BEST FRIEND’S BROTHER

His eyes narrowed, then dropped lower, until he was staring at her stomach, although the pregnancy wasn’t visible yet, and she felt the force of his shock, the reverberation of his confusion. It slammed into the room, slammed against her, and if she weren’t so consumed with her own feelings she might almost have felt sympathy for him.

“Yes.” She answered the unspoken question, her voice slightly shaky as she repeated her words. “I’m pregnant.”

He was silent for no more than a split-second. “Congratulations,” he said evenly. “Who’s the lucky man?”

Sasha stared at him. “Excuse me?”

“The father,” he explained. “Of your child.”

Sasha shook her head in disbelief and the French plait in her hair felt as heavy as lead as it snaked down her spine. Even in her very worst nightmares she could never have dreamed that he would be so insensitive. “Why, you are-of course.” she said. “You are the father,”

His eyes swept shut, almost as if he could wipe this meeting from reality, as if he would open his gaze and she’d be gone. It wasn’t until that moment Sasha realized that she’d been partly hoping he would react well to this news. While neither of them had planned this, nor wanted it particularly, a baby was still cause for celebration, wasn’t it? Apparently not.

The expression in his eyes was chilling. “There’s no ”of course” about it. In fact, as a candidate, I’m least likely to be the father, surely? We used a condom.

Remember?”

“Candidate?” Sasha repeated, She selected the one word which had jarred more than anything else he had said and repeated it incredulously, trying to steady the rapid rise in her breathing. “Are you…?” She struggled to complete the sentence. “Are you implying what I think you’re implying? That any number of men could be the father?”

He shrugged. “You tell me.”

Sasha resisted the desire to flail her fingernails at his mocking, sarcastic face-something she couldn’t even blame on her rocketing hormones.

Suddenly she got a glimmering of the way his warped mind was working, and she felt quite violently sick. Her hand flew to her mouth and her words were muffled as a consequence. “You don’t honestly think that I jumped straight from your bed into another’s man’s bed, do you?”

“But you weren’t in my bed, were you, Sasha? You never have been. The action all took place at your place. Who knows what followed next? I didn’t exactly have to mount a long and strategic campaign to seduce you, did I? Why should I flatter myself that another man… Probably Samson judging by the way he looks at you, would be any different?”

Sasha stared at him, feeling like an animal that had been shot and wounded. Enough to traumatize but not enough to inflict a mortal blow.

Was this what had she agonized over for days and days and weeks and weeks? Was this why she had felt honor-bound to tell him? For this?

She felt her legs grow weak. “Get out of my way, Kaleb! I’m leaving!” she croaked, but instead, she sat down abruptly on the sofa and shut her eyes with exhaustion. When she opened them again Kaleb was bending over her, flapping a glossy magazine over her face in an attempt to circulate the air. His own face, she noted with some satisfaction, was tight with tension.

She tried to sit up, but he shook his head and restrained her, with the flat of his hand pushed gently against one shoulder.

She wriggled like a captive eel. “Keep your hands off me!”

“It’s a little late in the day for that, surely?” was his wry reply. “Would you like something to drink?”

“I feel like a good, stiff brandy if you must know!”

“Well, you can’t have it,” he answered repressively. “Not in your condition.”

“Condition?” Sasha nearly burst into noisy sobs. “It’s such a corny word”

“It’s a pretty corny situation all round,” he said bitterly, and turned towards the door.

“Where are you going?” she choked.

“To make you some tea. I’ll have the brandy.”

She stretched out on the sofa until the shuddering of her breathing became steady, and she must have drifted off into a light sleep, because when she opened her eyes it was to find Kaleb pouring out tea and spooning sugar into it.

She still felt lousy. Physically. And yet some of the burden seemed to have been lifted from her shoulders. He hadn’t actually told her not to worry, and she didn’t think he would-but at least she didn’t feel alone any more.

He waited until she had drunk some tea and a little color had returned to her face. Then he sat down on a hard chair opposite her.

“So. You say I’m the father?”

She shook her head. “No. I don’t say, Kaleb-you are the father.”Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“Are you sure?”

She finished her tea and put the cup down. It was no good feeling offended by his assumptions-she hadn’t exactly behaved like some sort of saint, had she? But one thing was for sure-if she started behaving hysterically it would not do anyone any good. Least of all the baby.

She placed a protective palm over her belly, and if Kaleb registered the sudden action he didn’t comment on it. “Quite sure,” she said calmly.

He cleared his throat. “May I ask how?”

“Didn’t you do biology at school?” she questioned wildly.

“Don’t be flippant at a time like this! I asked you a civil question-I’d appreciate a civil answer!”

“Because…” She floundered for the most delicate way of phrasing it-but what was the point? They’d insulted each other about as much as they could. “Because I’ve not been having sex with anyone else,”

She saw that he still looked unconvinced. “But we used a condom, didn’t we?” he asked,

She avoided his eyes, “No we didn’t, Kaleb”

He stared at her, finally realizing that she was right. He’d completely forgotten to use one… For the first time in his life, he’d forgotten to use a condom. He closed his eyes and buried his face in his hands. When he looked up, he opened his eyes and his gaze pierced her soul, it was with a look of rejection, and panic. “No.” He glared at her. “This cannot be happening.”