My heart was beating hard against my chest. My stomach started to roll with another wave of nausea. But I didn’t know if it was the baby or my nerves. I ushered Robert into my room, watching as his tall form strolled in. He didn’t shove his way in like he had last time and he wasn’t looking at me with that predatory gaze.

It was like I was looking at a completely different person.

What was he doing here? Why had he been trying so hard to get back to see me? A man I never thought I’d seen again was now standing with me in a small dressing room and he was fighting security guards to get to me. And with the sound of his voice that ricocheted down the hallway, it sounded as if he wasn’t going to stop until he got what he wanted.

Until he got to me.

Maybe he wasn’t so different after all.

His body filled the small space, his presence overwhelming. My knees were growing weak and my tears were filling with nervous tears. I hadn’t planned on telling him. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t think it would make a difference. I had no idea how to get in touch with him and I figured he was only for the moment. A man sent to open my eyes to another side of me I’d never pictured there before getting back to our lives. It happened. It wasn’t glamorous or romantic. Certainly not what I dreamed about during college when Lacey was regaling me with her conquests. But it was what it was, and the experience was unique to me.

And I treasured that.

I was faced with a different task now. I was faced with looking this man in the eye and telling him I was pregnant. Something I was still wrapping my head around. Pregnant! With my birth defect.

Never in my wildest dreams.

I shut the door and leaned into its strength. The silence between us was tense. The room was dimly lit and the darkness was overwhelming. I could hear everyone bustling around outside, getting ready for our last performance of the touring season.

A performance I should’ve been giving.

“Why aren’t you performing?” Robert asked.

“I’m not feeling well.”

“Are you sick?”

“You could say that,” I said.

“What does that mean?”

I closed my eyes and drew in a shaky breath. I leaned into the door, pressing my forehead against it. I wasn’t scared. That wasn’t it. I simply wished to be another person. The stage was calling for my body but I couldn’t be on it. The crowd was applauding the drop of the first dissonant chord, yet I wasn’t being ushered onto stage. My heart was tugging me toward the stage but my gut was dropping me here.

In the presence of a man that was still as intoxicating as the night I indulged in him.

“Joanna.”

“I’m so sorry, “I said breathlessly.

“What?” Robert asked.

My jaw began to quiver as the tears brimming my eyes leaked down my cheeks.

“Something like this wasn’t supposed to happen with me.”

“What wasn’t supposed to happen? Joanna, look at me.”

“This was supposed to be impossible. They told me it was impossible,” I said. “I wasn’t supposed to be able to have this kind of life which was why I chose the profession I did. I chose to travel and sing and tour the country because it filled a gaping hole in my life I had no other way to fill. I was empty inside and music helped to fill that cavern and I’ve clung to it ever since. This wasn’t supposed to be possible. Every doctor told me this wasn’t possible.”

Tears were streaming down my face as I turned my back fully to Robert. My hand was on the doorknob, ready to throw myself out into the hallway. I couldn't look at him. I didn’t want to see the anger or disappointment that would swell in his eyes. Because the truth of the matter was I wasn’t disappointed. I wasn’t worried or fearful or upset with myself.

I was elated.

Ecstatic that I was going to have a child. And the idea of having that moment tainted by a man made me sick.

Sicker than this pregnancy was making me.

The warm sensation against my hand ripped me from my trance. I opened my eyes and looked down, watching a tear drip onto the hand sliding into mine. It was massive. Warm. Calloused from years of hard work and etched with lines of age. Robert curled his fingers around my hand and pulled it from the doorknob, turning my body to face him.

Then, his finger crooked underneath my gaze and lifted my eyes to his.

He cupped my cheek with his hand and brushed away my tears. His touch was gentle. Kind. Not aggressive or wanton like it had been that night. His stormy gray eyes were dark with the dimly lit room and I could see my face reflected back into them. My reddened cheeks streaked with tears of anxiousness as his hand laced our fingers together.

He led me to the couch, our bodies settling down onto the cushions.

His eyes were intense. His gaze was penetrating. I wiggled underneath it, my eyes falling to our intertwined hands. I could feel his pulse beating against my wrist. I could feel his body warmth radiating against mine. I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, trying to settle the shaking beginning in my legs.

“What life are you talking about?” Robert asked.

I opened my mouth to speak, but nothing came out. I whipped my gaze up to his and found I couldn’t look away. Those strong eyes and his reassuring grasp. His set jawline and his chiseled shoulders. Even underneath the tailored suit he wore, there was an animal. A beast waiting to set itself free. A man who understood the need for reserve and a man who wasn’t afraid to unleash what he knew was within him.

I closed my eyes and drew in a deep breath, finding my courage in the notes I could hear Lacey belting from the stage.

She sounded phenomenal, and I wished I was out there cheering her on.

“A life with children,” I said.

I felt Robert squeeze my hand and my eyes fluttered open. His thumb started tracing small circles on top of my skin as his face approached mine. His forehead leaned against me and I supported his weight, feeling him fall into me as I braced my body. This unwavering man, clad in sinewy muscle with his eyes closed, leaning against my sickly body as he held my hand.

There was something raw about the moment that gave me the courage to say it. Maybe it was the high notes rising from the stage or the tension brewing between our bodies. Maybe it was the way he restrained himself and gave me time to gather my thoughts or the way he seemed pained by the tears dripping down my face.

Either way, I knew I could do it.

I had to. It was my only other option.

“I’m pregnant, Robert.”

There was no going back, and I was ready to embrace whatever he had for me. Whatever speech he had about how he couldn't stay or whatever revelation he had about a family that already existed. I was ready for it. My actions came with a price, and it was a price I was fully willing to pay. I was going to have a child. I was going to carry a piece of myself into this world. I was going to get the chance to be a better mother than mine was to me.

I was going to get the chance to fulfill the one want I never thought I’d be able to.

And nothing he could say would take that away from me.