Page 143 of Diego

“Yes. You cannot raise my child, be around my child, and remain completely outside my world, Blair. I wish that were possible. It isn’t. If you are with the baby, then anything that reaches you can reach the baby. That means security around you too. Always.”

She uncrosses her arms and sits forward. “What exactly does that mean?”

“Exactly that. It means somebody is nearby when you leave the apartment. When you work. When you shop. When you go out. They are not to interfere with your life, and they are not going to stand over your shoulder while you have dinner or follow you into a bathroom. The point is to make sure somebody I trust can get to you immediately if there is a problem.”

I watch the resistance build in her face as I speak. “Giacomo and the others are good at disappearing into the background. Today was unusual because he saw you buy medicine and knew I would want to know if you were sick.”

She absorbs that for several seconds before something I said catches up with her. Her expression changes completely. “Wait.” She turns toward me more fully. “You said if I’m with the baby. Before that, you said if I want to be involved in this baby’s life.”

I know where she is going before she finishes, and there is no version of the answer that will make this better. “Yes.”

“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“Exactly what I said.” I keep my voice level even as something unpleasant settles in my chest. “The baby will have security. Anyone responsible for the baby has to operate within that security. You included.”

Her stare sharpens. “And if I don’t agree to this? If I say I am not spending the rest of my life with somebody following me around?”

I look at her for a long moment. This is the line I did not want to reach tonight, because once I say it, I cannot pretend the choice does not exist. “Blair.”

“No. Answer me.” Her voice rises slightly. She’s holding herself together, but I don't know how long it'll last.

“If I don’t agree to constant security and having someone follow me everywhere, what happens?”

I sit back.

I could soften it. Dress it up. Pretend there is more flexibility here than there is.

But that would only make this worse later.

“If you refuse the security, you cannot be part of the baby’s life.”

She stares at me as though I have spoken in another language. The disbelief comes first, then fury moves through her expression so quickly that she is on her feet again before I can say anything else.

“You are telling me that if I don’t let your people follow me everywhere, you will keep me away from my own child?”

“I am telling you that I will protect our child from risks you do not yet fully understand.”

“I’m the baby’s mother.”

“I know exactly who you are.”

I rise too, but I stay where I am rather than crowding her as she starts pacing between the couch and the kitchen.

“And I am the baby’s father. There are realities attached to me that neither of us can pretend aren’t there simply because we wish them not to be. I cannot remove them. I can only make sure the people I care about are protected from them.”

She turns on me near the peninsula. “And if I don’t agree to that?”

This is a different question altogether. This time she is asking what happens if she refuses my conditions and refuses to accept the consequence. She is asking how far I am willing to take this, and I do not give her an answer because I do not want to hear myself say it.

I have no intention of standing in her apartment and telling the woman carrying my child exactly what I could do if this became a fight between us. The possibilities exist whether I name them or not, and judging by the look on her face, she understands enough already.

“Those are your choices, Blair.” My voice comes out quieter than before. “You accept the security, and you stay fully involved in the baby’s life, or you refuse it and force this into something neither of us wants. Do not let it come down to that.”

She gives me a long, disbelieving stare. “You make it sound like I’m the one creating the problem.”

“No.” I shake my head. “You did nothing. This is just the way it is.”

“Just the way it is? You walk into my apartment tonight and tell me I either surrender a huge part of my privacy or you’re going to take away my kid!”