Page 113 of Until He Confesses

"Did you order something to drink already?" I asked. "If not, what bottle should we get?"

She went silent, forcing me to look up, and then she shook her head.

"No alcohol for me tonight," she said. "I'm trying to recover from the craziness of Paris."

"Craziness?" I asked. "You were really tame in Paris."

As I said these words, an intense flashback of pounding into her as she ground her hips on top of me came to mind, and I had to correct the assessment because she wasn't exactly tame, especially in bed.

We paused our conversation as the waiter came and took our order. As soon as he walked away she continued. "I might have been tame, but nothing else was," she met my gaze once again.

I considered her words carefully, which made me suspect once again that perhaps she received more of a shot than anticipated from the exposure at the fashion show.

Refusing to seem too curious, I pushed this thought aside as our meals arrived.

I enjoyed mine but couldn't help wondering why she ate hers so sparingly.

Midway through, she got up and headed to the bathroom. I noticed then that she had stuck to fruit juices all evening. When she returned, I had to ask.

"Are you sick?" Her eyes widened in alarm when I asked the question, and I wondered why.

"No," she responded, shifting uncomfortably. "W-why do you ask?"

I didn't know how to explain that I could sense something was off with her, and that it was the last thing I wanted to admit, so I ignored the inquiry altogether, and we continued with our dinner.

Eventually, it came to an end, and I asked if she wanted dessert. She hesitated, but then she finally responded.

"I do. They make the greatest soufflés, but it's something I want to eat later on, not now."

Once again, I didn't know exactly why she was giving this specific explanation because it didn't seem as though small talk was her intention. It never was, and so I simply nodded in response.

She continued to watch me, and I could no longer take it. I needed to know what all this was about.

"Why did you want to see me?" I asked. "Do you still want to talk in my office, or is here okay?"

Her gaze lifted slightly in thought, and then she said the one thing I wanted to hear.

"I booked a room upstairs. For us. We can take the soufflé upstairs and have it afterward."

And just like that, my lips curved into a smile. I tried to restrain it, but I couldn't. She returned it, but I couldn't help but notice that there was a tinge of sadness in it. Regardless, I paid the bill, and we headed up.

54

CALLIE

Istill hadn't made up my mind about what to do, but what I did know was that I wanted this time with him, even though I strongly suspected it would be our last. As the evening wore on and I became even more certain of how I felt inside, I became more unhappy, especially when we got into the room, and I watched him begin to strip. He exuded the kind of virility that wasn't easily found in average people, and I was so proud to be able to attach myself to someone like him. However, he wasn't all bells and whistles and song. I couldn't ignore the ringing that came with who he was, and I had to act accordingly.

Now, more than ever, as I watched him, I was sure of one thing, the fact that he still very much had a place in my heart. It was a hold on me that I had spent years trying to pull out, and only now, as the decision to part ways from him once again was pressed upon me did I realize that he was still firmly lodged in there like he'd never left.

I doubted he was ever going to know, especially with the little secret I was carrying in my belly, but it still didn't give me the courage to say what I wanted to him or myself, and that was the fact that even if we were no longer together, I didn't want to get rid of the baby. It was his seed, and I loved the man enough to want it to flourish within me. To have a very real reminder of what he was to me.

This was my decision, but I still hadn't fully come to terms with it myself yet, and I doubted I would until maybe it became too late to do something about the pregnancy or I began to show. The nausea was slowly fading, but the cravings were insane, and as soon as I got enough of watching him, I lowered onto the bed and rolled the cake to me. I ate for a little while as he headed to the bathroom, and then he came out bare-chested but with his pants on, though they were unbuttoned and hanging off his hips. He was already hard, the bulge straining against the fabric, and I yearned to have him in my mouth, but then again, at this point, I yearned to have a lot more things than usual in my mouth. This made me smile to myself, which of course only served to alarm him.

"What's wrong?" he asked, and I looked up, impressed at how observant he was. I was able to convince myself that I was acting normally and would probably appear so to others, but not him and this was comforting and thrilling in the same way, but none of it mattered as this would be the last time. I put my foot down and made the decision, otherwise, life was about to become even more exhausting for me.

"Let's make love," I told him but addedone last timein my heart. He looked at me as though what I had said was strange, and only when he pointed it out did I realize my words.

"Let's make love?" One of his eyebrows was slightly cocked, and a slight dread hit me.

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