Page 214 of New Storm Rising
“Not helping!”
“Indeed?”
“That word is not a cure-all for situations in which you have no frigging clue what to say!”
“Indeed.”
“One more time! One more time, Mister, and you’ll be sleeping in the doghouse tonight! And I’mnotspeaking metaphorically!”
“In…ehem!” Quickly, I caught myself and brought my vocal cords to an abrupt halt. “In fact, Mrs Ambrose?”
“Oh, yes, Mr Ambrose, Sir!”
So, this was probably not the correct time to extol the virtues of the word “indeed”, then.
Fixing her heated gaze on me, she stared straight into my eyes.
“Why?” she demanded again. “Why didn’t you tell me before? I know that you barely manage to pull your teeth apart more than twice a day, but somehow, I don’t think that’s quite enough of a reason to not tellyour own wifethat she’sbloody pregnant!”
Silence reigned.
My silence, in case it wasn’t clear enough.
She narrowed her eyes at me, searching my face with scorching intensity. Then suddenly, a light flashed in her eyes. I felt my heart drop. Could it be that she had guessed the truth? Could she know how afraid I was to face the reality of becoming a father?
“You…!”
That expression on her face… She haddefinitelyguessed the truth. Tarnation!
“You had a bet with Karim on how long it would take me to notice, didn’t you?”
I blinked.
Note to self: do not try to interpret my wife’s facial expressions ever again.
“Ehem. As the inhabitants of this land are wont to say, Mrs Ambrose, I plead the fifth.”
“You—!”
She drew back her hand—and probably not in preparation for a hug, unless one-handed hugs that aimed for a man’s face were a new fashion of which I was unaware. Immediately, I moved and captured her hand in mine, pinning her in place with my gaze (and, just in case, my hands as well). The prospect of a feminist fist to the face was not a pleasant one. Leaning forward, I stared straight into her eyes, trying to convey to her that what I was about to say was the absolute truth, truer even than my secret fears of fatherhood.
“And…”
“Yes?” She looked up at me, her eyes wide open and vulnerable.
“I didn’t speak because I knew it would be better to wait. To give you time to realise what was happening and come to terms with it on your own.”
Emotions flickered over her face like flames in a fierce wind. First surprise, then warmth, followed turmoil that was about to overwhelm her.
“You…you bloody son of a bachelor!”
“And you,” I told my wife, capturing her cheek in my free hand, “are my littleifrit.”
At those words, the last bit of grievance on her face was washed away, and she sank into my arms, holding me tightly, as if I were her tower of strength. Suddenly, in that moment, I felt as if being a father might not be such a bad thing after all.
***
The dark figure watched from the shadows as, out on the sunny street, the couple held each other in a tight embrace. It was an incredibly romantic picture. One that could touch the heart of the coldest of men. And yet, the dark figure’s eyes remained as cold and hard as steel.
