you’ll come to resent. No, let me finish,” she added when he opened his mouth. “You love your freedom. You love being able to pick up and go away on assignment. I totally get that. But I need someone constant, to really be here. Fly-by parenting doesn’t work. I know that firsthand. A child can’t just be an appointment in your schedule, someone you see whenever you have a spare few weeks.”
He stared at her for the longest time, until he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his eyes narrowing. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Which part?”
“Oh, just about all of it.” He braced his hands wide apart on the table and pinned her with his dark gaze. “Don’t tell me what I feel, Kat. Sure, I love my job, but it’s just a job.”
“Are you kidding me? Soccer is your life. It’s a part of who you are. You would die if you couldn’t do it.”
“You say that like I’d be giving it up. Which I’m not.”
She sighed. “And we’re back to where we started. Being Marco Corelli takes you all over the world. You’ll be away from your child for months on end.” Away from me. She prudently swallowed those words.
“So what’s stopping you from coming with me?”
She blinked. “I have a job, in case you’ve forgotten.” Boy, he just didn’t let up, did he? Her head whirled with all the scenarios, emotions running riot until she had to take a mental step back. It was all just speculation, pipe dreams. She couldn’t make a decision based on that, not when she might not even have a future.
The black moment engulfed her, stealing her breath so suddenly she shoved to her feet.
It was too, too much.
“I can’t think. I need some air.” Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked down the hall to her room.
Thoughts still churning, she pulled open a drawer and rummaged through the clothes she’d left from her last visit. She took a denim skirt and white linen shirt from the chest of drawers, slathered on sunscreen and then swiftly changed. When she emerged fifteen minutes later, Marco was nowhere to be seen.
After digging out sunglasses from her handbag and picking up yesterday’s newspaper, she stalked over to the patio doors and slid them open, thankful Marco was not around.
That was good, wasn’t it? It meant a respite from the questions she had no answers to. A break from thinking for once. And a reprieve from those annoying emotional responses that kept hijacking her thoughts whenever he smiled, shoved back his hair or touched her...or...
Simply breathed, it seemed.
With a deep sigh, she stepped outside. The tiles that ringed the eternity lap pool warmed her feet and the morning air teased over her bare arms, making her hairs stand on end.
Blinding sun speared across the deep blue ocean, the sky unmarred by clouds. She shoved on her sunglasses and assessed the now-familiar storm debris scattered over the deck and tiles, the leaves and filth floating in the pool, and then padded over to the small storage room, removed a broom and pool skimmer and set to work.
It was good to have something to do, and she set to her cleaning task with singular concentration. The sun shone brightly down, making her sweat through her shirt as she first swept the deck and surrounding tiles, then took up the skimmer and went to the pool. By the end of the repetitive skim-and-tip, her shoulders pleasantly ached and her brow was damp. Finally, she walked over to a lounge chair and settled back with the paper.
Five minutes, that was all it took, and her mind began to drift back to what she’d effectively avoided the past hour.
With a sigh she closed the newspaper, folded it and stuck it under her leg.
“Test results aside, do you want a baby?” she asked herself aloud now, as if by voicing the question, she was giving it the proper gravitas.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Pause. “Kat,” she added, her voice dipping lower as if she was conducting a self-interview, “are you thinking about what
He stared at her for the longest time, until he ran a hand through his hair in frustration, his eyes narrowing. “That’s ridiculous.”
“Which part?”
“Oh, just about all of it.” He braced his hands wide apart on the table and pinned her with his dark gaze. “Don’t tell me what I feel, Kat. Sure, I love my job, but it’s just a job.”
“Are you kidding me? Soccer is your life. It’s a part of who you are. You would die if you couldn’t do it.”
“You say that like I’d be giving it up. Which I’m not.”
She sighed. “And we’re back to where we started. Being Marco Corelli takes you all over the world. You’ll be away from your child for months on end.” Away from me. She prudently swallowed those words.
“So what’s stopping you from coming with me?”
She blinked. “I have a job, in case you’ve forgotten.” Boy, he just didn’t let up, did he? Her head whirled with all the scenarios, emotions running riot until she had to take a mental step back. It was all just speculation, pipe dreams. She couldn’t make a decision based on that, not when she might not even have a future.
The black moment engulfed her, stealing her breath so suddenly she shoved to her feet.
It was too, too much.
“I can’t think. I need some air.” Without waiting for his response, she turned and walked down the hall to her room.
Thoughts still churning, she pulled open a drawer and rummaged through the clothes she’d left from her last visit. She took a denim skirt and white linen shirt from the chest of drawers, slathered on sunscreen and then swiftly changed. When she emerged fifteen minutes later, Marco was nowhere to be seen.
After digging out sunglasses from her handbag and picking up yesterday’s newspaper, she stalked over to the patio doors and slid them open, thankful Marco was not around.
That was good, wasn’t it? It meant a respite from the questions she had no answers to. A break from thinking for once. And a reprieve from those annoying emotional responses that kept hijacking her thoughts whenever he smiled, shoved back his hair or touched her...or...
Simply breathed, it seemed.
With a deep sigh, she stepped outside. The tiles that ringed the eternity lap pool warmed her feet and the morning air teased over her bare arms, making her hairs stand on end.
Blinding sun speared across the deep blue ocean, the sky unmarred by clouds. She shoved on her sunglasses and assessed the now-familiar storm debris scattered over the deck and tiles, the leaves and filth floating in the pool, and then padded over to the small storage room, removed a broom and pool skimmer and set to work.
It was good to have something to do, and she set to her cleaning task with singular concentration. The sun shone brightly down, making her sweat through her shirt as she first swept the deck and surrounding tiles, then took up the skimmer and went to the pool. By the end of the repetitive skim-and-tip, her shoulders pleasantly ached and her brow was damp. Finally, she walked over to a lounge chair and settled back with the paper.
Five minutes, that was all it took, and her mind began to drift back to what she’d effectively avoided the past hour.
With a sigh she closed the newspaper, folded it and stuck it under her leg.
“Test results aside, do you want a baby?” she asked herself aloud now, as if by voicing the question, she was giving it the proper gravitas.
“I don’t know. Maybe.” Pause. “Kat,” she added, her voice dipping lower as if she was conducting a self-interview, “are you thinking about what
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