Hard Choices
      Chapter 4
 

“Danny, hello? Have you been listening to me?” Theresa waved a perfectly manicured hand in front of Danny’s eyes.

“Um ... yeah, sure. You were talking about caterers, right?”

Theresa crossed her arms on her chest. “Danny, this is your wedding, too. You could at least pretend to be interested in the details.”

Danny looked at her across the table. He had cared about this woman once, but all he felt now was loathing. The thought that he would be spending the rest of his days as her virtual prisoner made him queasy. “Excuse me, Theresa, I need to use the restroom.”

“Fine, Danny. But these decisions have to be made, and I can’t do it all without you, baby.”

God, she acted like their wedding was going to be about love, not power and control and desperation.

Danny walked into the men’s room at Towers. He went to the row of sinks and cupped his hands under a faucet, splashing the cold water that filled them onto his face. How was he going to be able to pull this off, how could he sit around with Theresa and pick out centerpieces when his every thought was consumed by Michelle, her touch, her smell, the way she would look holding their baby in her arms . . .

He heard the door open and close behind him, followed by the solid click of the lock. He turned around and found himself facing Michelle.

“Michelle, what the hell are you –” Before he could get another word out, she had wrapped her arms around his waist and her lips were on his, so warm, so soft, and he was lost. He was lost in her, and his hands were roaming all over her body, and she was pressed up against him so, so, close . . .

“Michelle,” he said, his eyes closed. Then he remembered where he was and what would happen if Theresa had any idea that he was with Michelle. He tried to pull away from her, but Michelle kept her arms around him, and nuzzled his neck as she spoke.

“You still love me, Danny, and we both know it. I know you’re protecting me, but you don’t have to. Whatever it is, we can fight it together.”

This time he successfully broke from her embrace. He pulled her to the far corner of the room and spoke in a whisper. “What did Jesse tell you?”

“Don’t worry, he wouldn’t tell me anything, but after he spent two hours trying to convince me to marry him, I figured out that he was in on whatever’s going on. Now, are you going to tell me the truth, or do I need to go out there and inform your alleged fiancé that I’m going to be making her a stepmother in about six months?”

Danny looked at her; she seemed so innocent and vulnerable, with her honey-gold curls upswept in a loose knot, and her pink sweater set, and her sweet brown eyes, but underneath her apparent vulnerability, he knew she was strong, made stronger by everything his mother had put her through. Maybe there was a way. There had to be a way, because it was suddenly very clear to him that he could not live without this woman. He leaned in and kissed her, lips parted and tongues met and her hands were in his hair, she was pressed against him again, and oh, God, he wanted her so much, had missed her so terribly . . .

He stopped himself. Theresa was no more than a few yards away, probably already growing concerned at the length of his absence from her presence; she kept her new prize on a short leash. He whispered to Michelle urgently.

“You’re right, I am trying to protect you, and you’re making it extremely difficult. I’m sorry for everything I said yesterday. I love you,” he kissed her forehead, “and I love our baby.” He placed a hand gently on her still-flat abdomen. “But if we’re ever going to be able to be together again, you’re going to have to trust me, and stay away from me for the time being.”

“I trust you with my life, Danny, I always have. But I need to know what’s going on.”

“Baby, I don’t have time to explain it all right now. Just get out of here, go home, and . . . I want you to marry Jesse, Michelle.”