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She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course it’s not. Because this isn’t about love, is it? This is about convenience. About solving a problem.”
“That’s not?—”
“It is.” She turned back to face me, and I saw tears glittering in her eyes. “You’re asking me to pretend to be your wife so you can win a custody battle. What happens to me in all of this, Colby? What happens to my heart when I have to pretend to love you and then go back to being just friends?”
Her words hit me like a physical blow. I’d been so focused on my own panic, my own desperation to keep Luca, that I hadn’t considered what this would cost her. Gianna, who’d been hurt before. Gianna, who guarded her heart like a fortress because she’d learned early that people left.
I stood and crossed to her, reaching for her hands. She let me take them, but she didn’t look at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking about what I was asking you to sacrifice.”
“I know you’re scared,” she whispered. “I know you’re desperate. But I can’t be your temporary wife, Colby. I can’t pretend to be in love with you when . . .”
She trailed off, and my heart stopped. “When what?”
She pulled her hands free and stepped back. “When it would hurt too much to pretend.”
Before I could process what she’d said, before I could ask what she meant, she was walking toward her car. I followed her down the porch steps, my mind reeling.
“Gianna, wait.”
She paused with her hand on the car door. “Call your lawyer tomorrow. Fight this the right way. You’re a good father, Colby. Any judge will see that.”
“And if they don’t? If I lose him?”
She looked at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across her face. “I need to think about this, Colby. This isn’t something you just decide on a Tuesday night.”
“I know. I’m sorry for springing it on you like this.”
“Call your lawyer tomorrow either way,” she said, getting into her car. “You need to know what you’re really up against.”
I watched her drive away, then walked back into my house. The silence felt heavier now, pressing down on my shoulders like a weight I couldn’t shake. I made my way to the living room and sank onto the couch, my eyes drawn to the family photos scattered across the side table.
There was one from last Christmas: Luca sitting on my lap, both of us grinning at the camera while Gianna made faces in the background to make him laugh. We looked like a family. We looked complete.
I picked up the frame, running my thumb along the edge. Luca’s gap-toothed smile stared back at me, so trusting, so innocent. He had no idea his world might be about to changeforever. No idea that his mother wanted to take him away from everything he’d ever known.
My throat tightened. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let Lyla destroy what we’d built here, this imperfect but loving home where Luca felt safe and wanted.
I have to fight for him, I thought, my grip tightening on the picture frame. For us.
CHAPTER 2
Gianna
Istood in the back room of Blossom & Vine, staring at a half-finished arrangement of autumn chrysanthemums and wondering how I’d managed to mess up something so simple. The bronze and gold blooms should have complemented each other perfectly, but instead they looked chaotic, unbalanced like my thoughts after last night’s conversation with Colby.
What if you were my wife?
The words had been echoing in my head since I’d driven away from his house twelve hours ago. I’d barely slept, tossing and turning while my mind replayed every moment of our conversation. The desperation in his steel-gray eyes. The way his voice had cracked when he’d said he couldn’t lose Luca. The impossible request that had made my heart race for all the wrong reasons.
The bell above the front door chimed, and I heard footsteps on the old hardwood floors. I glanced at the clock. It was eight-thirty in the morning. We weren’t officially open until nine, but I’d unlocked the door when I’d arrived at seven, too restless to stay home.
“We’re not quite open yet,” I called out, not looking up from the stubborn arrangement.
“Good thing I’m not here as a customer.”
I recognized the voice immediately. Summer Redman, my closest friend besides Colby, and conveniently the daughter-in-law of Kay Redman who often watched Luca. Summer ran the bakery three doors down and had a talent for showing up exactly when I needed to talk.