Logan

I always enjoyed spending time with Darcy, but I wasn’t looking forward to the summer ball. Part of it was because I would have to share her—she’d be busy all day with her guests, her brother, friends, nieces and nephews. And it was also because I knew how to navigate my relationship with her when it was just the two of us, not when we were surrounded by strangers.

I pulled up in front of the house and turned off the engine.

“She didn’t want you to help her set it all up?” my grandmother asked from the passenger seat.

“She’s got help. I would only get under her feet.”

I got out, rounded the boot and opened the door for my grandmother. “At least they’ve got nice weather for it.”

“Mrs. Steele.” One of the ladies I recognized from the village came over. “How wonderful to see you.”

“Grandmother, I’m going to park the car. I’ll come and find you.”

“Yes, yes. No fussing. Find Darcy and see if she needs anything.”

I wasn’t sure what my grandmother thought was going on—she’d never asked, probably not wanting to put any pressure on me. But she knew Darcy and I spent time together—and she did everything to encourage it.

I parked in the field allocated for cars and headed back up the gravel drive to the house. Looking for Darcy, I tapped on the partially open front door. “Hello?” The only response was a clatter of pans and muffled voices.

I grinned and headed down the corridor. The nearer I got, the more people seemed to appear out of nowhere, rushing by me with plates and trays. Today must have taken more preparation than I’d assumed. As I got to the kitchen, I scanned the people darting about but couldn’t spot Darcy.

“Mrs. MacBee, have you seen Darcy?”

She looked up from arranging food on a silver platter and frowned. “I think she went upstairs to change her shoes.”

“Thank you.” She always seemed to kick off footwear at the first opportunity so she was probably trying to find something more comfortable.

I turned and headed for her bedroom, where I was sure to find her in her dressing room, in a pile of shoes.

I hadn’t seen her all week, so catching Darcy on her own and stealing just a few minutes to hold her had the pulse in my neck beating a little faster than usual. I couldn’t wait to tell her how beautiful she looked, how perfect everything was going to be today. And then I could sink into the background and spend the afternoon with my grandmother.

“Darcy,” I called as I knocked on her bedroom door.

No answer. But if she were in her bathroom or dressing room, she wouldn’t hear me. I opened the door and called again. “Darcy?”

I stepped inside and found her bedroom empty, so stalked toward the dressing room. “Have you found some shoes?” I grinned, expecting to see her sitting on the floor trying to figure out if she could get away with wearing trainers, but there was nothing but a thousand dresses piled on the back of the pink velvet love seat.

I knocked on the bathroom door. “Darcy?” Twisting the brass handle open, I poked my head in, but that was empty, too. Where was she?

I caught my reflection in the mirror. My tie was a little skewed. I would probably be one of the few wearing a tie today, but Darcy liked me in a suit. And who was I to deny her? I stepped into the bathroom and faced the mirror properly, adjusting my tie so it was perfectly straight, then noticed a white stick behind the tap.

The pulse in my neck ramped up to a throb as I realized what I was looking at.

A pregnancy test. An open pregnancy test.

What the hell?

Grabbing the stick, there was a clear blue line in the results window. Fuck. Did that mean it was positive? Shit. I needed to find the instructions. I glanced around the room, peered into the bin, but there was nothing.

Shit, I had no idea if it was positive or negative. I pulled out my phone and began to Google how to read a pregnancy test.

My pulse raced in my neck as I found thousands of sites and pictures, each one with conflicting advice.

There was only one thing that was clear. She’d kept the test. Why would she do that if it was negative?

I grabbed on to the side of the sink.

I never wanted to be a father. I’d always been very clear about that. I couldn’t have anyone relying on me. Not a wife, and certainly not a child. I’d spent my life cleaning up after a man who didn’t deserve a family. I wasn’t about to start the cycle again.

I exhaled and stumbled back, my arse landing on the side of the bath.

My heart pounded against my rib cage like an incarcerated wolf and questions ran through my head at a mile a minute. Why hadn’t Darcy told me? How long had she known? She’d told me she was on birth control. Had she been lying? Had she been planning this?

I loosened my tie and undid the top button of my shirt, but I still couldn’t get enough oxygen in my lungs. I slung the test back where I found it and stared at myself in the mirror.

I needed air, space. I had to be by myself and think all this through. A cacophony of thoughts competed in my head and I wanted to pull each one out, examine and make sense of it. The last place I wanted to be was at a summer garden party where I was expected to be all charm and smiles.

One thing was for sure—I didn’t want to be a father.