“Let’s talk a minute,” he said softly, gently.
“Paul,” she said, tears brimming in her eyes. “Please. Enough. I’m sorry.”
“It’s okay. Come on,” he said, pulling her out of the truck. He dropped an affectionate arm around her shoulders and led her back to the bench, and as he did so she leaned against him and began to softly cry. “Sit down, Terri,” he invited her. “Tell me something. Does the baby have a father?”
“Obviously,” she wept, digging around in her purse for a tissue.
He pulled a clean handkerchief from his pocket and handed it to her. “I mean, a man who is standing by. Supporting you. Ready to take his share of responsibility.”
“’Fraid not,” she said, accepting the hankie and dabbing her eyes.
He ran the back of his finger along her cheek, wiping away a tear. “Is that why you told me it was mine?”
She turned liquid eyes up to him. “Partly,” she said quietly. “There’s more to it than that…”
“Was it about money?” he asked.
She laughed without humor. “No,” she said. “It was because neither of us had anyone in our lives—at least that’s what you said. It was because of the way you are—telling me that story about how you were with your best friend’s wife when her baby came, and it tore you up but it was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen. It was the way I felt when I was with you.” She shrugged. “I thought you’d be a good father. A good… Never mind.”
“We weren’t together very much,” Paul said, shaking his head.
“I know. It was stupid. But I thought if you grew to love me…” She leaned against him and let the tears flow. “If you thought I was having your baby, maybe we’d be together more. And if we were together, maybe…” She wiped at her eyes. “I thought I’d… I thought we’d be safe with you. I felt a lot more for you than you did for me. But what I did… It was wrong. I’m sorry.”
He put an arm around her and held her. “Terri—you had to know I’d find out eventually…”
She shrugged and sniffed. “Maybe not. At least not until we’d had some time together. And if you got attached, if there were more children… It was a stupid risk, I really don’t know if I’d have been able to go through with it.” She looked up at him. “I’m not a dishonest person. I probably would have told you the truth before…” She took a breath. “It took me a while to accept that you just weren’t into me,” she said. “You didn’t call, you left town all the time. You were right—there wasn’t much between us. But that didn’t keep me from wishing there was.”
He put a large hand over her barely swollen middle. “And this little one’s father?”
“Not interested, either,” she said.
“Does he know?”
“I told him. He could care less. He told me I’d have to sue him to—Well, it didn’t take me long to decide I was better off.”
“Loser,” Paul muttered under his breath. “How did this happen?” he asked.
“I’ve always been bad about those pills. Missing them, forgetting. And he didn’t use anything. It’s my screwup. All mine. I’m pretty lucky a baby is all I got from him.” Her eyes were large and round. “The condom didn’t fail, Paul, and I was tested at my first appointment. I didn’t give you anything.”
He didn’t share that he already knew that. Acting on Jack’s advice, he’d been checked out. “Are you going to be all right?” he asked her.
“I’ll manage,” she said, wiping her tears away.
He lifted her chin. “Is there anything I can do to help you now?”
“You’re off the hook, Paul. You don’t have to do anything.”
“Do you still have that card I gave you? With the phone numbers?”
“Yeah. Somewhere.”
“You can find me easily. I work for a family company headquartered in Grants Pass. My family. If I’m not here, they can reach me. If you ever need anything…”
“Paul,” she said, laughing through tears. “I lied to you. You don’t have to…”
“Terri,” he said sweetly. “It’s true we’re not a couple. That we never were. But I don’t go to bed with women I don’t have any feelings for. God, I’m not that bad. Even if we weren’t in love, I thought of us as friends, at least. We had a real important connection. You were good to me. I tried to be good to you.”