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I wanted to cling to my anger, to make him suffer a little longer for doubting me, but the sincerity in his eyes broke through my defenses. I reached out now and took his hand in mine. His eyes widened, and I saw the relief in them when his gaze met mine.

“You saw me with Dominic and assumed the worst,” I said quietly. “After everything we've shared, you thought I would betray you to him.”

Gio's fingers tightened around mine. “When I saw you with him, I thought you didn’t want to be with me. I couldn’t see anything beyond that sense of abandonment. But that's no excuse.”

His vulnerability cracked open something inside me.

“Give me your phone,” I said. “The one I stole.”

With a curious look, he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to me without question.

That in itself, was progress enough for me, a sign of trust.

“I went to the mall that day to give you and Caspian privacy during your argument,” I explained, navigating to the video recording from the mall. “I ran into Dominic by accident. When he started asking questions about where I’d been, I thought I could help by influencing him to slip up and see if he knew anything about the attack on your operation that day.”

I pressed play, and Dominic's voice filled the room.

“I could never get him to finish what he was saying,” I said as the video ended. “You came before I could. I spoke to him in a public space, Gio. I lured him into the food court because I didn’t want to risk him grabbing me to take back to my brothers.”

Gio looked positively astonished. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret. I knew then he wanted to say more, but he first needed to work through the guilt he was facing, clearly etched across his face.

“Why didn't you tell me about this recording right away? It would have proven your innocence.”

I shook my head softly. “Because I wanted you to trust me without proof. I wanted your faith, Gio, not your validation after evidence. Trust isn't real if you need proof.”

He hung his head, his forehead pressing against our joined hands. “I don't deserve you.”

“No, you don't,” I agreed, but I reached out to cup his face, tilting it up to meet my eyes. “But I choose you anyway. Just like you chose me. We both said things we regret.”

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, voice rough with emotion. “For not trusting you.”

“And I'm sorry for lashing out instead of explaining,” I admitted. “We both have work to do.”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine. I felt the broken pieces between us beginning to heal. But then, I remembered what I was doing. I was keeping yet another secret, and this time, the guilt played at my heart.

I pulled away and leaned back into the pillows, suddenly needing space to think.

“You tired?” Gio asked, concerned.

“A little,” I said. I was tired. So much had happened today, but with us having talked, I knew I could finally get some sleep. A few days of rest, and then I’ll decide what to say, if at all, about the baby. Just some rest.

***

The next day, I finally felt better, especially after I canceled all eggs for breakfast. After enjoying some watermelon, which feltsoright, and a slice of toast, I showered for the first time in days. Aware that the morning sickness might return at any moment, I cherished the temporary relief and decided to take a relaxing day.

I stepped out of the shower in my towel and took my time blow-drying my hair. Then, I pulled out some nail polish and chose a pretty pink color.

When Gio returned from an afternoon meeting, I was sitting on the bed in nothing but a towel, music playing softly from my phone as I applied a second coat of polish to my toenails.

I heard the knock and delivered the customary “Come in.” By now, I knew his knock, knew it was him.

When I looked up with a smile, I saw him frozen in the doorway. His eyes literally darkened as they traveled down to my bare shoulders to the precarious edge of the towel at my thighs.

“You're looking better,” he said, voice dropping to a low register that instantly made heat pool between my legs.

“I'm feeling better.” I capped the nail polish and set it aside, turning to him with a playful grin.

He approached slowly with a devilish grin of his own. “That towel looks good on you.”