jasmine as his wife. At least the sex was great, though sex wasn’t everything in a marriage. Adjustments would have to be made.

Whatever arrangeme nt they came to, he would take care of her… take care of both her and their child, make sure they wanted for nothing.