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The more I was left to my own devices and free to wander and preoccupy myself with anything I could find in the building on any of the residential floors, the more I wondered how Maxim would react.
Not just to the news that I had been pregnant all this time, but also how he’d feel about becoming a father.
Other than Anastasia, no other family members showed up. And it made me wonder if he had any parents anywhere else.
I have to ask.My determination to get some answers built within me, and I debated how and when I could start a conversation with Maxim about what would happen with my being pregnant. He was clear that it was why I was here—to get pregnant. So it wasn’t farfetched for me to want more details.
The bottom line remained the same.
I wouldn’t be able to just give him my baby. This new life growing inside me wasmychild too, and I would never give himor her up. I couldn’t bear to think of not raising my own little one.
So long as Maxim could guarantee that he wouldn’t take my child from me, I could… admit defeat, like he’d worded it.
If he could compromise to promise that I wouldn’t just be the woman who bore him a child but also the woman who would raise him or her, then I wouldn’t really need to fight for my independence after the fact.
What aboutyou,though?
As soon as I started to think about giving up trying to leave and just staying here for the sake of my baby, I dreaded that I was sacrificing my own happiness.
Maxim cared for me.
He provided for me.
But what about love?
It stung to think that he’d only want me around to give him a child, but nothing more.
I felt so petty and silly to get carried away with questioning my own worth, but the more that these worries filled my mind and heart, the more I had to confront how badly I wanted him to want me just forme.
I couldn’t take the unknowns like this forever. Feeling like I was running out of time, with a guess of when I’d start showing as my pregnancy progressed, I decided to plan a perfect night to just tell him the truth once and for all.
Carefully making a dinner that he said was his favorite of mine, I worked with the kitchen staff to have it delivered to hisapartment. Without a phone, I had no way to text him and see when he’d be home, but he told me that morning that he’d be back no later than ten tonight.
And so, I planned.
With the food prepared and waiting under domed dishes to keep it all warm, I paced in the living room and debated whether I was laying on the charm too thickly.
I’d ply him with a late dinner, prepared by my hands.
I’d butter him up with a private dance just to set the mood.
And once he was sated and calm and as happy as I could guess he’d ever be, I’d start to ask him the questions that had been building up in my mind. I wouldn’t set out to get him to commit to me. But I had to have some direction about what I could expect in the long-term here.
“What’s all this?” he asked, arriving and startling me with how stuck in my head that I was.
I spun, smiling at his expression of surprise. He took in the sight of all the food on the table.
“You made this?” he asked, smiling as he lifted his head to watch me.
I nodded, noticing how his gaze changed. Gone was that look of surprise and pleasure. Now, as I approached him in the sexiest, shortest dress I could find, he gazed at me like he was hungry for something else.
“And what isthis?” he asked in a raspy whisper as I hugged him. He kissed my shoulder, sliding his finger under the thin strap of the dress and letting it fall low.
“I was just thinking it’s been so long since I’ve danced for you.”
He kissed my shoulder again as he snaked his arm around my waist to pull me close.
“It’s been too long,” he answered as he sat.