Fuck.

I can’t seem to escape Henry in Dubreva. It seems like no matter where I go, he manages to pass me or be in the same spot. And when I think I’ll be all right—such as going to the hospital to talk to an obstetrician about my pregnancy and see my options—I find that he’s here as well.

I want to kick myself. Of course he’d be going to the hospital. He’s still recovering from his injuries from the wreck, and judging by the way he’s dressed and the slight sheen of sweat on her brow, he’s probably here for physical therapy.

I should have guessed.

I freeze in the hallway as our eyes meet. I’m not at breakfast with Jessica, and I look like I’m about to leave, so there’s no reason why he wouldn’t approach me to talk some more. And if we talk, I have to tell him the news.

I don’t know if I’m ready for it.

I cross my arms behind my back, hiding the Women’s Clinic pregnancy brochure, praying he didn’t see it. It would raise a bunch of questions in the hallway—questions that needed to be answered in private.

I actually liked the clinic. A lot. I met with Dr. Yamamoto, an obstetrician who had been practicing for thirty years. He had a very easy-going approach to childbirth—not that any of it is easy, but he said that he’d do his best to accommodate my wishes in the delivery room.

“I want you to have your baby your way,” he told me. And that is such a different way of thinking than I had at my doctor’s office in New York.

I hate to say it, but I am happy with the options here for my pregnancy. And that’s another tick that goes in the column of me accepting Jessica’s job.

I don’t want to admit it to myself, but I am feeling like moving here is the right thing to do. I’ll be far away from my family and pretty much on my own to take care of this baby, but at least I’ll have the means to take care of my child. And why wouldn’t I want to live in one of the wealthiest countries in the world?

But then there’s Henry to wonder about.

And as our eyes meet, he asks in wonder, “Catherine?”

I gulp and manage a smile, my heart fluttering at the way he says my name. “Hey,” I say. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”

He quirks a small grin. “Well, I’ve been spending a lot of time at the hospital these days.” He pats his leg, the one that seems to be causing his limp. “This isn’t all I need to rehab,” he says, “but it’s giving me the most trouble.”

“I’m sorry about that,” I say emphatically. Truly, I am. I hate hearing that he’s in pain.

“I’m on the mend though.” He gives me a curious look. “What are you doing here? This isn’t really a touristy spot.”

I lick my lips. “I’m, uh…Well…”

You have to tell. You have to tell him.

No, I can’t say it here. I can’t tell him something that will change his life. Not when everyone can hear him. And I have no idea what his reaction will be. I remember the hotshot billionaire prince that I slept with that night—that’s a man who doesn’t expect to have babies anytime soon.

And I have no idea how he’ll take it.

My throat is dry, and I can barely say anything. “I’m…checking out the doctors here.”

He raises an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Jessica offered me a job.” I can at least say that and he blinks in surprise. “So I’m seeing what’s available. Weighing my options.”

He nods slowly, coming to grips with it. He doesn’t know what kind of doctor I’d be seeing here, but I can tell that he’s puzzled by it. Confirmation that he couldn’t read the brochure. “Sounds good,” he says. “Well, I hope you’ll find Dubreva to be a lovely place. I think it could be a good career move for you. I hope you’ll stay.”

My heart flutters again. I can’t let this go on any longer. “Hey,” I say, “we should probably catch up. About that night.”

He scratches at his ear, and I find it oddly endearing. “Yeah, I meant to call you last night, but my physio drove me into the ground, and—”

“That’s all right,” I say quickly, cutting him off. Hoping that there’s nothing else to what he was about to say, like, ‘I had a date’ or something. I mean, we’re not together or anything, but the thought of him dating someone makes my chest hurt.

“We should probably talk,” I say softly. “Like grab coffee or something.” Except, I just saw that I can only have a certain amount of caffeine. Have I had any coffee today?

This catches him off guard. “Uh, sure. Like, right now?”

He looks down at himself, at his sweats and his shirt, probably thinking that he’s not wearing date attire. If I wait any longer, I’m going to lose my nerve and that’s the last thing that needs to happen.

Not that this is going to be a date in any case. So I just nod. “Yes please.”

He nods. “Okay.”