Chapter 4: Three Months

"It's not yours to be happy about," I said.

I had not meant to say anything. It came out flat, and Declan's smile stayed exactly where it was.

"It's ours, Han. Four years. Do you know how long I've waited to say this?"

"Don't say it to me."

"A child needs a father. Whatever you think of me, you can't take that away from the baby."

He stepped toward the door, and I stepped into it.

"You're not coming in," I said. "You can see the baby when there is a baby. Until then, get off my porch."

"The porch belongs to the house, and the house is where my wife lives."

"Not your wife for much longer."

For the first time his face went still.

It was only for a breath, and then it was gentle again.

"I'll give you a few days," he said. "You're not well, and you're not thinking. I'll tell the clinic to expect me at the first appointment."

"You'll tell them nothing."

"I'm the father, Hanna. I'll go where I like."

He left the roses on the step and walked down the drive without looking back.

Frances came out of the kitchen with a screwdriver in her hand and a very flat look on her face.

"I'm changing the locks," she said. "Your mother would have done it Thursday night."

"Do you know how?"

"I know how to read the box."

She got as far as pulling out the old front-door cylinder and finding that the new one needed a different drill bit.

At eleven that morning there was a knock at the kitchen door, and it was Jude, holding a cordless drill and a case of bits.

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