Page 71 of Things We Do for Love and Science
Things were going to improve. The ever-present thoughts of Gabriel would dissipate. She would learn to endure the dull ache of longing she woke up with every day because his warm body would never again rest beside hers.
By tacit agreement, neither had contacted the other since the night of the charity ball. She sensed he was hurt beyond what she had ever imagined possible. His icy silence was testament to that. Her high hopes for rescuing their friendship were dashed, and there was deep, debilitating pain in that loss.
Things between them had shattered to pieces because they hadn’t been able to agree on a definition for that feeling of warmth and connection, trust, joy, and erotic compatibility. It was a crying shame, and cry she did, often.
She banished the gloomy thoughts from her mind and made her way into the kitchen. Her plans for the day were simple: breakfast then off to work. If she focused her mind on more productive matters, she’d get through it.
The postcard on her fridge door brought a smile. Sandra had sent her a view of Munich with the majestic panorama of the Alps in the background. At least Sandra was having fun. Delia missed her. The daily grind in the lab was drab without her.
Maybe Delia should visit her during semester break when she was temporarily rid of her teaching responsibilities. It’d be enjoyable to stroll through a new city with an old friend. She was curious about the research Sandra was doing at the institute.
They’d been in contact via email but had both been too busy to arrange for a proper video call. Once Sandra was settled, Delia would suggest going over. She’d book a room in a hotel; she didn’t want to encroach on Sandra’s private space.
Christmas break would be good. Bavaria’s Christmas markets were legendary, and why not be a proper tourist for once? Come to think of it, she hadn’t been out of the country in ages, not counting trips to conferences.
She opened the fridge and nearly gagged at the odor. There wasn’t any rotten food in there since she’d only cleaned it the other day. She slammed the door shut, walked to the kitchen window, and opened it wide, breathing deeply. Was she sick, or what was happening?
A glass of water would have to do. She’d have a late breakfast in the canteen once she finished her first lecture of the day.
When the students filed out of the lecture theatre, Delia followed the command of her rumbling stomach toward the canteen. But even before she reached the entrance, the aroma of fried garlic made her hurry in the opposite direction.
She purchased a packet of salt and vinegar crisps from the kiosk and devoured it. Mid-crunch, she froze.Holy hell, this can’t be possible.Statistically the chances were slim and yet...
How ironic that the one time she and Gabriel had slept together without the intent of conceiving a child should have resulted in a pregnancy. Neither of them had thought of using protection. They’d been careless, but she couldn’t bring herself to regret it.
She dropped the crisp packet into the next bin then hurried to the campus pharmacy.
~ * ~
Delia appeared in frontof Gabriel’s door like a mirage, two months after she had left him without a word of goodbye. He swallowed back a bitter greeting and composed his facial expression into one that hopefully reflected calm politeness.
“Hi, Delia.” He sounded cold, even to his ears.
She exuded a nervous energy laced with some contrasting emotion—happiness? “So sorry to come by unannounced, but I was afraid you wouldn’t see me, and I have to tell you this in person. Gabriel, I’m pregnant. We’re going to be parents.”
Intense joy ambushed him and swept him to her. “Oh, Delia.”
He embraced her but drew away again before the feel of her in his arms and the scent of her hair ensnared him once more. Because he was tired of banging against the walls of her fortress. No more futile hope.
He stepped back to the threshold of the gatehouse and turned his head at approaching footsteps. Vanessa rushed to his side, and he took her hand to anchor him before he could be drawn into Delia’s magnetic field.
He glanced at the woman to his left. “This is Vanessa, my former fiancée. We’ve reconciled.”
He sensed Delia’s shock almost bodily and suppressed a brief, violent flush of vindication. She hadn’t wanted him then, and he was certain she didn’t want him now, but the news affected her, nevertheless.
She stared at him, gulped, and put her palm on her chest as if she needed to hold her heart inside its cavity. “I wish you all the love in the world,” she whispered. “You deserve it, Gabriel.”
Good God, this woman—everything she did, every gesture and word went under his skin. He closed his eyes, and when he opened them again, she was gone.
Vanessa let go of his hand and grabbed his upper arm instead. “Let’s get inside. It’s freezing.”
He followed her in a daze, rubbing his hand over his heart. Delia was pregnant. That one night, that one unplanned encounter, had done it. What were the odds? But he wasn’t the only one in shock. Vanessa’s feelings must be in uproar as well.
He lengthened his stride to catch up with her. Together, they returned to the living room where they’d been watching a movie. He snatched the remote from the coffee table and switched the television off.
Raking his fingers through his hair, he paced the room, trying to get a handle on his warring emotions. Vanessa sat on the sofa, straight and still, regarding him warily.
He stopped his pacing and sat beside her. “I understand if this changes everything for you. I’m going to be a father, and I want to be an involved co-parent. I’ll be with the child every other weekend, and during the week whenever possible.”
