was such a rarity Liam sat there like a useless lump and watched in horror, unable to move. She was the strongest woman he knew. She’d faced tough battles her whole life and she never tired of fighting. No matter how ridiculous her plan sounded, his heart twisted to see her hurting. ‘You know how much I need this, Liam. I thought you’d understand. I thought you’d support me. You know, like good friends do? I’ve been there for you regardless and I kind of hoped you’d feel the same.’ Her hand reached for her gut again. ‘This idea? This is a good thing.’
It was the worst thing he’d ever heard. ‘And so who is going to provide the …?’ He couldn’t bring himself to say the word. For an accomplished medic he had trouble imagining what went on behind closed doors at the IVF clinic.
‘Sperm? I’ve decided I’m going to ask Malcolm.’
‘What?’ Liam almost choked on his beer. ‘Your boss?’
‘And that’s wrong, why? He’s smart. Not unattractive. Owns a successful IVF clinic and has helped thousands of women achieve their dreams, so he’s compassionate too. Those are all the right kind of genes I’d look for in a father for my child.’
‘He’s still also your boss.’
She hip-planted both hands. ‘And I’m pretty sure he’d want to help. He sees this kind of thing every day, so to him it’s not an unusual request. I’ll ask him to sign a contract to keep things simple. I have enough money put by to keep me going for a while and the clinic has agreed to reduce my hours after maternity leave.’
Maternity leave. Contracts. That sounded far from simple. And the money she had put by was supposed to be for renovations to help her become more financially independent. ‘Seems like you have it all figured out.’
‘He knows how much I want this. How much I need to know DNA and family history. It’s been my life’s dream. Just a little … expedited.’ She gave him a smile at their shared joke.
Liam didn’t feel much like laughing. Sure, she’d talked about this on and off over the years but now the reality hit him in the gut like a two-ton truck. She wanted a baby. A family. Kids. ‘Surely asking your boss is downright unprofessional. Unethical.’
‘A friend helping a friend? Since when did that cross any kind of line?’
‘Where would you like me to start?’ It crossed more lines than Liam cared to think of. It would be like … like if he offered to father her child. Ridiculous. Ludicrous.
Wouldn’t it?
The thought flitted across a corner of his mind. He pushed it away. Ludicrous indeed.
‘Malcolm saw how upset I was at the results.’ As she spoke she seemed to loosen up a little. Determined, but calm. ‘I’ve asked to have a meeting with him next week. If he says no then I’ll have a rethink.’
‘It sounds messy to me. How about using one of the anonymous donors at the clinic? You get to know about their family history, too. You can choose anyone that ticks your fifteen pages of boxes.’ He didn’t know why someone anonymous fathering her child seemed like a better option. It just felt better. A long way from right, but better. ‘And why didn’t you ask me?’
What the hell?
He didn’t even know where that question had come from. As she stared at him his chest tightened.
‘Is that what this is all about? You’re upset because I didn’t ask you? Honestly? The man who comes out in hives when he even sees a baby?’ As soon as the words left her mouth she closed her eyes and pressed her lips together. Too late. After a beat or two she slowly opened her eyes again and winced. ‘Oh, my God, I’m sorry. Really. I’m sorry, Liam. I am. I didn’t mean … I’m so sorry. But I just know how you feel about families.’
‘Do you?’
She looked surprised at his question. Probably because he’d kept his past to himself and never spoke about what he wanted for the future. But families and babies were something he definitely had an aversion to. No, not an aversion, just a deep desire not to go there. Ever.
Her voice softened. ‘Since you always refuse to talk about anything deeper than what you had for lunch, I have to surmise. You have a track record of emotional avoidance. So I’ve always assumed that big loving, meddling, messy, happy families aren’t something on your wish list. In all honesty, you’d be the last person I’d ask. And, judging by your current reaction, I think I’m right.’
***
Liam’s face was all shadows and hollows. His blue eyes had darkened to navy. Only once before had Georgie seen him look so utterly haunted, and that had been the day they’d met and she’d forced him to work on that newborn.
Later that night, when they’d gone for the first of many subsequent beers, the alcohol had made his tongue loose and he’d mentioned a family tragedy involving his sister, Lauren. But then had clammed up so tight Georgie had never been able to open him up to that particular hotspot conversation again. And since then he’d absorbed whatever it was that had thrown him off balance that day. Until now.
His voice was low when he eventually spoke. ‘I just think you could have talked to me about it all first. Put more thought into it.’
‘I don’t think that’s possible, it’s all I’ve been thinking about for weeks, turning scenarios over and over in my head.’ She watched as anger and hurt twitched through him until he wrestled it under control. Why couldn’t he just smile and pat her hand and say what a brilliant idea it was? Her words had obviously been a low blow. She’d always respected that he had his reasons for not wanting a family, even if he’d never really fronted up and explained why.
Some support would have been nice, but hadn’t she heard this kind of story so many times at work? Babies, IVF and the sometimes desperate journey towards parenthood made strong couples stronger and weak ones fall apart.
Then thank God she and Liam weren’t a couple because, judging by this conversation, they’d fall at the first hurdle.
He was her friend, her closest friend in lots of ways; she always took his advice, always went to him with problems. And now she was all kinds of confused, needing time to think and reaffirm.
She stood to leave. ‘Look, this was clearly a mistake. I’m going to go home so we can both take some time out. I’m sorry if I’ve ruined our Friday night. But, you know, I don’t know where we’d go from here. Trying to play your wingman and find a date for you with some poor unsuspecting woman just isn’t my idea of fun right now.’
He tipped his glass towards her again, but he didn’t get up. Didn’t try to make her feel better. And he always tried to make her feel better.
Which was why his opposition was spooking her more than she’d anticipated. Still, she’d made this decision and she was sticking with it.
She had no choice. This was her life. Her chance.
And to hell with him if he wasn’t going to be there right when she needed it most. She threw her wrap round her shoulders. ‘I’ll … I don’t know … see you later?’
He watched her stand. He still didn’t move but his voice was more controlled as he gave her a small smile. ‘Heaven help us all when you start taking the hormone injections.’
‘Oh? Why?’
‘Aren’t they supposed to make you all antsy and volatile?’
‘What?’ She couldn’t bring herself to tell him she’d been taking them already. And, yes, she was being antsy. But it was his reaction that had made her like that, not the medications. ‘Maybe, just maybe you have royally pissed me off. And to add insult to injury, you’re now being condescending. Patronising.’
‘Just honest. As always.’ Yes, she supposed he was. One of things she relied on him for was his frank honesty. ‘So when is it all happening? The impregnating