Page 1 of The Baby Bargain
Chapter One
Ariel
"I'm sorry, Ariel." Phillip's voice fills with apology.
He holds my gaze for a second—less even—then his eyes shift to the clean white tablecloth.
This is a nice place. The kind of place that covers its square tables in actual cloth. That sets a candle between lovestruck diners. That adorns its brick walls in images of Italian actors.
It's not a place where you sayI'm sorry, Ariel.
This isn't a conversation that starts withI'm sorry, Ariel.
My boyfriend is awkward, but he's not that awkward. He's not stupid enough to start a proposal withI'm sorry, Ariel.
I press my palms into my dress. It's red and tight and expensive. Forest helped me pick it out. Even though he doesn't think Phillip is good enough for me. Even though he doesn't think I'm ready to get married. Even though he doesn't think an Italian restaurant in Marina Del Rey is a nice enough spot for a proposal.
I try to find my boyfriend's gaze, but his eyes refuse to budge. He watches the candle cast shadows over the white tablecloth.
It casts highlights over his face. His angular chin, wide nose, dark eyes, black hair.
He's so handsome. And more than that, his face is familiar. I know every shade of brown in his eyes. Every grey in his coarse hair. Every curve of his soft lips.
I know this expression.
It's notI'm sorry, Ariel, but I couldn't find the ring you liked. It wasn't available in your size—did Holden tell you I asked? Or was it Forest? Your brothers are gossips.
It's notI'm sorry, Ariel, I should have picked a nicer restaurant.
It's not evenI'm sorry, Ariel, but I need more time.
I know the words before they're out of his mouth.
"I can't do this." Finally, he pries his eyes from the table. Stares at me with those soulful browns. "It's not you."
It's not me? That's ridiculous. I'm the one with the ticking clock. With the ultimatum. With the expiration date that changes everything. "Then what?" I want to believe him. I want it to be something else. His parents. School. Friends.
Anything but my sudden need for a baby.
"I love you." He reaches across the table. Places his palm on mine.
His tan skin covers my pale fingers.
Much like my namesake, I'm as pale as the moon. I can't sing, or hold my breath, or move with grace, but I have the pale as the moon thing down.
Phillip is Vietnamese. He's darker. I always loved that. The way our skin tones contrasted. It was just sexy.
God, I'm already thinking in past tense. We used to look perfect together. The pale math geek and the tan doctor. Same black hair. Same five-foot-seven frame. Same love of nature documentaries.
Now this.
I stare at his hand. I can't move my eyes. I can't move my lips, my shoulders, my feet.
This doesn't make sense. It's been three years. We've talked about it. Sure, I'm changing the timeline, but what's that matter?
We both want this.
Or we did.
