Page 215 of Lovers' Dance: Vol. 2

“Because someone’s been nicking food that’s why.” he retorted. “Wait here, I’ll go get it.”

Watching him leave and willing him to hurry back, I sat down on the chair and drummed my fingers over my burgeoning stomach. Today was the 1stof March and I was approximately 25 weeks along…with the cutest bump, I kid you not, my pregnancy bump was a thing of beauty. 25 weeks of gestation to fraternal twins. Not many people knew, some of my permanent corp did, but my ongoing affair with loose-fitting sweaters made everything discreet. They were also probably scared to ask questions, automatically assuming it was an unplanned mistake and the father was a random. I was up the duff, as Liam would say.

And my bump, it was neat and trim, a testament to the lifestyle/career I led; maybe my mother’s genes. Dante was no longer stressing over my lack of girth. I forced him to watch some vlogs of women who were also pregnant with twins. One was a dancer, another a gym fanatic, the last woman…she didn’t say whatshe did but her bump was smaller than mine at the same 25 weeks junction. Of course, at my last growth scan, the mid-wife had warned me of a more than likely stomach ballooning occurrence. The babies were going through a growth spurt right now so I would just have to wait…ha ha, weight…and see. The anomaly scan hadn’t thrown up any issues, and although I was still suffering from anaemia, my pregnancy health was a-ok. Yay for me. The babies were fraternal twins, not identical, which meant they each had their own placenta and were extremely low risk for TTTS. Twin-to-twin transfusion syndrome was more likely with identical twins who shared a placenta, I knew this because I was on a research kick. It was also called FFTS, feto-fetal transfusion syndrome; knowledge was power.

The only worrying thing at the back of my mind was the possibility of ongoing strain on my joints. Oh yeah, I was dancing and would continue to do so until someone with a medical degree told me to stop.

“Hoisin duck wrap.” Gerrard chirped as he waltzed back into the canteen.

I did not snatch it out his hands, nor did I frantically rip the packaging off. Gerrard’s shock though, it registered after my first large bite of the wrap, his shock was palpable. Perhaps my enthusiasm for the duck wrap was a tad too much. Perhaps I was slightly rough in claiming his offered lunch.

Delicately dabbing the corner of my mouth with a finger I slowed my chewing down. After a swallow, I gave him a toothy smile. “These arereallynice.”

“Yes, they are,” Gerrard started backing out the canteen before delivering a teasing shot. “Piggy.”

“Hey.” I yelled as he disappeared from view. Piggy, my ass. I was a hungry, pregnant woman. I scoffed down both wraps, sneakily licked the tips of my fingers then wiped them on some tissue, all the while wondering if I could possibly manage a small food shop at Fortnum and Mason. It would be my one extravagant spend for the month. Mmm…the memory of their Himalayan salt-aged Glenarm Sirloin Roast…taste heaven.

I left the canteen, heading to my office and already mentally planning the junior’s dance class I would be teaching at 4:15pm. Being pregnant had sharpened my focus, brought crystal clarity to my muddled business acumen. Profitability. Dante loved the newbusiness me. Prices had been raised, and yes, I did feel guilty over the decision. Four new classes, beginners and intermediates, had been added to the schedule. Impending parenthood had forced me to assess my business outlook. It was all about the bottom line now. I had looked at the figures, raising a kid in England was expensive, raising two…thank goodness my dance company made money, otherwise I would have to sell one of my kidneys on Ebay or the Dark Net. Whichever forum kept me out of jail. Fricking Geoffrey…I still couldn’t believe his underhand dealings almost cost me my freedom. He was out on remand while awaiting his day in Court and I wanted nothing to do with him.

A tiny flutter in my stomach made me grin and I patted my bump in reassurance before starting to sort through the paperwork on my desk.

“It’s ok. Mommy isn’t going to do anything illegal, at least not until the heat has died down.” The soothing tone of my voice caused further fluttering, or so I told myself as the screen of my cell lit up. Unknown caller. Hesitantly, I answered. My number was new, as was my provider. “Hello?”

“Hi,” His voice was low and uncharacteristically nervous, it still made my heart race though. Maybe it always would.

“How,” I took a deep breath. “How did you get this number?” The silence conveyed his sudden amusement, which was weird, but I got the distinct impression he was amused.

Then he confirmed it verbally with a light chuckle and a dry, “It’s not that hard.”

I took another deep breath before saying, “Why are you calling me, Matt?”

He sighed, loud enough to express his frustration. “Have you given any further consideration-”

“I don’t want to meet.” I cut him off at once.

“I have to see you,” he said in earnest. “Please, I need to apologize face to face.”

“You’ve already apologized.” I countered, and he had, many times since last week hence my new cell number. “It’s fine.”

“Don’t,” He breathed down the line. “Don’t say it’s ‘fine’ because it’s not fine, this whole situation is anything butfine.”

“Ok,” I could agree with his comment. “It’s not fine, but we’re divorced now and it’s in the past. We’ve both moved on.”

There was another loaded silence on his end before he replied in the quietest of voices, “Yes, you have done so most emphatically.”

The insides of my stomach lurched, I decided it was gas and not the twins revolting over their mother’s behaviour.

“Poppet,”

“Don’t.” I said, sharper than intended, but it hurt to hear him use that moniker. “Just don’t.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing, Matt.”

The anger came from my own guilt. The guilt of continuing the lie. A guilt which had constantly plagued me from the moment Matt had called a week ago, furious and distraught. I had never thought him capable of such aching humility and murderous rage.

“I’ve left you alone as you asked,” he said. “But I believe it’s best for us to meet. Look, if you don’t want to see me on your own,” here he paused before grumbling out, “Palmer can join us. I need to see you.”

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