Gundam Wing Fan Fiction ❯ Amour ❯ Proposal ( Chapter 9 )

Amour

 

Chapter 9

 

By Zapenstap

 

 

“Let me take your coat.”

 

The door to Alexander's penthouse apartment closed behind her heels as Relena stepped across the threshold and into the foyer. Alex stood just beside her, his hand hovering just behind her back as the latch clicked shut.

 

She realized she was shivering and willed herself to stop.

 

“Yes, thank you,” Relena replied, and began to unbutton the long, azure blue dress coat that swathed her from shoulders to calves.

 

Alexander Calhoun stepped directly behind her back to assist her in shrugging the garment. The gentle pressure of his hands on her shoulders elicited a slight tremble she hoped he didn't notice. Relena did not think he would believe she was chilly, and she could not afford to let him think she was nervous.

 

As Alexander turned away to hang her coat on the elegant, antique coat rack just beside the door, Relena put a hand to her abdomen. She thought about the life that was just beginning to spark inside of her, the one she had not looked to create, the one she did not know if she was ready for. Ready or not, she had to protect it.

 

She looked over her shoulder. As far as she could tell after three dates, Alexander Calhoun was attractive and decent and kind. His company was pleasant. They got along on most political points and shared similar family backgrounds in many respects. Ten years ago, her mother would have invited him to her debutante party in hopes of their making a connection. She willed herself to forget how she had changed in those ten years, and most especially who had changed her.

 

“Would you like something to drink?” Alexander asked her as he passed by her shoulder and led the way to the kitchen.

 

“Just water, thank you,” Relena replied, and followed his lead.

 

He poured her wine. She would have downed the whole glass in a swallow if she could have convinced herself it would do no harm to the baby. As it was, she saw the need to skip the time usually spent in getting comfortable. She crossed the dividing line between the living room and the kitchen and joined Alexander behind the counter. Carefully, artfully, she laid a hand on his arm. He had rolled up his sleeves to wash his hands, and she took advantage of the opportunity to touch him. Her fingertips trailed delicately, affectionately, across his skin.

 

“Alexander…”

 

She meant to say more, something strategically complimentary, demure and suggestive, but when he turned to look at her she fell silent. He had a striking face, intelligent eyes, and a fit and attractive build. Relena focused on those things for all she was worth.

 

“Call me Alex.”

 

“Alex,” she began again, and trailed off, blushing and flustered by the scent of cologne that suddenly assaulted her senses as Alex leaned into her personal space. By chance or fate, it was the same cologne Heero wore. By hovering in her space, Calhoun seemed to be testing her, seeing how she would react to proximity. He fingered her hair, another thing Heero always did once he mustered the courage to touch her. She had only a moment's respite to think—of Heero—and naturally she held the thought, closing her eyes to enjoy it as Alexander—Alex—leaned in to kiss her.

 

 

#

 

 

Heero sat on a worn couch in front of a coffee table with a laptop on his knees. His cup of coffee—cold now and only half-drained—was likely to leave a ring on the unprotected wood surface.

 

Not that it mattered. His hideout strongly resembled a bachelor's pad. The walls were bare. The furniture was old, scratched, and appeared to be burned in places. The only valuable items in the place was the technology equipment and security system, which was so modern, it was invisible unless one knew where to look.

 

Heero had arrived here by helicopter. He had not been told where he was going, but he was not surprised to find that he wasn't living alone. Trowa and Duo had been brought into protective custody as well, and as far as Heero could determine, only a few people even knew that they had been gathered together. The funding came from the Preventor's budget, under Une's approval, but the operation was planned and carried out by Sally Po.

 

It was not entirely a bachelor's pad. Duo had brought Hilde into hiding with him and the evidence of her habitation showed in the floral-scented air freshener in the bathroom, the full set of cooking ware under the oven, the spotless counter tops, and the checkered hand towels freshly laundered. Duo had refused to come unless Hilde could be taken in too. Heero didn't blame him. If anyone had known about his connection to Relena, or his feelings for her, he would have insisted on hiding her as well. Except that she wouldn't have come; he knew it as sure as he knew her. Her work was too important.

 

Hilde made daily comments about their living conditions. She mentioned the chipped plates, the mismatched silverware, the ragged furniture, the dust and mold, and the holes in the plaster. She found something new every day. Her comments were not complaints, though. From what Heero could tell, she mentioned these things because she seemed to enjoy Duo's animated facial expressions whenever she pointed out something about her living situation, something ugly, or funny or gross, that was less than what he would have wanted for her. The more Duo grimaced, the more she laughed.

 

Heero watched them passively. They got along well. They seemed happy.

 

He was not jealous exactly. And he refused to think that he was lonely, especially since he felt crowded here. But every time Hilde slid onto Duo's knee on laid her head on his shoulder his thoughts would wander to the last time he held Relena, and he would struggle with territorial urges about the man who was holding her now.

 

That the Vice Foreign Minster was seeing someone again had become international news quickly and traveled even to their secluded bunker. Heero thought he was happy for her. He was relieved that she was safe anyway. Strategically speaking, finding someone to replace him was the best scenario possible, especially considering the price on his head and the danger his existence caused her. That she had done it so quickly left a bit of a sting, but he consoled himself with the practical side. It would put her at risk if there was the least suspicion of their involvement, and the sooner she was with another man, the better. Besides, even without all of that, he still doubted his ability to commit to her or anyone. So it was better all around. He thought he believed that.

 

Still, when he caught Duo and Hilde whispering in the darkness of the corridor, Duo stroking her slim fingers as she looked into his eyes, it was not happiness for their quiet moment together that had spurned Heero to find a place well away from Duo's room. It wasn't jealousy either. But at that moment his insides clenched. He thought about Relena, about the softness of her hands and glow of her eyes, and then he thought about the man she was with and his blood started to boil.

 

So he had removed himself to the couch downstairs and busied himself in work, checking for leads on the terrorist organization that was making it so difficult for him to move around. While he worked, his coffee grew cold, and after an hour or so, Duo came down the stairs and went into the kitchen. Heero tried to ignore him.

 

“Hey, Heero,” Duo said, approaching him with his own cup of coffee, freshly made and steaming hot. “Did you hear about Relena? Hilde just heard from Sally.”

 

Heero continued typing. He hadn't heard anything about Relena since he learned she was seeing Alexander Calhoun. Gossip was hard to come by in the bunker and he really tried to avoid hearing anything about Relena. It was too great a distraction.

 

“No,” Heero said, feigning indifference.

 

Duo sat on the couch across from him. He put his coffee mug on the table and swung his legs up on the cushions, leaning back to rest his head against his wrists.

 

“She's pregnant.”

 

Heero stopped typing. Duo was staring at the ceiling and didn't seem to notice. Heero could feel the shock on his own face. His chest felt tight. Had he stopped breathing? By the time Duo turned his head to gauge Heero's reaction to this news, Heero had at least shut his mouth and flattened his expression.

 

“It's not tabloid either,” Duo continued. “Hilde says she was starting to show and made an official announcement about it. She must be a couple of months in then, huh? She's seeing some government official. It's a big shock to the public, her being pregnant before married, but I guess they're talking about marriage now so it will probably blow over. Have you been keeping up with her at all?”

 

“No,” Heero forced out. His fingers were numb. He could barely make sense of what he was seeing on the monitor. Pregnant. How long would it take for a woman to show? How much was she showing? He tried to do the math, but the phrase “talking about marriage” kept intruding. He wanted to get up and leave the room, but he didn't want to appear as agitated as he felt. He tried to keep his voice as even as possible. “When is she due?”

 

More importantly, when did she conceive? He wasn't sure what he wanted the answer to be.

 

“Dunno,” Duo said. “Maybe she doesn't want people speculating.” He yawned. “You know, if this thing ever calms down, I'd like to marry Hilde. It's too hard right now.
I'd worry, especially if you start factoring in kids and…”

 

Duo rambled on. Heero pretended to lose interest. The monitor screen was still a blur in front of his eyes. Relena was keeping the timing of conception from the public. Everyone would assume it was Calhoun's child. Was it? Heero could see two distinct possibilities. It was obvious, but not absolute. Was Relena strong enough for a subterfuge? He suspected she might be. She had never lacked in determination when it suited her, sometimes to the point of insanity. But that didn't mean this child was actually his. Did he want it to be?

 

“Uh, Heero?”

 

Heero realized belatedly that Duo had been speaking to him. He looked up.

 

“Are you bothered by this?” Duo asked, intrusive curiosity dripping from every pore. He propped himself up on his elbow, staring at Heero across the table top. “I know you don't care about Hilde in me, but have you heard anything I said? Are you still stuck on Relena? It's been ages.”

 

Heero was glad Trowa was not in the room. It was more difficult to hide subtleties from Trowa. But if even Duo could guess that he was agitated, how must he look?

 

“I always thought you had a thing for her,” Duo said absently. “Shame you never moved on it. She really liked you.”

 

Safe.

 

Heero looked back at the screen. “I don't want to cause her trouble,” he said.

 

“And what he means by that,” came Trowa's voice from the stairwell, “is that he's not the right guy to provide for her. Is there any coffee left?” He passed them behind the couch and headed for the kitchen.

 

Duo snorted. “You guys are just determined to be depressed. Just because we didn't die in the war doesn't mean we have to live like the dead. I wouldn't trade Hilde for anything. She makes it all worth it.”

 

“Hilde isn't famous,” Heero responded without thinking. “You'd feel differently if something happened to her.”

 

Trowa and Duo exchanged looks over his head. Heero kept his face blank. He really must be unhinged to speak so frankly. Thoughts and ideas kept darting through his head. He tried to calculate the last time he and Relena had slept together, tried to configure her monthly cycle in relevance to the weeks he had stayed at her place. What would he do if the baby was his? What would he do if it wasn't? There was one satisfactory image of him breaking Calhoun's jaw, but upon introspection he had to concede that that wasn't fair. For her own good or not, Heero had been the one to leave Relena, and whether his baby or not, Calhoun was the one still with her. His head felt so light, he was afraid he might pass out.

 

“I'll be upstairs,” Heero said, ignoring Trowa's raised eyebrows as he gathered his laptop, leaving the coffee mug on the table. Trowa and Duo didn't say anything, but he imagined them settling in to discuss his behavior in his absence. There was no help for it. He would just have to let them speculate.

 

As he ran up the stairs, his thought whirled faster. Relena was pregnant. Certainly it was nothing he had looked for, something he should reject with horror, but he couldn't stop thinking about it. A baby. What would it look like? When would it be born? The more he paced in his room, the more agitated his thoughts became. She was his, had become irrevocably his as soon as he admitted to himself that he wanted her. It would be imprudent to possess her, but that didn't alter his claim. He could allow this Calhoun to borrow her, to watch over her, indefinitely perhaps, even marry her, but she was still his.

 

But was the baby?

 

He couldn't relax. Every muscle in his body seemed tightened to the point of strain. Maybe…with a little careful planning… it might be possible to see her without exposing either of them to danger. Of course, he would have to break out of the bunker without the other pilots or the Preventors knowing, and be back before they knew he had left. He couldn't go right away, of course. If something went wrong it would be too obvious, but perhaps after the baby was born it would be possible. How many weeks did that leave him? If he timed it right…

 

#

 

A few weeks after Relena returned from the hospital, she stood in the doorway to the nursery clothed in a long silk nightgown and a robe with wide sleeves fashioned in the style of a kimono. Clouds obscured the night sky seen through the windows and only a silver of silver moonlight penetrated the gloom. She didn't turn on the light.

 

She wanted to watch the baby sleep, to make sure he was resting comfortably. It was impossible to believe that something so tiny and vulnerable could make so much fuss. He never slept more than a couple of hours. Tonight, though, he was resting more soundly than usual.

 

When she was fully satisfied that he would not wake, she slipped silently from the nursery and made her way downstairs to the kitchen for a glass of orange juice.

 

Relena's pregnancy had gone smoothly. She had been forced to cut back at work, of course, largely due to fatigue, and had grudgingly agreed to work from home for a few months after the baby was born, but even Candace Mae seemed surprised by the lack of complications. Of course she had the best doctors and a full staff to support her.

 

And then there was Alexander Calhoun, her baby's supposed father.

 

Relena still could not understand why he was still with her. She did not believe it was out of obligation to the child. She didn't need him with all the rest of her support. It didn't make sense. It had to be for her.

 

In the beginning, she had bent all her political whiles to convincing the man that her interest in him was exclusive and passionately engaged, and suffered pangs of guilt that kept her awake and weeping late into the night. She didn't tell Alexander that she was pregnant until almost a month into their relationship. When she revealed her condition, pretending shock and surprise and apology, she had expected at most a lump sum of money and a quick retreat. She had been surprised when he stayed, even a little perturbed.

 

She had not expected to hear from Heero. She knew he could not contact her even if he knew of her condition. For the first couple of months she dreamed about him while wrapped in Alexander's arms. For the first couple of months, she awoke slightly sweaty and dazed. Alexander thought she was having nightmares. He expressed only concern, touching her face softly, kissing her lips, telling her that all was well.

 

Relena had never been good at lying, so she was surprised how easily deceit came to her.

Somehow she managed to lean against his shoulder, to return his smiles, and to continue to take him to her bed. Nine months they had been together now. As her pregnancy grew more ponderous he moved into her mansion to be closer to her. They ate meals together, slept together, made love, and discussed a more permanent arrangement if all should work out satisfactorily.

 

Although outwardly things did seem to be running smoothly, her mental state worsened. In private moments she experienced uncharacteristic moments of temper and tears, episodes she did not think resulted from the physical changes in her body. It was the guilt, she was sure, and the pangs of missing Heero, of betraying him to save herself and their child.

 

Candace Mae was unsympathetic.

 

“You need Alexander,” the old woman said simply. “The longer he stays the better. Is it so bad? He treats you well enough. Aren't you happy?”

 

It took her months to admit that—apart from her deceit—she rather was happy.

 

It occurred to her that it was possible to like two people at once. She liked Alexander. She felt a certain amount of affection for him, even tenderness, and though it was not the same as what she felt for Heero, it was pleasant, even comfortable, and it made her happy. She still loved Heero, but he was absent, away from her, and she realized it was act of liking someone else in his absence that was causing her so much mental anguish.

 

Alex more than liked her. It couldn't be anything less than the deepest infatuation, if not love, that would keep him by her side this long.

 

She lived in perpetual fear of the time Alexander would propose to her.

 

She knew that would eventually. They had talked about it frankly before, and she could sense an air about him as her delivery time drew near. She also detected that the reason he had not proposed was that he suspected that she feared it.

 

Some days she hated herself for being afraid. A married life with Alexander would fulfill her domestic ambition. She had Heero's baby, after all, and may never see Heero himself again. She counseled herself to contemplate the positives. Alexander was a kind man, a quiet, supportive man. He was like Heero in some respects—deliberative, contemplative, always thinking carefully before speaking, and somewhat reserved. There were parts of her life she could not share with him, of course—anything that touched upon Heero in point of fact—but they connected well. She could see herself married to him, and although the thought didn't fill her with wild happiness the way thoughts of Heero did, it did not upset her.

 

And yet she was afraid.

 

Now that the baby was born, she knew he would ask soon. It could be as near as this weekend, or a few months, or tomorrow. When he did, she didn't know what she would say.

 

A sound from the nursery—heard through the monitors that decorated the house—startled her out of contemplation. She put the orange juice away and closed the refrigerator door. Turning on bare feet, she padded across the kitchen tiles and made her way silently up the stairs.

 

“Candace Mae?” she whispered. Her manager was the only other person currently in the house that she trusted in the baby's room. “Don't wake him. I just put him down.”

 

No one answered.

 

Her heart beat loudly in her ears as she approached the nursery and pushed softly on the swinging door. She expected to see Candace Mae leaning over the crib, but the room was empty. What she noticed first was the open window, the white silk curtains billowing into the room. It had been closed when she left.

 

Her eyes darted to the crib. Little Alex Darilan slept soundly, wrapped in swaddling with his tiny face scrunched in contemplation of an infant's dreams.

 

She turned slowly, her eyes combing the shadows of the room.

 

“Heero?” she whispered. Her heart beat like a drum in her chest. It had to be Heero.

 

A figure moved. A man emerged from the corner Relena's eyes had just swept. She started back in alarm, her heart pounding before she made out the familiar features of Heero's face and startling blue eyes. He had somehow hidden himself behind a half open closet door, swathed head to foot in black military gear, outfitted with a holster containing a gun and a variety of devices she could not name.

 

“Are you alone?” Heero asked her in a quiet voice.

 

She nodded, shutting the door behind her. “Candace Mae is asleep. Alexander isn't home yet. How did you get here?”

 

Some of the tension seemed to drain out of him. He turned to the crib, looking down at the infant's face and wisps of dark hair, seeming to study his eyelids and tiny lashes, his little nose and soft upper lip. His eyes darted over every feature, and Relena knew instantly what he was doing. She had done it herself many times, trying to understand what she was seeing, to leap over the incredulous notion that this tiny bundle was hers.

 

“It's yours,” Relena told him immediately, not wanting to draw it out and not daring to approach. “Everyone says he looks like me, but he's got your coloring. If you saw him with his eyes open, you'd see it, especially when he watches me. I didn't mean for it, but…” She bit her lip. “I'm not unhappy.”

 

Heero asked the obvious question. “You told him that it was his?” He meant Alexander Calhoun. His tone was curiously flat.

 

“Yes,” Relena confirmed. “He looks enough like Alexander thankfully. You have similar coloring. And I named him Alex. Alex Darilan. I thought it would be best that way.”

 

“It's a good name,” Heero told her.

 

There was silence for a moment as Relena watched Heero watch the baby. There was a look on Heero's face that she had never seen before, a kind of mystified wonder. He stared down at the child with a soft expression. His gaze was so gentle, as if he thought his stare might damage the baby.

 

Relena approached the father of her child slowly. She stood next to him, scarcely allowing herself the comfort to breathe for fear of breaking the spell.

 

“Does he dream?” Heero asked.

 

“I don't know.”

 

As they watched, the baby stirred, chewing on air, his head twisting slightly under the wrappings. Heero's mouth parted slightly, but he did not speak. Relena could tell he had stopped breathing, as if the baby's movement had just confirmed to him that it really lived.

 

“Do you want to hold him?” Relena asked.

 

“I'll wake him up,” Heero replied.

 

“It's okay,” she said. “I think he'll want to see you. Do you want to hold him?”

 

Heero's jaw looked tight, but he didn't say no. Relena reached into the crib to pick up her baby. He made a fussy sound as she lifted him, struggling in the bonds of his wrappings, red in the face as he fought against opening his eyes. She knew he would cry if he woke, but she rocked him, easing him back into slumber, and then turned to look at his father.

 

Heero had removed his vest and holster. The shirt he wore beneath it was made of soft cotton dyed black. Relena passed their baby to him gently, telling him how to hold his arms and where to support the head. Heero listened obediently, copying her without comment. When she finally let go of the child and took a step back from the pair of them, Heero had mastered the technique. The baby's head lay snuggly against his upper arm, still asleep, and for a wonder, Heero rocked it instinctively, turning his back on Relena to pace across the room. She could tell he was nervous, and fascinated, and managing to dampen it beneath a layer of control and utter calm.

 

“He's looking at me,” Heero said.

 

Relena walked the other way around the crib to see. Indeed, Alex Darilan had opened his eyes. For a wonder, he was not crying. He was staring at Heero, his baby blue eyes even darker than his father's, watching him without fear or fuss.

 

Heero stood in the darkness, staring into his son's eyes for several minutes. “Take him back,” he said. “Please.”

 

Relena took her baby from Heero's arms and laid him back in the crib. He still didn't cry. His eyes followed his father, watching him pull on his vest and strap the gun holster back around his waist.

 

“Heero,” Relena said. “How is everything?”

 

“There's no need to worry. What about you?” He looked at her when he said it, and in his eyes she saw his concern.

 

“I'm all right,” she told him.

 

“I'm sorry I couldn't be here,” he said.

 

“It's okay,” she told him. “I'm well cared for. I have everything I need.” She wanted to reassure him that she had not suffered materially in his absence. Emotionally, it had been hard, but her money would have seen her safely through any obstacles that might have burdened a woman in her situation of less means. She was sure that was what he meant. “I do miss you,” she added, and didn't realize how true it was until the words left her lips.

 

Heero's eyes seemed to drink in the light seeping into the room. “Calhoun treats you well?”

 

“Yes,” she said, sensing that there was something else he wanted to say. “Heero…?” She touched his arm, pleasantly attracted to the bulge of muscle beneath her hand as he bent his elbow and pulled her close to him. She could smell cologne on his skin, and the heady scents of leather and oil.

 

“I love you,” he said.

 

She almost sagged against him, her knees giving out slightly from under her. He removed her arm from his and touched her chin, lifting her face to his and looking directly into her eyes. He put his free hand around her waist, fingering the silk of her robe beneath his fingers at the small of her back. There was something tragic in his expression, something cautionary and apologetic. She wanted to hit him for it.

 

“I have to go,” he said before she could speak. His grip on her tightened, his head lowering closer to hers. “He'll be back soon.”

 

He said it, but his lips touched hers first, kissing her gently, pulling her up on her toes. She wrapped her arms around his shoulders, reaching around the back of his neck to hold him close. Their bodies suffocated the space between them, Heero's arms wrapped around her so tightly she could scarcely draw breath. He kissed her soundly, his eyelashes tickling her cheeks.

 

She knew when he was going to pull away and clung to him before he could, digging her nails into his shoulders and protesting with a murmur. They separated, Relena's heels settling back on the floor, and held on to each other's arms.

 

Heero turned to look down into the crib. Alex was looking up at them, his eyes wide and awake, watching them with polite curiosity. Relena bit her lip.

 

“Calhoun might ask me to marry him,” she said. Her fingers trembled on Heero's arms. She couldn't meet his eyes.

 

“Marry him if you want,” Heero said.

 

Relena looked up, stunned and almost hurt. Heero's face was hard and impassive, his jaw tight. He looked down at Alex Darilan. “He'll take care of you and the baby.”

 

“I don't need anyone to take care of me,” Relena said. “I've been trying to make that clear to you for years. What I want is someone to love me.”

 

“Does he?” Heero asked, turning now to look at her. She could not read his emotions. It was hard to tell if he had any, he was so good at hiding them. But she knew Heero. He felt more than most people. Felt it, controlled it, and buried it deep where no one could use it against him.

 

“I think he cares for me,” she said honestly. “He's told me he loves me.”

 

“If you marry him,” Heero said. “I'll stay away.”

 

“What if I don't care to?” she asked. “What about your son? I don't want you to stay away.”

 

“It would be better for both of you. Relena, this thing I'm involved in is not the operation of a few months. It could be years. For all I know it could be decades. And even if I survive, I'm not a family man. I wouldn't know how to be husband to you or a father to Alex. It's not fair to you. ”

 

“No, it isn't,” she said. “But if you honestly love me, you would want…”

 

A sound came from downstairs and startled both of them. The front door had open and shut. Relena turned to Heero, signaling to him with her eyes. Alexander Calhoun was home. Heero cupped her face and caressed her cheeks with his thumbs. He kissed her again, a soft goodbye kiss that seemed to linger even after he pulled away.

 

Baby Alex was still watching them. His face turned red as Heero moved with sudden swiftness toward the window. The tension in the room was palpable. The baby struggled and fussed and then started to cry.

 

Relena didn't dare say anything to Heero as he climbed onto her window sill. He looked back at her once from the ledge and then suddenly dropped out of sight. It took Relena a moment to realize that he must have swung down.

 

She hurried to the window, but when she looked down, she couldn't see him. Footsteps sounded on the stairs. Hurriedly, she shut the panes and pulled the curtains closed. Turning to the crib, she picked up Alex, his small form shaking with tears, red faced and wailing. She held him and rocked him, cooing comforts in his ear as the door to the nursery opened.

 

Alexander Calhoun entered, still wearing his coat and tie, looking tired, but concerned. “He's still awake?”

 

“He just woke up,” Relena said.

 

“I entered as quietly as I could.”

 

“I don't think it was you. He's been fussy all afternoon.”

 

He was a moody baby. He slept in fits, cried a lot, and rarely seemed satisfied. When he was content, he was the sweetest angel, but if Relena had been alone in caring for him she would have found him trying. With Candace Mae assisting her and Alex staying in when he could, she managed to rest enough that her baby's moods did not affect her; still, he was sensitive, something she had not expected from Heero's baby.

 

“Relena,” Calhoun said as soon as Alex calmed down enough to be swaddled and laid once more in the crib to rest. He was still sleepy and seemed content to fall back into whatever dream Heero's arrival had interrupted.

 

Calhoun waited until the baby was asleep before continuing. “I have something to ask you.” He took her gently by the elbow and led her out of the nursery. They walked together down the hallway and stopped a few paces from the window. The clouds had moved and moonlight illuminated the sharp angles of Alexander's face. Relena shivered in her robe, waiting for his words.

 

“This was not the place or time I intended to ask this,” he said, “but I've been thinking about it all afternoon, and I can't hold it in any longer.”

 

Relena's heart almost stopped.

 

“Relena, you must be wondering where I see this going—us, I mean. We've been together less than a year, I know, and it's been good, at least for me, and I think for you as well. You are an amazing person, and…” He stammered, looking flustered. “I know you expected me to leave you when you told me you were pregnant, and it's more than a personal sense of honor and affection for you that I didn't.”

 

Relena's heart beat even louder in her chest.

 

“I think we should get married. I think it would be the best thing for both of us. You work very hard and so do I. I'm fond of you—immensely fond—and I'm fond of the baby as well.”

 

Fond?

 

For a second, Relena's world tilted. This was not the proposal she had expected.

 

“He's my namesake after all, but…”

 

Relena experienced an alarming precognition.

 

“…I know he's not mine,” Calhoun finished.

 

Her heart may have stopped.

 

“Alexander,” Relena began, breathless and confused. She felt faint. She started to sway and Calhoun caught her, holding her steady by the shoulders.

 

“I've always known,” he said. “I don't think you've cheated on me. You must have been pregnant already.”

 

Relena didn't know what to say. She didn't want to confirm it, but she wanted to know how he knew. She stared at Calhoun, feeling light-headed and wondering if she looked as pale and wraithlike as she felt.

 

“I know it's not mine because I can't have kids,” Calhoun told her. “I'm sterile. It's not important. It's just…You're a remarkable woman and I couldn't understand why you would lie to me about something so important. For awhile I thought maybe you were after legitimacy, hoping to secure a well-connected husband to secure your reputation, but you seemed so hesitant about marriage every time we've talked about it that I had to conclude that that was is not your aim. You even went ahead and had the baby without being married first. If you intended to be my wife, I can't see how that would benefit either you or the child. I also know that though you like me a lot, you don't love me. I couldn't understand what you meant by lying. My only other thought is that being with me must afford you some other protection. I thought maybe you had a bad experience, that the real father of your children left you, or was inferior to you, or something that hasn't occurred to me yet. If so, I thought….”

 

“Yes!” Relena interrupted. She had been feeling fainter as Calhoun continued, and seized upon these speculations as a life raft. “A bad experience. I don't…I don't want to talk about it. I don't want to public to know. But he—the father—He's gone for good.”

 

She realized in saying it that she would have to mean it. Her throat constricted. She couldn't speak.

 

Calhoun seemed to relax. “If that's the case, let me take care of you. I can't have children, but I do like children. I do love you. You are a remarkable woman: strong, poised, and resilient. Let's marry, for better or for worse.”

 

“Why?” she gasped out. “I mean, what's in it for you?”

 

He shrugged. “I can take my career farther if I'm married, especially to someone like you. Being a family man is even better. I don't say this to sound callous. I couldn't marry just anyone, but a sterile man isn't attractive to the kind of women I'm interested in, not for the long term anyway. I never thought I had a chance with you or I would have courted you sooner. Everyone knows you want a family, after all. I thought maybe a few dates would be nice, but then it all just came together, as if fate had arranged it. I've enjoyed every moment of our time together. We are both relatively young, so I can afford to wait if you want to think about it, but I thought I might as well be honest in my intentions. I will take wonderful care of you. What do you think?”

 

Relena's mind swam. The taste of Heero's lips on hers had not yet faded. She could still feel his grip on her arms. And yet… To not be alone. To have a responsible male figure to help raise her child. To protect her child against gossip that his father had abandoned him. And perhaps greater harm.

 

She could only think of one logical answer. Tears gathered in her eyes as she formed her response. Let him think they were happy tears.

 

 

~To Be Continued~