Page 62 of A Treasure To Keep

El

Idropped off Andrea at work after we met with our lawyer. The only thing everyone can agree on is that the three of us, plus our lawyers, need to meet. We’re hoping this meeting will be in a lawyer’s office, not at the Leone estate.

Initially, my plan was to head straight home, but after the text I received this morning, I find myself sitting in front of my favorite coffee shop. The first thing I notice is the SUV that I know belongs to him. I should have known that he would join her.

I shake off my nerves and head into the coffee shop, first hearing a giggle to the right before turning and seeing them. Alessandro, Luci, and Gia. The perfect little adorable family they are. It should make me sick, but instead, it makes my on-pause ovaries ache.

The ding of the bell on the door causes Luci to turn in my direction, giving a sweet smile as a welcome. Alessandro notices her reaction, too, and turns around. His response is more stoic, unable to read what’s happening in his head. Typical.

C’mon, El. You can do this. Shoulders back, tits up, and try not to be a fucking bitch. Even I’ll admit that the sass has been on full display over the last few months.

Alessandro stands with Gia, walking in my direction. He pauses for a second as he reaches me, scanning me up and down before speaking.

“Don’t shoot her down. Hear her out. She misses her best friend.” He sits down at a table with Gia between the door and where Luci is sitting to protect her, yet far enough to give us privacy.

My racing heart overpowers the clicking of my heels on the laminate floor until I reach the table. Luci holds tightly onto her coffee cup. An obvious attempt to keep her hands from shaking. She hates confrontation.

“Hi, El. I got you a decaf iced vanilla latte.” Ugh! A dream. A girl could use the caffeine, though. Stupid pregnancy. I can’t have anything fun. Except for the ability to make love with Andrea. Sometimes. Only in certain positions. That’s not the point here. What’s the point? Oh yeah, pregnancy prevents you from eating and drinking all the good things I love.

I pull out the chair, sitting down silently as I try to get comfortable. I attempt to cross my right leg over my left, then my left leg over my right, eventually giving up and crossing my ankles. The bigger I get, the harder it is to do certain things, most recently crossing my legs.

Luci presses her lips together, trying her best not to laugh at me. If anyone understands what I’m going through, it’s her. Gia is still young enough that she easily remembers the struggles of pregnancy.

The longer we sit without me responding, the harder it is for her to keep it in. Within thirty seconds, she is turning red, barely able to hold in her laugh. I raise an eyebrow as I wait forher, except that’s her demise. Her laughing catches Alessandro’s attention and triggers Gia to mimic Luci’s laugh.

I set my handbag on the table, taking the coffee cup in my hand. I take a sip, giving her time to collect herself before I speak. “Are you having fun laughing at my expense?”

Finally, she gathers herself, scrunching her face before she answers me. “Is it bad if I say yes?”

I should say yes, except I’d be lying. I’m pretty certain you could put a cow next to me, rolling back and forth, and you’d have a hard time guessing who’s who. “No. Because I would do the same. It’s ridiculous. My pregnancy app says that at twenty-four weeks pregnant, my baby is the size of an eggplant. I don’t believe that for a second. I mean, look at me! There’s way more than an eggplant sized baby in my belly. Fucking Marco and his giant genetics. I’ve had to buy new shoes because my feet are stupidly swollen. I refuse to wear flats.”

I’d like to hear you say that during your last trimester.”

“Let me correct myself. I don’t own any flats.”

Her mouth drops wide enough that I’m convinced it’s going to hit the floor. Most people have a similar reaction. “You what? Not even sneakers? Sandals? Flip flops?”

“Do slippers count?” My mamma bought me my first pair of heels when I was five. Before that, I wore sandals, and before I walked, I wore onesies or my bare tootsies. The older I got, the higher the heels. By the time I was in middle school, I regularly wore four-inch heels. According to Mamma, ladies only wear heels. And if there was anything she was raising me to be, it was a lady. Other than my attitude and exhibitionistic kink, she accomplished that. There have also been studies that show that heels accentuate the curvature of a woman’s body. There is something about what walking in heels does to someone's posture. Whatever, my internal monologue is getting off-topic.

Luci has stopped laughing, and it’s suspiciously quiet in this coffee shop. Gia isn’t even laughing or babbling. A rarity for the sweet baby. Luci nervously fiddles with her wedding ring, chewing on her lip as she tries to figure out how she’ll bring up what she wants to say. I’m about to say something until she speaks first.

“Thank you for meeting me. I’ve missed you. I’ve wanted to grab my phone and text you about something every day. Except I’m not sure you’d answer me if I did.”

Even though I know she’s telling the truth, our argument still rings loud in my head. Logically, I know she was expressing herself on what she thinks is the truth. Especially since Marco is her husband's best friend. On the other hand, there is the girl code. She’s supposed to always have her best friend's back. The betrayal still burns deep in my chest when I think about it.

“You should have. I would have at least enjoyed hearing about what’s going on in your life.” Silence. Silence. Silence. Then the words come out, in typical El fashion. “So, what’s the tea?”

“Gia is sitting up. I’m convinced she’s going to say her first word any day. Alessandro wants her to say, ‘Papa.’ I hear the two of them talking over the baby monitor in her nursery. On the other hand, Alessandro has his agenda when it comes to me.”

Oh. My. God. “I swear if you say he’s trying to get you pregnant again, I’m going to lose it. That man constantly thinks with his dick.”

She leans back in her chair, face turning beet red. There’s her answer. I whip my head around to Alessandro, narrowing my eyes at his grumpy face. I cannot roll my eyes any harder without getting them stuck in the back of my head. Alessandro and I sit there in our stare down, trading words through our eyes instead of our mouths. Whatever. He can stay grumpy.

Luci interrupts the death glare I’m giving Alessandro. “Can I still plan your baby shower?”

Hold on.

“You’d do that for me?” I assumed, after our argument and our lack of communication, she wouldn’t want to. I’ve been loosely chatting with James about my baby shower and what it should entail. I do not doubt that James would throw an amazing baby shower for me. I will say, there’s something different about your best friend throwing you one.