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Even though I knew it was coming it still crushed me. I had known that he wouldn't deal well with fatherhood and I had thought that I had made my peace with that. I had thought that I had cleared my head enough for it not to hurt me. I was wrong. I had felt prepared and ready until he had said the words. I was thankful that the dark was there to hide my face. I felt my eyes sting and everything started to wobble. For a second a bitter sob threatened to escape and in that same second I was ripped completely to shreds. Then I coughed over the lump in my throat and picked up the pieces. I could tell from the throbbing pain that I would only hold together temporarily, but I prayed I could hold it until this conversation was over.

"I know," I said. My voice was weak, but at least I hadn't broken down. I shook my head and stepped back, away from him. "It's fine. Like I said… I… I don't want anything. You can just-"

"Isabel," Jack caught my arm with the hand that held my letter. I flinched like the paper had burned my skin. I stepped back again. He let go and looked down at my letter. "I can't believe you wrote this."

He said it quietly. I was hurting too much to work out his tone. I supposed that there would be gratitude in there. At least he was thanking me for my sacrifice. "It's fine," I said again, desperate to get out of there. He was so focused on me and I was so distracted with trying to get away, get out of this conversation.

"No, it isn't," he sounded a bit angry.

"Yes, it is."

"No. No!" He shook the letter at me. "It is not fine. And do you know why it is not fine?" He was furious now and couldn't seem to stay still. I was almost scared of the answer, but as quietly and calmly as I could I asked him why. I could see he was shaking, the torchlight quivered in his hand. "Because you… you-!"

He was unable to finish, but I'd got the idea. "Me? You're blaming me for this?"

"Yes."

"I know it's my fault, I've already-"

"The baby's not your fault!" he practically screamed at me. "This is." He shook the letter again.

"What?"

"This…This…" He was clutching it so tightly it was creasing. "You've let me off…. Completely! I don't have to do anything. I don't even have to see you again. Ever."

"I know."

"I should leave. Never look back. Live my life far, far away from you. Shouldn't I?"

"Yes…" I stammered. "If… If that's what you want then yes."

He was silent for a long time. I began to wonder if he was going to talk again. Should I leave? And if I did, how would I say goodbye? I stayed where I was. He was shaking his head. "I can't…" he whispered. "I can't leave."

I took a deep breath. "Yes you can. I told you. I want you to be happy, so go. I'll be fine."

It was then that I turned to walk away. I wouldn't let him stay with me just because of the baby. He would be miserable. He would resent me for it, and maybe even start to resent the child. Children aren't stupid, that much I knew. They can pick up on things better than adults give them credit for and our child would know when they got older that their dad was unhappy. And he or she would probably blame themselves. I wanted my baby to grow up knowing that they were loved. Even if it was just me to love them.

"I won't be," I heard Jack's voice crack a little when I was a few yards away. I turned back to him.

"What?" I asked. He was standing there and for the first time in his life I thought he looked a bit helpless. I didn't move towards him.

"I won't be fine," he said. I let the silence fill the gap. "I should want to leave, but I can't. I can't do what I should want to do because it's not what I want to do. And it's your fault I don't want to do it. I was going to run, Isabel. I did run, but after I heard the canons I had to come back. I wanted to check that you were alright and I thought it was out of guilt. I felt guilty that you were alone and pregnant and probably very angry so I came back." He took a deep breath. Again, I did nothing to interrupt the silence. "Then Dad gave me this letter and I knew you weren't angry. You said I could leave, which is what I had been doing. I tried to run again. Running in the canon fire would have been the opportune moment to go, but I couldn't bring myself to. It wasn't guilt keeping me, you'd let me off with everything. It was you. I love you too damn much to leave…" He held out my letter. "I can't do this- what you say here; not know where you are, live without you, pretend like you don't even exist. You may be fine without me love, but I'm sure as hell not going to be fine without you."

I gulped. I almost ran to him, but I didn't. "Jack," I sighed. "This isn't about me and you anymore. You don't want children. You don't even like children. And I want my child to feel wanted. The child is what's important now and if you don't want children then I don't want you around."

"I don't like children. I don't want children," he agreed." But what I dowant is our child." He stepped towards me. "It's different, love."

"Is it?"

"Yes." By now he had reached me and very slowly he reached out a hand to touch my stomach. "Because it's a little bit ours. I love it. Isn't that stupid, love? I love it already and I haven't even met it yet." For a moment we both got a little bit lost in the silence. He rubbed my stomach slowly. "So, darlin'… can I stay?"

I looked at him, surprised to find there were tears in my eyes. "Do you mean it?" He nodded; the look in his eyes was so sincere, but I had seen him look sincere before when he had been lying. Then the torchlight flickered and I saw the glint of a tear track. At some point during his speech he had been crying. "Yes, you can stay."

"Yes?" A smile split his face.

I nodded, matching his smile. "Yes."

He kissed me, being careful to keep the burning torch away from us as he wrapped his free arm tightly around my waist. I hugged his neck and fought the tears that threatened to turn to laughter. A loud moan stopped us short.

We looked down at Fitzwilliam. I had completely forgotten about my cousin. "Oh," said Jack. "You're awake."

He kissed me again, quickly. Fitzwilliam groaned. I pulled back a little from Jack. "What?" I asked innocently as if I didn't already know.

"Don't do that. It is disgusting," he hauled himself up.

"She's growing a real life miniature person inside her, mate. Have some respect. What have you done that's of any use lately?" Jack winked at me as Fitzwilliam dusted himself down. I rested my head on Jack's chest.

"Well, let's see," Fitzwilliam mused. "I've been promoted, fought pirates in Singapore, and destroyed many of them. What else…? Oh yes, I've been in Port Royale. You've been missed, Isabel and I'm here to get you back."