Page 104 of Duplicity

I don’t even know the kid yet.

That changes now, too.

If the poor little thing is stuck in a hospital room, hooked up to machines, then that’s what I’d call a captive audience.

MARLOWE

Waking up next to Brendan is less charged than last time. There’s no cuddling, for one—it looks like he stuffed a bolster between us after I fell asleep—but I’m hoping that means there won’t be any of the previous fallout, either. No callous words or dismissive behaviour.

I take my bag into the bathroom and change back into a clean set of clothes. Before we left the hospital, Brendan ordered me to bring all my and Tabby’s dirty clothes along for the hotel to launder. I stuff them into the cotton laundry bag in the wardrobe. My pride is not above accepting more clean underwear.

‘How are you feeling?’ he asks, looking me over. He’s back in his pristine t-shirt and blue jeans.

‘Like a different woman,’ I answer honestly. ‘I can’t thank you enough.’

He looks away. ‘You never have to thank me.’

It strikes me that we’re in a weird hinterland. I’m still his EA, but my job description has just been ripped down the middle. I’m technically on leave, but if Brendan insists on staying here for the next week or so, which frankly strikes me as ridiculous, then he’ll have to work from here and I have no intention of letting him do that alone.

‘Can I ask you a question before we head back?’ he asks. The solemnity on his face gives me pause.

‘Of course.’

He sits on the bed and pats the space next to him. ‘Come here.’

I sit. ‘What is it?’

‘It’s a personal question. Are you comfortable telling me what the score is with Tabby’s father?’

‘He’s not in the picture,’ I say quickly. While I haven’t missed Joe as a lover for a very, very long time, weeks like this make me curse his irresponsible, unfeeling soul for leaving his daughter in the lurch like that. ‘Never has been.’

‘Athena said that. She wouldn’t tell me anything else, though, except to suggest it happened at uni.’

‘That’s right.’

He sighs. ‘It’s no excuse at all, but I imagine a lot of teenage guys are pretty useless when you ask them to step up to a pregnancy.’

‘He wasn’t a student. He was my professor.’ My voice is small. Flat. I know how it sounds to be the girl who got knocked up by her professor, like I was either a seductress or a clueless ingenue. I look down at my hands on my thighs. My fingernails are wrecked from chewing on them the whole way through Tabby’s op.

There’s only silence, and I glance at Brendan. He’s looking at me, stunned.

‘Your professor got you pregnant and bailed on you.’ He grits out the words.

I shrug. ‘Basically.’

‘That fuckingwanker. Jesus Christ, love. I’m so bloody sorry. Was it a one-off? Do you mind my asking?’

‘No, it was a… relationship. Well, not a proper relationship, it turns out, because he was married, which I knew, and he had no intention of ever getting serious with me, which I didn’t know. It was all very cliché.’ I give an awkward little laugh. ‘He was my personal tutor and a lecturer in baroque music. Very cerebral, cultured, charming… and very married.’

Brendan exhales like he’s in pain and puts his hand on top of mine on my thigh. ‘This okay?’

‘Yeah.’

He wraps his fingers around my hand, and it gives me the strength to continue. ‘He didn’t hide it. Wore a ring. Said he was unhappy, yada yada. He targeted me, sought me out, and it didn’t exactly take long for me to roll over. I’d only slept with one person before him,’ I whisper.

‘Hang on. I’m only the third person you’ve slept with?’

‘Not that it’s about you, but yes,’ I say, embarrassed.

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