‘I haven’t been able to think about anything else for the last twenty-four hours.’

‘No, well, it’s kind of all-consuming, isn’t it?’

‘What’s your take on it?’

He didn’t have one. At least not until he knew what hers was. ‘I’d rather hear yours.’

She tilted her head and looked at him steadily, a frown appearing on her forehead. ‘Have you actually thought at all about what you think we should do?’

‘Of course I have,’ he said, because he had thought about it. Sort of. Not that he’d really come to a conclusion one way or another. What would have been the point of that when, as it wasn’t his decision to make, any opinion he had would only be irrelevant?

‘Because you do realise that the only way we can work through this is if we’re honest.’

‘I do.’ And he would be honest, because he wanted what she wanted. ‘Want to sit down?’

‘Sure.’

She pulled out the nearest chair and sat down and he walked round the table to take a seat opposite her.

‘OK. Right. Well. Here goes.’ She put her glass on the table, leaned forwards to rest her elbows on the table and took a deep breath. ‘As you can probably imagine I’ve given it a lot of thought and the way I see it we have three options. One, I keep it. Two, I have it and give it up for adopti

on. Or three, I have an abortion.’

Even though he could feel his heartbeat speeding up Marcus didn’t move a muscle. ‘Go on.’

‘As far as I’m concerned option number two isn’t viable. I have no moral grounds for going through the whole nine months of pregnancy only to give the baby away at the end.’

‘So that leaves options one and three.’

She nodded. ‘It does.’

‘And which have you decided on?’

‘Option number three.’

* * *

There. It was done.

Celia held her breath as she waited for Marcus’ reaction to the conclusion she’d spent so many heart-wrenching hours coming to. So many thoughts going round and round in her head. So many scenarios playing out over and over again. So much turmoil churning around inside her.

She hadn’t come to the decision easily. She’d never given anything more consideration. She’d applied logic, practicality and emotion, looking at it from every angle she could think of. And then she’d looked at it from what she thought might be Marcus’ angle, even though she was becoming increasingly aware that he may have angles and depths she’d never considered before.

Given what she knew for certain of him, though, she’d assumed that he’d be on board with her decision. That he wouldn’t want the disruption to his life any more than she did.

But right now his face was so totally unreadable she couldn’t tell what he was thinking and it was disconcerting to say the least.

‘I see,’ he said, his voice devoid of any emotion whatsoever. ‘You want an abortion.’

‘I wouldn’t exactly say I want one, but I think it would be for the best.’

‘Right.’

There was still nothing in his expression to let her know what he thought, and she felt a flutter of alarm. What if she’d been wrong in her assumption he’d think the same? What if he wasn’t on board with this? What if he wanted the baby while she didn’t? What would happen then?

‘Look, Marcus,’ she said, bracing herself for the possibility of having to negotiate or compromise or who knew what, ‘while I don’t rule out having children at some point in the future, the timing of this one couldn’t be worse. My career is very important to me. I travel a lot. I work horrendous hours. I’m up for partnership, and after everything I’ve worked for I can’t jeopardise that. This pregnancy was an accident and I—’

‘You don’t have to justify your decision, Celia,’ he cut in, thankfully putting an end to her rambling, which was in danger of becoming faintly hysterical.