Page 44 of His Housekeeper's Twin Baby Confession
Emotionally was another story.
She’d just had her fears confirmed by the doctor and the doctor’s handy little pregnancy test, which had very definitively spelled outPREGNANTon its digital display.
The wonders of modern technology...able to diagnose a pregnancy even at this early stage...
He’d said he thought she was about a month in, so Carrie had dated conception back to when they’d first slept together in New York. The moment when Massimo had thrust inside her before remembering to put on protection.
She hadn’t even realised she’d missed a period.
There was a knock on the door. ‘Carrie?’
Her belly lurched—but not with nausea this time. With fear and trepidation.
She called out, ‘I’m fine. I’ll see you downstairs.’
Hesitation outside. Then, ‘I’ll have Chef prepare some tea and toast.’
Carrie put a hand to her mouth to contain a semi-hysterical giggle at the thought of how things had veered so off-course. But then she sobered again when she thought about telling Massimo. She had no choice. His doctor knew, and even though he wouldn’t have told Massimo she couldn’t sit on this. It was too huge.
She went downstairs and found Massimo in the private media room. He was dressed in jeans and a long-sleeved top, his hair mussed as if he’d been running a hand through it. He was watching a news channel, but switched it off when she came in. He stood up.
Carrie opened her mouth, but at that moment the chef appeared with a tray of tea and toast. He put it down on the coffee table by the couch.
Carrie smiled at him weakly, not sure what he must be thinking about this reversal of her status. He was discreet, though, as were all of Massimo’s staff. As she had once been.
When he’d left, Massimo said, ‘Sit down...have something.’
Carrie felt like just blurting it out there and then, but Massimo looked concerned, and she knew she needed to fortify herself for whatever reaction she was going to get. So she dutifully sat down and had some tea and buttered toast. It tasted like cardboard in her mouth.
After she’d had a few mouthfuls, Massimo said, ‘So...what is it?’
Carrie wiped her mouth with a napkin. She looked at Massimo. Only about a foot separated them on the couch. He was too close.
She stood up and walked over to stand behind an armchair.
Massimo stood too. ‘Carrie...?’
‘It’s nothing serious.’ She thought about that, ‘Well...that’s not exactly true.’
Massimo frowned. ‘Carrie, what the...?
‘I’m pregnant.’
Her words hung between them. Massimo looked confused. ‘What did you say?’
Carrie’s hands gripped the back of the seat. ‘I’m pregnant.’
Massimo shook his head. ‘But...how? I used protection every time.’
Carrie thought again of that moment—the second time they’d made love.
Massimo’s face darkened. ‘There was onlyoneinstance, and I made sure to put on protection as soon as I remembered.’
But that was all it took. A moment.
Weakly, she said, ‘No form of protection is one hundred per cent reliable.’
He looked at her. His face stark. ‘You don’t seem surprised.’
