25
And she always had a cappuccino… except she’d gone off coffee, preferring a sweet cup of tea which seemed to settle the queasiness she felt most mornings. Still, at this time of day one cappuccino should be manageable.
Unfortunately Favour had also ordered cream cakes and rich pastries that curdled Jasmine’s stomach just looking at them. Cucumber sandwiches would have been infinitely preferable.
They did serve elegant afternoon teas here in The Cortile, a huge two-storeyed area that had once been part of the old treasury building, nowincorporated in this very classy hotel. The colonnaded walkways running around it gave it a leisurely atmosphere, as did the cane armchairs in which they sat, and the grand piano being played by an excellent pianist, providing pleasant background music. It should have been very relaxing and would have been if Jasmine didn’t have to guard her tongue.
‘No morning sickness yet?’ she asked once the waiter had gone.
Favour laughed and shook her head. ‘I guess that’s in front of me. I’ll have to buy some books and read up on all the dos and don’ts,’
She gave Jasmine an arch look. ‘Now if you were a proper older sister, you’d be able to advise me on all this. Still no man on your horizon?’
Pain stabbed her heart. There’d been no contact from Collins since the night of the wedding. Not even after that night she had foolishly called him only to hang up after a few seconds. But what did she expect? He had told her that he wouldn’t reach out to her. Hell, he hadn’t even woken her that morning he left to say goodbye. He had gone… gone with the wind…
She gave her sister a droll look of exasperation to cover up the wretched emptiness in her soul. ‘You asked me here to talk happy talk so let’s concentrate on you and your baby. Do you fancy a son or a daughter?’
‘One of each would be lovely.’
‘Twins?’ Jasmine asked.
Favour laughed. ‘I hope not. Just one at a time but in any order. Boy or girl… it doesn’t matter.’
Such blissful carefree plans, Jasmine thought. A mountainous wave of envy hit Jasmine and she shrugged to fight through it as her younger sister rattled on about her ideal family. It wasn’t Favour’s fault that her own life was in such a mess. She seemed to get herself embroiled in one bad choice after another; holding on to Robert when he wasn’t worth holding on to, and now Collins… had she no sense of when to let go? Did fantasy have a bigger grip on her than reality?
The morning after Collins had left, she had lain in the bed he had shared, overwhelmingly aware of the empty place beside her, feeling bereft and miserably alone, telling herself she should get up and go to a pharmacy, purchase the pill that would keep her safe. It was the sensible thing to do.
Except she’d turned thirty-two this past year, and she couldn’t imagine falling in love with another man or accepting second best just to get married and have a family. If she was ever to have a child, she wanted Collins Templeton to be the father.
She hadn’t actually decided to get pregnant by him. and there’d been no certainty whatsoever about having conceived-women of her age often took months of trying before falling pregnant. She’d simply kept dallying with the idea that it might have happened-could happen-if she did nothing.
None of this had been really real to her then. More a romantic fantasy.
And the more she’d thought about it, the less inclined she’d been towilfully take away the possibility that a new life had been created in the heat of her night with Collins-a life she would love and cherish-a part of him she would always have.
She’d left the decision to fate.
If it was meant to be, it was meant to be.
Not for one moment had she thought the consequences through or considered the practicalities of her situation if she was laced with being a single mother. Reality had only begun to bite when the pregnancy test showed positive. In the past few weeks, more and more frightening realities had been creeping up on her and she didn’t knowhow to handle any of them.
Here was Favour, chatting on about how she intended to keep working until she was six months into her pregnancy, then put in her resignation because she wanted to be a full-time mother, especially since she and Leonard planned to have their babies in reasonably close succession. No worries about ready support for her family dream. Leonard was a dependable bread-winner and dying to take on the fatherhood role.
Whereas Collins…
Her stomach cramped. If she dared to contact him and confess her pregnancy, he’d probably hate her for it, believing she had deliberately deceived him, trapped him into fatherhood. Her mind shied from evenconsidering taking such a step.
Quite clearly Collins had not wanted to risk having a child. She couldn’t imagine he’d want a lifelong responsibility loaded onto his shoulders when he hadn’t agreed to it. So it was impossible to ask for any child support from him. She had to go it alone.
And she would. Because now that the pregnancy was real, she fiercely wanted this baby, regardless of the difficulties and hardships ahead of her. The need for it was as deeply primitive as the feelings Collins had stirred in her.
More so.
Collins wasn’t hers to keep but their child was. If nothing else, she’d have this, and already her love for the life she now carried burned in her heart like a beacon that she knew would shine over any dark days she experienced.
It wasn’t the joy Favour was feeling.
It was a passion.
Maybe that was the difference between their two natures.
Favour was a straight-line kind of person while she was driven by highs and lows. Her sister was never going to understand any of the choices she’d made, especially those relating to Collins. It was definitely best to keep it all to herself until she couldn’t any longer.
‘Jasmine, you haven’t eaten anything and your coffee must be cold by now,’ Favour pointed out.
‘It’s all too rich for me, Favour,’ she excused. ‘I’m sure Leonard will help you out with it when he comes.’
She quickly picked up her cup… ‘Still warm.’ … and sipped before smiling to assure her sister all was well.NôvelDrama.Org copyrighted © content.
‘Don’t tell me you’re dieting.’ It was a castigating comment.
‘No. But I did have a late lunch,’ Jasmine lied, hating the necessity to lie, yet needing to excuse her lack of appetite so her sister wouldn’t go on and on about it. ‘I just don’t feel like eating anymore. Sorry…’