Page 85 of Tears of Gold

“Where exactly are you planning on going?”

“Nowhere. I just want to make sure everything is sorted. I don’t trust him. I don’t like him, and I definitely don’t want him claiming some hold over our child.”

“He hasn’t apologised for how he reacted when you told him?” Eli’s arms tighten around me. Maybe it should be weird we are naked in the attic, but I feel safe with him as always. Safer than ever before.

“No. He said I was like my mum.”

“You never mention her.” Gentle fingers brush a blonde strand of hair out of my eyes.

“I don’t have anything to say. I don’t have any real memories of her. She was gone a long time ago.”

“Have you never wanted to find her?”

“No.” I shake my head, harder than I probably need. “The woman who left me? No. I don’t need to find her.”

“You could ask her why she did.”

“Dad said she was a slut. I guess that explains enough.”

“Let me guess, he branded you the same.”

I meet his gaze, hating the torture I see in their depths. “It doesn’t matter.” I smile. “Now, shall we get dressed to talk business or are you happy with me discussing one of your lawyer friends while bare-skinned and with you between my legs.”

Eli scrunches his face. “Clothes. I think clothes are best.”

I chuckle and let him climb off me, watching as he pulls on his boxers and shirt. “Tell me, do you always plan to have sex while wearing socks?”

He grins and it’s devilish. “If that’s what you prefer.”

Downstairs in the kitchen I manage to eat some chicken soup. It’s hot and nourishing and even I’m surprised when I dive in for a second bowl. “What are you smirking at?” I lift my eyes from the bowl and find Eli watching.

“I’m trying to imagine what you will look like when the baby is showing.”

“There is going to be a lot of stretched ink.” I can’t even think about it. It’s best not to. “How’s your new tattoo? Not too sore?”

He shakes his head. “Nothing, you are too talented. It hasn’t hurt at all.”

I ‘Hmph’ into my soup. “Maybe I should give up chasing the art dream and just tattoo full-time?”

“Give up the art dream? And you painted that upstairs this afternoon? Is your baby brain starting already?”

“No, senior partner, it hasn’t.” I swallow another mouthful of soup and then push the plate away. My stomach is almost screaming at me for putting too much in after days of being almost empty.

“I don’t even know if I’m going to take that yet.”

“Why wouldn’t you?”

He shrugs and I recall the reason for the first tattoo I placed on his shoulder. The battle that thrives inside him. Artist and lawyer. The two sides of Eli. “You’ll make the right choice, I’m sure.”

“Well it’s something we need to discuss, together.”

“Why?” I shrug.

“Because you’re going to be my wife. All decisions should be joint.

He has a point.

“Anyway, so after my awful call with that useless waste of space I used to call Dad, I was thinking. We need to get Fitzpatrick or whatever his name is around. If I’m going to be slandered, I want to make sure we can fight it.