Page 67 of Choosing Hope

My voice is unusually deep, probably because of the booze.

“Sorry, Compagno, I didn’t realize you’d be sleeping. We can speak tomorrow if you’d prefer.”

“No, it’s fine. I’m awake. I just got into bed.”

“Sophie said you were in Dubai.”

His mentioning my wife’s name makes me sit up.

“You’ve been speaking to Sophie?” I demand, desperate to ask if she’s okay.

“Yeah. I’m at your house. I hope you don’t mind. After I left Sunday night, I was called to sort something out at the London hotel. After that, I thought I’d extend my stay. It’s been a long time since I’ve spent quality time with Lily and Sophie, and after everything that’s happened recently, I thought it best Sophie had backup.”

My heart sinks thinking about the sadness I’ve brought into what should be a happy home. Overwhelmed with grief, my chest contracts, making it difficult to inhale a complete breath.

Carlo often used to stay with Sophie when I went away, but that was before. When we were all in a relationship together.

Since Lily’s birth, as far as I’m aware, their relationship has been more distant. I’m aware they chat through social media, and Sophie often sends Carlo cute photos of our daughter, but I don’t think they speak regularly. Carlo hasn’t visited the house unless I’m there.

Our conversation on Friday echoes through my mind. He was very forceful in his belief that I should speak to Sophie, insistent that I tell her what had been going on.

“You fucking two-faced bastard!” I growl. “What have you told her?”

“Don’t you dare accuse me; you’re an arrogant asshole. I didn’t tell Sophie anything. And I’m insulted that you’re even suggesting it.”

The venom in his tone stings. I slam my eyes shut, trying to stop them from burning with emotion.

“We talked, but it was hard this weekend with you and Lily there. Then, this morning, I had to leave for my flight at four. When I get back, I’m planning to take some time off, or maybe I’ll work from home to spend quality time with her.”

“Halleluiah!” he snaps, no doubt still stinging from my earlier comment. “You’ve never been so close to losing everything you love, Spence. That woman adores you. She puts up with all your shit and hasdone for years. You’ll be a fucking fool to lose her and Lily, but I’ve warned you and warned you, I can’t do this anymore.”

A tear escapes from my eye, and drips down onto my pillow. I hate arguing with Carlo.

“Can I speak to her?” I ask, my voice weak.

“No, she’s gone to bed.” His words clipped. “Sort yourself out, Spencer. If you can’t stop what you’re doing in that fucking club, let her go. Let Sophie find someone who’ll love her and give her the life she deserves.”

A spark of anger flares through me.

“Like you, you mean?” The drink is fueling my resentment. “Sophie pushed you away the minute she found out she was pregnant. I don’t understand why you’re being so forgiving.”

“She had her reasons.”

I’m just about to say something else, but I can tell from the tone of his voice he hasn’t finished, so I wait for him to continue.

“She didn’t know which of us was Lily’s father, Spence,” he hisses through gritted teeth.

That revelation steals the breath from my lungs. The booze I’ve consumed tonight fogs my logical thoughts.

“Lily could be yours?” I ask, my whole world crumbling.

“For fuck’s sake, Spencer, how much have you had to drink?”

Aware his question is rhetorical; I let him finish.

“Have you looked at your daughter recently? She’s the perfect blend of you and Sophie. The point is, Sophie wasn’t certain for several weeks during her pregnancy. She didn’t want to tell you because she knew it would break you.”

I lean back on the headrest, my mind buzzing with noise.