Page 236 of Bitter Poetry

Hope and renewal.

“I bled for you. I’d do it again: all day, any day.”

I don’t deserve him. I’m not worthy. Despite my many times standing before the mirror where I tell myself that I am, I still don’t believe it deep down inside. But, at moments like this—with them—I don’t care anymore.

I don’tcareanymore. If all I have is this pleasure, this sublime sensation of connection, then I’ll take it.

“Tell me you’re mine.”

“I’m yours, Christian. You know I am.”

“You’re damn right you are.”

He’s not like Dante. Dante can sometimes mask the savage that lurks beneath his skin. Christian doesn’t try to pretend he’s anything else. He is utterly unashamed.

He has saved me so many times.

If he needed him to, I know he would save me again.

Do I believe in myself? Maybe not quite yet, but I’m getting there. It’s time to pay forward my trust. To believe in their love for me. And if I belong to them, if they demand this, they’d best understand that they, likewise, belong to me.

CHRISTIAN

We tag team her.

It’s not a very civilized approach to claiming a woman who’s having some commitment issues, yet here we are.

Dante can’t let her go, and neither can I. She’s scared. We need to be strong for her and protect our woman, even from herself, by whatever means we must.

It’s fucking hot. I swear she goes into a kind of heat. The more we fuck her, the more she wants.

CHAPTER 70

CARMELA

It’s three weeks after the marathon sexscapade where they broke me and the last of my resistance, after which I concluded living without them wasn’t an option.

I’m not fool enough to believe there will never be another moment of doubt, but I am resolved to work through those moments with them instead of trying to run away.

What I’m not ready for is to be pregnant.

“Did you miss any?” Jessica asks.

We’re in my bathroom. Dante and Christian have left. I’m holding my pill packet, double-checking it.

“It has the days on,” I finally say. “It’s obvious if you miss one. I haven’t missed any.”

“What about taking them late?” Her eyes go to the pregnancy test sitting on the side. “Maybe I should have gotten you a few extra tests. You know, in case this one is broken.”

“It’s not broken.” I put the pill packet down and try not to freak out. Deep down, I know I’m pregnant.

“Aunty Jessica,” she muses, with a smirk.

“God, don’t,” I mutter.

“You’ll make a great mom, Carmela.” She gives me a shoulder bump. “They will be happy. Papa will be thrilled too. But the only person who really matters right now is you. Are you happy? Do you want this?” Her eyes search mine.

I’m still freaking out. But if I look underneath, past the anxiety that wants to crush me, I discover I’m… happy… excited even… as well as understandably nervous about such a momentous change. “I would have liked a bit more time before this happened.” I smile, then bite my lip as my stomach flutters. “But, yes, I am. I’m happy.” My smile grows wider.