who: Katie Bell, Adrian Pucey what: Storm. when: 26 January where: Dingle, Ireland
Angelina was right, of course. As alone in this as Katie felt, she certainly was not. Although it was her body and life without a doubt, Adrian had as much right and responsibility, if he chose to accept. If not, then all her worrying and fears were for not; a discrete trip to the healer's and that would be that.
The last few days Katie had stubbornly tried not to think about the beginnings of the life struggling into creation inside her womb. The right to existence of that future child. It was easier than it should have been. Simply cells and potential. Planning its destruction was simple for Katie, but it was the same ease which frightened her to physical discomfort. Certainly someone who could be so detached and clinical about a baby was not fit to be anyone's mother. Right and responsibility of the father be damned.
Angelina was right, of course, a continuous mantra Katie relied on as a crutch. She had to tell Adrian first. If for no other reason than they had created this together, whether they chose to keep the child or not.
Katie sat cross-legged on the sheepskin rug in front of their hearth, waiting for Adrian to come home. This was calm before the storm, but no matter how close she got to the flames, the winds of fate still chilled her bones.