Page 192 of Falling for the Wife
Who was she kidding? We barely knew each other. Two weeks wasn’t enough to know the person well, least of all know what designs they had to make money off me.
“You might be surprised. This isn’t the first time a woman has told me I fathered a child.”
She appeared shocked as she uttered a simple, “Oh.”
“I will have my lawyers reach you for the paternity test,” I began, feeling heady at the prospect of being a father. “I strongly advise you don’t tell anyone about this. I’d rather keep it all a secret. My health and my sanity are at stake here. I’d rather my mother not indulge in concocting another scheme if news got to her about me possibly fathering a child.”To a married woman, I quietly added for good measure.
Kimberly merely nodded, calm as a cucumber as she drifted those deep, dark eyes towards me. “Do take care, Luca,” she whispered softly before quietly leaving my room.
After she had gone, I had only the hospital monitors beeping for company.
As much as I would have liked to drown in the medication and drift back into unconsciousness, I couldn’t help fancying the idea of fatherhood. I knew it was dangerous to tread the path, but it couldn’t be helped. Being a father was always in the back of my mind. I always considered one day I would meet someone special whom I would eventually marry, settle down, and have a brood of my own with. Obviously fate had its own designs for me, shifting my already chaotic world into something more bizarre.
Taking the doctor’s advice into consideration, I still hadn’t decided on the operation yet. I would dwell on the obstacle in the safe confines of my home. As soon as it could be arranged would be splendid. Tonight would be fitting. With enough powerful strings pulled, I would very much get my wish granted. Hopefully.
Due
After being discharged from the hospital last night, I couldn’t help pondering what to do next about Kimberly’s confession. Vittorio, the family doctor, was less than pleased about my stubborn decision in stalling the much needed operation. It couldn’t be helped, though. I had so much to think about, and at the top of that list, life seemed much less worth living. I wasn’t necessarily suicidal, as he had put it, but I was more reserved. The main subject was my brain after all. Was it really unfathomable for me to be reluctant about the whole damn thing?
Surely my parents—my mother in particular—wouldn’t be pleased once they learned the news of me being discharged. I had given my security strict orders not to let my mother through, because the last thing I could tolerate was a screeching banshee in my living room. Having her around wasn’t beneficial to my health, so best cut into the situation before the shit storm hit. There were only a few people on that roster, and given how Andrés and Jacques had been keeping a close eye on me, I was sure one of them was bound to set foot on my doorstep sometime soon to check in on me.
As predictions went, I was on point. At half past noon, the duke himself had freshly landed from Spain and stopped by to see me. It was a detour before flying to America to compete in NASCAR. Sometimes I wondered what his family thought of him doing such a daredevil sport. I was sure they didn’t approve of it since he was, after all, the heir to the dukedom. Regardless, it seemed the clever Spaniard could get away with whatever he wanted. Bravo to him.
I was in my study, picking at my lunch, when he came waltzing in with a wicked grin pasted on his face. I wasn’t sure if it was a look of approval because I was being my normal, stubborn self or that he thought I was stupidly crazy, and he couldn’t help being amused by my antics.
“Gino, your very efficient assistant, informed me that you left the hospital last night, so I had to make an impromptu trip to see you before I head across the Atlantic,” he drawled as he strode towards me before situating himself across from me and taking a plump grape off my fruit platter. “So, should I prepare for your burial, or should I anticipate a vacation as you recuperate from a complicated operation in your beautiful villa in Lake Como?”
As always, he was a bastard to the highest order, but a caring bastard, nonetheless. There was love in there somewhere mixed within his sarcastic comment; I was sure of it.
“Funny how I knew you were coming instead of Jacques. Guess the two of you are too busy to remember a beloved friend,” I stated in a nonchalant manner, though I was profoundly aware of the hefty tinge of jealousy. After all, they were riding their careers, while mine had stagnated due to this unfortunate, pestering condition that threatened everything I was and would be.
Andrés momentarily paused, eyeing me with curiosity as he considered me. “You’re one of the best out there, but you choose to be reckless with your life, instead. Have you realized how frustrating it is for us to watch you spiral out of control? The worst part about it is, we don’t have a fucking clue why you’re acting the way you are. It’s just not you, Luca. I don’t understand any of this.” He shook his head, appearing as bewildered as he claimed.
I get that they were getting frustrated with me, as well as the rest of the world apparently. Regardless, how could I explain myself without sounding like a mad person? I knew my reckless actions stemmed from the moment I was blindsided by Kimberly getting married out of the blue. Her hasty decision had cemented the lunacy in me. How could a man explain that? Was it pride? Was it my dented ego? Or was it something else entirely?
The more time I pondered about the past, the more confused I became. No one knew about these perplexing thoughts I had, and it seemed that my choices had greatly affected my friendships with my friends. They were the closest thing I had to siblings. We were comrades through the competition, but most of all, we were brothers.
Harboring these negative thoughts were clouding my mind, my judgment, and maybe it was high time I let someone in on what was going on. No one really knew since I hadn’t mentionedherto anyone because two weeks was too short a time to think of it seriously. Then again, she didn’t really give me a choice, did she? The moment I realized things could move forwards with her, she was already walking down the aisle to be another man’s wife. So, yes, could anyone blame me for being bitter about it?
Expelling a heavy breath, I looked away from his knowing, curious gaze, eyeing the barely touched food before me.
“Someone claimed I fathered her baby.” I delivered it with a detached tone since that was how I had trained myself to deal with such things—to be always on guard, for people took advantage once they saw someone in a weakened, vulnerable state.
“Well, this wouldn’t be a first, would it?” he quipped, unsurprised by my statement. “Did you not wear protection?”
Good question. I did, didn’t I?
Upon recollection of my short time with Kimberly, I was sure I was always donning protection, but then again, my memory was hazy, so I couldn’t be sure. However, was it possible that I could have missed one?
“I believe I was always safe, but…” I trailed off, trying my damnedest to remember which particular moment was at fault. “I think I did—well, except for that one time.”
Damn.
“It only takes as much.” He raised his brow at me, even more incredulous. “But the real question here, Luca, is do you believe her? Do you think it’s really yours?”
“I don’t know.” It was the truth. I shouldn’t believe her, because she was a pregnant woman who happened to be married now. At the same time, what if she was right? What if the baby was really mine? Then, if so, what did I intend to do about it?
My mind raced as the possibilities weaved through it before Andrés broke into my thoughts as he voiced his own opinion.
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