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Adele gave Nick his jacket back on Monday. He’d been so helpful on her first day in the London office, introducing her to the people in both their teams. They’d be working closely, and he’d bring her up to speed quickly, with his on-the-ground knowledge.
Still wired from a busy day, she didn’t want to go back to her empty apartment and sit there alone, so she asked Nick if he knew any place to play squash. They used to play at Uni, but there was no guarantee he still did.
He perched on the edge of her desk. “There’s a great gym in the next block. I play there regularly, usually with Jordan.” He nudged her with his elbow. “I’d normally play tonight, but Jordan’s away for a long weekend. I’ve got my kit with me, if you fancy a match.”
It was way better than the alternative, and she nodded. “Yeah, that would be good. What time?”
“I’ve got a standing booking for six-thirty. Should I call for you at your apartment? We can walk down together.”
How did Nick know where she was staying?
He must have seen her surprise. “Jason tells me you’re in the same block he’s in. TM-Tech keeps apartments there for visiting execs.”
“That’s okay then.” She pretended to scowl. “Just checking you hadn’t turned into a crazy stalker.”
“No stalkers here.” He checked his watch and headed for the door. “See you soon,” he called from the doorway, and she waved back.
Adele had time to go back to her apartment, before Nick arrived.
“Hi,” she said. “It must be all of fifteen minutes since I last saw you.”
“Wanted to make sure you weren’t cancelling on me. I take my squash seriously.” There was his usual cheeky smile.
She adopted a firm voice. “Not as seriously as I do. I shall take great pleasure in humbling you this evening.”
“Brave words.”
It made sense to invite him in for the few minutes it would take to throw her kit together. He wandered around and checked out the compact space. While Adele dug through her bags for a travel sized bottle of shower gel, he sprawled on the sofa and flicked through a magazine, keeping up a steady chat.
The registration process for the gym was quick and painless, and shortly after, they walked onto the squash court.
Adele was relieved to find they were evenly matched. She was more flexible at the stretch shots, but he could hit harder and with more brute force. It was the best workout she’d had in months, and she felt no shame when Nick pulled ahead in the closing minutes.
It seemed natural to have a drink and snack afterwards. There was still a lot of catching up to do. Adele could have sat here all night with him, but it was almost nine, and he had to go home.
He walked back to her apartment with her, dropped a friendly kiss on her cheek, and disappeared towards the Tube station. It was sweet how easily they’d resumed their friendship, as though the last twelve years had passed in the blink of an eye.
She’d never considered Nick as boyfriend material back then. He was always the flirt, chasing women as easily as he did a squash ball, but maybe he’d changed. He was married, after all, and to the nicest person—or so he said.
Maybe Adele should have hung on to him when she had the chance.
****
Nick whistled happily as he walked the short distance home from the Tube station. Adele made him work hard on the court this evening, her game strategy different from the way Jordan played.
Life was good. Lara was enjoying her temporary management role, and working alongside Adele would be fun.
He was home a bit later than usual for a Monday. Would Lara be cross? Nah. They had the perfect relationship. It had been Nick’s idea to instigate an Honesty Policy, which meant they could talk about anything and everything, in a frank and open atmosphere.
His stride faltered. He wasn’t entirely honest when describing Lara to Adele. She wasn’t just lovely. Lara was the smartest woman he knew. Her mind could flit across a myriad of subjects as rapidly as his. She was his intellectual match. She’d also resisted him from the beginning, which had been a huge novelty. Marrying her was the best thing he’d ever done. The sex was awesome too.
Even so, he was a little taken aback when Lara threw herself into his arms and kissed him deeply, before tugging him by the hand into the lounge. Her hair bounced as she walked. It always reminded him of the gleaming hair in shampoo ads. His wife was gorgeous.
“Hey. You’re pleased to see me,” he said, looking around. She’d lit scented candles, and a bottle of champagne sat in an ice bucket. It must be the promotion. “Sorry I’m late. We had drinks afterward.” Nick caught her by the waist and pulled her to him, running one hand through the soft silkiness of her hair.
“Did you beat Jordan this time? Will you see more of him now you’ve been promoted? Maybe you could introduce me sometime.” She smiled, her face lighting up.
He should tell her he played with Adele and not Jordan, but before he could say anything else, she dragged him down to sit next to her on the sofa.
Holding his hands, she gazed into his eyes. “I have something to tell you.”
Her great mood was hard to resist. “Go on. You’ve booked us a holiday?”
She gave him a coy look. “I had to go to the hospital today...”
Nick felt a cold hand creep around his heart, and he squeezed her fingers in alarm. “Are you ill?”
“No, silly.” She tossed her head briefly, and her hair bounced some more. Her beaming smile looked as though it would split her face. “I’m pregnant.”
What the fuck? It was the last thing he expected. Or wanted. Rational thought deserted him. Speech fucked off too.
Lara was talking twenty to the dozen—something about a scan and a heartbeat. How excited she was. What brilliant timing. How pleased she knew he’d be.
He managed to force out one word. “How?”
Her laugh was fond and happy. “Well, Nick—darling—it was the usual way. The way women normally get pregnant.”
That wasn’t what he meant.
She giggled. For some reason, she thought this was funny. “Would you like me to draw you a diagram?”
Nick snatched his hands away and stood. He couldn’t look at her.
“Nick?” She still sounded happy.
How the fuck did this happen? He might be able to string a coherent sentence together by now. He turned to face her and spoke rapidly. “I thought you were on the pill. You said you were on the pill.”
She had the grace to blush, though her smile was still undimmed. “I’m not very good at remembering to take it every day. I missed a few, then had to wait for my period before my cycle could get—”
“There’s no mistake?”
“No, darling.” She stood and walked to him her arms outstretched, but he stepped away.
“Why the fuck didn’t you tell me? We could have used condoms. What happened to the fucking Honesty Policy?”
For the first time, her smile faltered. “Nick, you are pleased, aren’t you? We said we’d talk about starting a family.”
“Yeah, but talking is one thing. This is another entirely.” He paused, to moderate his tone. “I can’t believe you went ahead and did this without letting me know. What the fuck were you thinking of?”
Lara’s face coloured. He couldn’t tell if she was angry or upset. “We did this together,” she said. “We’ve made a baby together. I didn’t do it by myself.”
“You might as well have. I didn’t know we were having unprotected sex. Jesus Christ. I don’t believe this.” They’d have to move to a bigger house. Get a higher mortgage. His pay raise would be gone completely, and then Lara would probably want to give up work, and he’d be the sole wage earner.
They were about to upgrade his car to a gorgeous BMW Z4. Not much chance of that now.
One part of him wanted to hold her and apologise for what he was saying. The rest wanted to run like the wind.
They stared at each other for a long moment. “When?” He was back to one word at a time.
“I’m around six weeks, so the baby is due May or June. It’s a little early to tell precisely.”
“Fuck.” His future life flashed before his eyes in a series of images. Nappies. A pram. A car seat—goodbye Beemer. Sleepless nights. Baby sick and crap everywhere. Schools. Endless trips to the swings and to the doctors. No more social life. No holidays. No lazy Sunday mornings in bed. No life.
“I’m not ready for this.” Nick spoke slowly and carefully, enunciating his words as though he were drunk. “If I asked you to have an abortion, would you think about it?”