Pregnant.

This woman was pregnant with my child. I gripped her hand tightly and cupped the back of her head with my hand. I guided her watery eyes to my shoulder, feeling her body press deeply into mine. I pulled her into my lap and sat there with her, trying to comfort her during this confusing time.

The strength she possessed was unimaginable.

It felt like a brick had settled into my chest. None of this was good. If Slate was looking for leverage, then he sure as hell had found it. Because there was no way on this fucking planet a woman carrying my child was going to do this alone. I was many things, but I wasn’t a man who abandoned a woman during a time like this.

I wasn't leaving her. I couldn't, and I wouldn’t.

I would do anything to keep her safe.

“It’s okay,” I said. “You can relax.”

“I’m so sorry,” Joanna said.

“Don’t be sorry for something like this. You have no reason to be. I take it your nausea is what’s keeping you from performing.”

I felt her nod before she wrapped her arms around my neck.

“How far along are you?” I asked.

“Six weeks.”

“Why was this not supposed to happen to you?” I asked.

She sniffled and sat up, her beautiful eyes meeting mine. My beautiful little songbird was pregnant with my child. Her beautiful body would change and morph as she grew my child within her body. Her breasts would fill with milk and her thighs would thicken with strength. Her stomach would protrude with life and her skin would glow like her eyes. Holy hell, she would be beautiful. Ripe with child and standing strong on a stage, singing as if her life depended on it.

There was an aura of strength and resolve around her that pulled me in deeper. Made me fall into her presence and want to stay at her side.

“I have a birth defect,” Joanna said.

“What kind?” I asked.

“It’s called a bicornuate uterus.”

“And that was supposed to prevent you from having kids.”

“That’s what I was always told,” she said breathlessly. “But… apparently not.”

“Is this going to make things difficult for you? This… bicornuate uterus?”

“It will, yes. Essentially, my uterus is bent in half. There’s a significant dip in the middle of the cavern. So… if you imagine a uterus like an upside down pear, that’s what it should look like. Mine is more heart-shaped. A very severe heart shape.”

“What does that mean for you?” I asked. “What can I do?”

She furrowed her brow at me and cocked her head off to the side.

“What can you do?” she asked.

“Yes. What can I do?”

“Do you want to do something?”

“Joanna, you’re carrying my child. I’m not sure how you thought this was going to go, but you’re not doing this alone.”

“I’m not?” she asked.

“No. You’re not. You shouldn’t have to, and you won’t. Not as long as I’m around. So what can I do to make this better for you?”

“There isn’t… um… wait, you’re not upset?”

“I’m shocked. Worried. But not upset, no. Whatever you need, I’ll provide. No questions asked.”

“I’m sorry. I’m still a little shocked.”

“Take your time,” I said.

“To um… answer your question. About what you can do. There isn’t anything. Right now, it looks like the little bean’s growing on the right side.”

“Little bean?” I asked with a grin.

“That’s kind of what it looks like in the pictures.”

“There are pictures?”

“Here, let me get them.”

She slid from my lap and I was reluctant to let her go. I watched her walked over to the vanity, her hips swinging and her hair falling in the frame of her face. She bent over to look in her purse and I caught the greatest glimpse of her ass. I felt my cock pulsing to life and I tried to take deep breaths. This was not the time to start that type of encounter. But fuck, how I wanted her. The idea of her carrying my child stirred the animal inside of me.

A primal desire that would take hours to choke back down.

“Here,” Joanna said. “They were taken this morning.”

I took the black and white glossy pictures in my hand and studied them closely. There was a small little oval shape on the picture bouncing around in this massive cavern. There were all sorts of pictures, ones from far away and ones up close and personal. There were dates on the sides of the photos. Possible due dates and conception dates and a label that said ‘high risk’.

High risk.

Joanna was going to be a high risk pregnancy.

I looked up at her as she sat down and I took in how beautiful she looked. The halo of hair around her face that framed the puffiness of her soft eyes. I had no idea how such a small woman could seem so powerful, but she did. Her shoulders were rolled back and her form seemed straighter. She wasn’t quite the young girl I remembered from six weeks ago.

She seemed to have aged.

To have grown up a little.

Holy shit. I was going to be a father.

“The last one sort of gives you an idea of what my birth defect looks like,” Joanna said.

My eyes dropped to the last photo and my eyebrows knitted together. She wasn’t joking when she said a heart shape. The dip in the picture was almost to the bottom of the photo. The little twirling oval was on the right side of the picture and I ran my thumb along it.

My child.

That my child in that picture.

“What kind of risks are there to this?” I asked.

“A lot,” Joanna said.

“Walk me through them,” I said. “What are we up against?”

I watched her eyes water and my hand rose to cup her cheek.

“No more tears. No more sadness. I’m not going anywhere and I sure as hell am not angry with you. But I want to be prepared. I don’t want anything to blindside me in all this.”

“There are a lot of them,” she said.

“A lot of risks.”

“Yes.”

“Like what?” I asked.

“Pain that can’t be treated. Preterm labor. A higher rate of miscarriage. Unexplainable bleeding. The baby only have one side of my uterus to grow in.”

Her hand came up to wrap around my wrist and I could feel it shaking. I took her hands within mine and brought them to my lips, kissing them in an attempt to settle her down. She needed to relax. She didn’t need to be immersed in any stress that wasn’t required. I settled her hands on my lap, then worked my hands slowly up her arms. Massaging them in an attempt to get her to relax.

Anything I could do to get her to relax.

She wasn’t joking. This was happening. She was pregnant with my child. An overwhelming sense of protection came over me. I had to make sure she stayed by my side. If Slate knew this was going on, she would be his number one target.

If she wasn’t already.

“Have you seen an obstetrician yet?” I asked.

“No, just a general doctor.”

“I’ll make a phone call in the morning. We’re getting you in to see the best obstetrician in Chicago, whoever that might be. I’ll have my secretary figure it out.”

“Robert, that isn’t-”

“The only thing you need to focus on tonight is sleep,” I said. “If your body is going to be up against those types of risks, we have to get you as relaxed as you can get. Any stress you experience with exacerbate all of that.”

“I know. I get it,” Joanna said. “But I want to stay for the performance.”

“You need to sleep.”

“I can watch it from the television in here. On the couch. But I’m not leaving Lacey. No matter what you say.”

“Who’s Lacey?”

“Lacey Bardot? The understudy? That’s who went on in my place tonight. Didn’t you hear the announcement?”

“I didn’t hear it past ‘Miss Leone won’t be taking the stage’. Do you know her well?” I asked.

“Besides the fact that we’ve been traveling together and got our degrees in the same music program? She’s my best friend.”

“So… you know her kind of well,” I said with a grin.

“I’m going to be here when she gets off stage. Like she’s been there for me all the nights I got off stage.”

“Joanna, you have a child you have to start thinking about.”

“And what better way to celebrate that child’s life than turning on that television and listening to Lacey blow the roof off this place?”

There was a stubbornness in her that was both alluring and frustrating. This opera wasn’t going to be over until almost eleven o’clock. I needed to get her into a bed somewhere in a place that I could control. A place where I could surround us with protective detail in case Slate came out of the woodworks. Fuck. I had placed this woman in an impossible position and I had no idea how I was going to tell her.

I had no idea how the hell I was going to tell this woman who I really was.

All I knew was I had to keep her calm. And if laying on a couch with her and watching a live oprea on a box television set was going to make her happy, then that was what would happen. For the first time in my life, I would compromise.

But I wasn’t leaving her side.

If she thought I was going back out into the audience, she was sorely mistaken.

“All right,” I said. “You can stay.”

“Not your choice to make in the first place, but fine,” Joanna said.

“I’m staying with you, though. I’m watching it here with you.”

“But you paid for your seat.”

“You don’t seem to understand. I’m not leaving you, Joanna. Not to go back out there and watch the performance and leave you alone back here. Let me get the television turned on, then we’ll get comfortable.”

I stood up from the couch and pressed the ‘power’ button on the television. The quality was shit and the audio wasn’t lined up with the picture, but the smile on Joanna’s face was worth trudging through the poor picture. I sat down on the couch and Joanna scooted into me, her body curling deep into mine. I cradled my arm around her and pulled her close, feeling her warmth penetrating my suit. So long as she was here, I could protect her. So long as I had my eyes on her, she would be okay.

No matter what I had to do to to resolve this shit with Slate, Joanna was going to be okay.

Her and my unborn child.