Page 65 of A Treasure To Keep (Leone Legacy #2)
Andrea
E l parks after we pull up to Marco’s home, avoiding getting out of the car for as long as possible.
Eventually, she sees Dr. Rossi pull in behind us, standing in as a medical expert during our meeting.
El may not be using Dr. Rossi as her doctor, but she’s used for any medical necessity for the Leone family.
Considering that she’s most likely carrying Marco’s baby, Dr. Rossi will be asked to be around El during any major part of the pregnancy.
Dr. Rossi stands behind our car, arms crossed and eyebrows raised. Her no-bullshit attitude attracts the respect she deserves. El groans and exits the car, leaving me behind. That groan describes what we’re both thinking. We want to get this dreaded meeting over with as soon as possible.
The second I unbuckle my seatbelt, my phone rings.
When I pull it out of my pocket, I notice it’s our lawyer, James's husband. He should be here any second, and I think maybe he got lost. You could miss the turn if you’re unaware of where the gate is.
The house is far enough off the road that it’s hidden from the average eye.
“The turn is about a mile from the road on the right-hand side if you’re having a hard time finding it.” The sound of a voice over an intercom echoes in the background as I wait for his response. “Where are you? You should be here any second.”
“James and I are at the hospital. Oliver rolled off the sofa. I’m not going to be able to make it.
Remember that babies often are top-heavy.
If they’re sitting, they can tend to fall over, unfortunately, in this case, right off the sofa.
” I hear James in the background crying, blaming herself for what happened.
From what I can pick up, James leaned over to grab something, and the cushion shifted enough that Oliver went over.
“I have to go. Oliver will be okay, but James is heartbroken. It’ll take a while for me to convince her it was an accident and not her fault. I’ll contact Marco’s lawyer to talk about anything. Do not, under any circumstances, sign anything.”
Oh boy. This isn’t good. I hesitantly walk into the house after hanging up with our lawyer. El and Marco are already arguing about something, running out of the hallway that leads to Alessandro’s office.
“What the fuck are we doing here? Give me the envelope and let me move on with my life.” She goes to snatch the envelope, caught off guard when Marco lifts his arm. She would need to get a three-step ladder to reach it.
“You’re infuriating! If that thing you’re carrying is mine, I have the right to know!”
El scoffs before speaking, her mouth open in response to Marco’s statement. “Thing? I’m not growing a ‘thing’ I’m growing a fucking baby you jackass!”
El tries to jump, Marco stretching his arm higher to keep the envelope away from her. I have to admit, minus the arguing, the sight is pretty humorous.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it.”
“Maybe if you—” El bends her leg back, and I can practically sense that El is about to take off her heel to ram it into Marco’s junk. I should cut in.
“What’s going on?” They both turn their when I speak. By that time, El has her hand on the heel of her shoe. The sight adds to the heel to junk theory I had if I let the two of them continue arguing. Pregnancy has made El feistier than normal.
“Marco here neglected to mention until we arrived that his lawyer isn’t able to be here. We drove all the way out here, and now he isn’t handing over the envelope.” El jumps again twice, keeping her non-dominant hand below her belly as support while she tries to reach the envelope.
Dr. Rossi cuts in from across the room. She’s sitting in a wingback chair, staring directly at the ceiling. “I vote that we get this meeting over with. Believe it or not, my life does not revolve around this family.”
Now I guess is the right, and only time to mention our news.
“We also have unfortunate news. Our lawyer isn’t able to be here either.
He’s in the hospital with James and Oliver.
Oliver took a tumble off the sofa. They’re making sure he’s okay.
” El gasps, concern prevalent in her widened eyes.
She’s going to be such an amazing mother.
An annoyed groan comes from the direction of the wingback chair in the room. “I’ll open the fucking envelope. If it’s relevant, you three can reschedule any necessary meeting.” Dr. Rossi stands, walking over to the three of us while we still stand in the foyer.
She goes over to Marco, pressing at a pressure point that causes him to drop the envelope directly into her hand.
As she opens the envelope, my heart practically beats out of my chest. Deep down, we all know what the results will say, but it’s still just as nerve-racking.
Dr. Rossi takes her time reading over them.
Years of medical work are obvious by her poker face, only fading when her eyes move to connect with ours.
“Marco is the father. I have plans for drinks. Goodbye.” She slams the paper into Marco’s chest as she leaves the house, the three of us existing in awkward silence.
“Let me see that.” El snatches the paper from Marco, trying to blink tears away as she reads it. She’s doing everything she can to hold back her emotions. The paper falls from her hands, floating to the ground as she runs out of the house and into the car.
“I’ll have my lawyer contact yours to reschedule our meeting. That is, if you still plan on filing for partial custody.”
“Of course, I do. That’s my blood.”
Marco storms off while I stand there nodding for several seconds before following El out to her car, subtly closing the door we left open in the meantime.
I had plans tonight to remind El of how much she means to me.
Now I’m not sure anything I’d do could make anything better after we confirmed what we’ve all known.
I sit down in the passenger seat, groaning at the ridiculousness of our meeting. Or lack thereof. Immediately, I realize that my action was selfish and I should put aside my thoughts to support El. “El, I —”
“Can we go to Costco and get more pretzels?”
“We can do whatever you want.” I turn her head toward me, enough that it dislodges a single tear. I focus on it as it falls onto her cheek, leaning in to kiss it away from her perfect skin.
“A small part of me was hoping the baby was yours.” Hearing the words come out of her mouth is a larger punch to the gut than knowing she’s thinking them. I’ll never tell her that both of us were hoping for that. At the end of the day—genetics be dammed—she’s mine. Her and our baby.
“He is. Regardless of genetics, I’ll love him as much as I love you.” She nods as she starts the car, driving to Costco for more pretzels and any other snack she wants. After, I’ll wrap her up, letting her watch whatever movies she pleases as I hold her and our baby.