Page 20

I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling as post-breakfast nausea returned for the third morning in a row. I grabbed a pillow and turned to my side, placing it between my legs and throwing one foot out to cool my body.

For three days now, I’d been stuck in my room with nothing to do but oscillate between feeling sick and feeling hurt. Gio’s hurtful words and accusations always lingered at the back of my mind. He thought I wasn’t trustworthy. He thought I’d betrayed him.

We needed to talk, I knew that. But I was so tired from all that had happened, that I allowed myself to ignore the inevitable for as long as I could. The truth was, I feared what more he could have said. I feared reliving that pain and hurt.

No matter what I did, it seemed he was intent on believing the worse of me.

Yet, at the same time, I knew he didn’t entirely hate me. Something still lingered within him, a rope of affection. It was that pull that caused him to come and go a few times a day as he checked on me between work, meetings, and calls. He always ensured that I ate. He offered to call the doctor.

He was doing everything in being supportive, but lacking the one thing I needed from him: trust.

For some reason, he too hadn’t brought up our argument. I knew he was waiting for when I’d feel better.

I tried to sleep, but sleep evaded me. My stomach was churning like a complete bender. I sighed and tried to sit up, but the dizziness washed over me again.

Just then, I heard a knock on the door.

“Come in,” my voice sounded weak.

Gio poked his head through the door, and upon seeing that I was presentable, walked over. He adjusted my pillow without me asking, and when his fingers brushed the back of my neck, I felt that familiar current.

But with it came a tight knot in my throat. I averted my gaze from his and for some reason, found nothing better than to stare at my hands.

“You need to drink more water,” he said, placing a glass on my nightstand.

“Mm-hmm,” I nodded.

“The maid said you threw up last night.”

“This morning too,” I said.

When I looked back at him, he frowned and reached to test my forehead. “No fever. You sure I shouldn’t call the doctor?”

“Maybe if I feel the same in a few more days,” I offered.

He nodded. “I’m heading into work now. See you in the evening.”

“Have a good day,” I said, lying back down as he left. He paused at the doorway and gave me one lingering look, as though there was so much more he needed to say, but walked out without another word.

It had become like that between us now: polite and distant. Both our minds, I knew, were reliving that fight every single waking moment.

***

Things remained the same, but I didn't have the energy to confront him about his accusations. Not when my body was continuing to betray me. Even the smell of eggs sent me rushing to the bathroom and left me retching in the pot.

On the fifth or sixth morning, the maid appeared with my usual eggs, toast, and bacon. I tried to eat a bit, but threw it all up.

“Screw this shit,” I groaned as I made my way back to bed. And that’s when it hit me.

The sickness came at the smell of food. Always, food. At other times, I was fine. Weak and dizzy, but fine.

Just then, a nagging suspicion began to form in my mind. I'd been too caught up in our fight and then my illness to notice what should have been obvious: I couldn't remember my last period. I'd lost track of time in this house.

My mind raced with possibilities as I lay in bed, the realization sinking in. The pieces were starting to come together in a way that I couldn’t ignore.

Could it be? Was it even possible?

What was I going to do? I needed…help.

In that moment, I knew I couldn’t just walk out and buy what I needed. I also didn’t want to risk having it delivered. What if someone saw? What if I had to involve others before I knew for certain?

There was only one feasible possibility.

With shaky hands, I reached for my phone and dialed Elena's number.

“Elena? It's Larissa.” My voice sounded strange to my own ears. “I need your help.”

“Larissa?” She sounded confused by my call. Of course she did; she was Gio’s sister. But as I explained, her eagerness to help was all I needed to know I’d made the right call.

Over an hour later, Elena slipped into my bedroom, her eyes widening at my appearance.

“You look like death warmed over,” she said as she leaned in for a hug.

“Thanks. Always good for my ego.” I managed a weak smile, and then she pulled out a paper bag and handed it to me.

“I got what you asked for,” she said carefully, kindly.

“Thank you, Elena. I’m so sorry to have bothered you.”

“Hush now,” she grasped my hand and shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize.”

I nodded and peered into the bag, my heart stuttering at the sight of the pregnancy test inside.

“You sure you're...?” Elena trailed off, perching at the edge of my bed.

I shrugged, afraid to say it aloud. “I don’t know for certain. I've been sick every morning. I'm late. And I just—I have this feeling.”

Elena squeezed my hand. “No matter what, I'm here. Let me know if there’s anything else I can do for you.”

Elena helped me to the bathroom, opening the door for me. “I’ll be right out here,” she said with a gentle smile. I nodded, too nervous to say anything, and closed the door behind me.

I peeled open the box and followed the test instructions with shaking hands. As the minutes ticked by, the seconds dragged on like an eternity, and I felt my heart pounding in my chest. The anticipation was suffocating, and I knew my life could change in three whole minutes.

At last, the time was up. I drew in a shaky breath and glanced down at the test in my trembling hands.

Two pink lines.

My heart stopped. Everything around me seemed to fade into the background, leaving only me and that undeniable confirmation that things would never be the same again. Life, as I knew it, had changed.

I was pregnant.

A rush of emotions flooded through me—fear, uncertainty, but also a glimmer of something else. A sliver of hope and joy. The smallest, but fighting with every passing second to be heard.

When I stepped out of the bathroom, Elena's eyes searched mine for answers even before I uttered a word. I walked over to where she sat on the sofa, and took a seat beside her, placing the test between us.

“Holy shit,” Elena whispered, eyes fixed on the test. “You're having my brother's baby.”

I was pregnant. With Gio's child. While he still thought I might have betrayed him. While I was still hurt by his lack of faith in me. While we were broken in ways I wasn't sure could be repaired.

Would he even want a baby? A baby with me?

A nervous knot formed in my chest and I grabbed Elena’s wrist. “You can't tell him. Promise me, Elena. I need to be the one to tell him when the time is right.”

“Of course,” she assured me without skipping a beat. “I wouldn’t dare take this away from you.”

She misunderstood. I didn’t want to surprise him. I needed time to think, but I knew I couldn’t tell her that.

“Thank you,” I whispered as she leaned in to give me a hug. She held me tightly, and I allowed myself a moment of respite, the touch soothing me.

“Congratulations,” she whispered again as she pulled away.

“Thank you,” I said again, this time daring to break out into the smallest smile.

***

After Elena left, I curled up in bed. My heart raced at various speeds. It calmed when I thought of a tiny being in my arms at some point in the future. I panicked when I thought of Gio, terrified that he might not want this baby.

What if he still couldn't trust me? What kind of life would our child have, caught between parents who couldn't bridge their differences?

What should I do, I wondered. Would it be better for my child if I kept this a secret? How long could I have kept this secret?

The sound of the door opening startled me from my thoughts. I looked up to see it was Gio, back from work.

“Hey,” he said softly, entering and closing the door behind him. “How are you?”

“On the mend,” I said in an equally soft voice. That was true. Now that I knew I was pregnant, I realized I needed to change my diet, and I would be fine. But, I didn’t tell him that.

“I’m glad to hear it,” he said. To my surprise, rather than leaving as he usually did after our polite exchanges of the past few days, he walked up to me and perched himself on the side of my bed. I scooted over, giving him some space and when I looked back at him, frowned at the dark circles bruising under his eyes.

“You haven’t been sleeping well,” I observed. He looked up in surprise that I hadn’t masked my concern or my judgment.

“No,” he shook his head in admittance. “I haven’t.”

“Something on your mind?”

“Larissa,” he sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “I've been an idiot.”

“That's not news,” I said, though my attempt at humor fell flat. The pain still lingered and shone through.

“I should have trusted you,” he sighed and reached for my hand, but I was still so hurt that I couldn’t help but pull it away. I saw a flash of hurt in his eyes and for a moment, felt guilty as hell for being the cause of it, but he owed me a better explanation before I pretended all was fine.

“You should have,” I whispered, clasping my hands in my lap as I waited for him to explain. “What changed?”

“I’ve been thinking of all the times I was wrong. You’ve never given me a reason to not trust you, but I thought otherwise from the start. What happened that day… I should have given you a chance to explain before accusing you. I let my fears cloud my judgment.”

“Your fear?” I asked. “Fear of what, Gio?”

Pain flashed in his eyes, and when he looked at me, he seemed positively haunted. “Fear that I let myself imagine you wanted the same things I wanted. Fear that I’d dug myself in too deep and I couldn’t imagine the pain of losing you, Larissa.”

I wanted to cling to my anger, to make him suffer a little longer for doubting me, but the sincerity in his eyes broke through my defenses. I reached out now and took his hand in mine. His eyes widened, and I saw the relief in them when his gaze met mine.

“You saw me with Dominic and assumed the worst,” I said quietly. “After everything we've shared, you thought I would betray you to him.”

Gio's fingers tightened around mine. “When I saw you with him, I thought you didn’t want to be with me. I couldn’t see anything beyond that sense of abandonment. But that's no excuse.”

His vulnerability cracked open something inside me.

“Give me your phone,” I said. “The one I stole.”

With a curious look, he pulled it out of his pocket and handed it to me without question.

That in itself, was progress enough for me, a sign of trust.

“I went to the mall that day to give you and Caspian privacy during your argument,” I explained, navigating to the video recording from the mall. “I ran into Dominic by accident. When he started asking questions about where I’d been, I thought I could help by influencing him to slip up and see if he knew anything about the attack on your operation that day.”

I pressed play, and Dominic's voice filled the room.

“I could never get him to finish what he was saying,” I said as the video ended. “You came before I could. I spoke to him in a public space, Gio. I lured him into the food court because I didn’t want to risk him grabbing me to take back to my brothers.”

Gio looked positively astonished. “I'm sorry,” he whispered, his voice thick with regret. I knew then he wanted to say more, but he first needed to work through the guilt he was facing, clearly etched across his face.

“Why didn't you tell me about this recording right away? It would have proven your innocence.”

I shook my head softly. “Because I wanted you to trust me without proof. I wanted your faith, Gio, not your validation after evidence. Trust isn't real if you need proof.”

He hung his head, his forehead pressing against our joined hands. “I don't deserve you.”

“No, you don't,” I agreed, but I reached out to cup his face, tilting it up to meet my eyes. “But I choose you anyway. Just like you chose me. We both said things we regret.”

“I'm sorry,” he whispered, voice rough with emotion. “For not trusting you.”

“And I'm sorry for lashing out instead of explaining,” I admitted. “We both have work to do.”

He leaned forward, pressing his lips to mine. I felt the broken pieces between us beginning to heal. But then, I remembered what I was doing. I was keeping yet another secret, and this time, the guilt played at my heart.

I pulled away and leaned back into the pillows, suddenly needing space to think.

“You tired?” Gio asked, concerned.

“A little,” I said. I was tired. So much had happened today, but with us having talked, I knew I could finally get some sleep. A few days of rest, and then I’ll decide what to say, if at all, about the baby. Just some rest.

***

The next day, I finally felt better, especially after I canceled all eggs for breakfast. After enjoying some watermelon, which felt so right, and a slice of toast, I showered for the first time in days. Aware that the morning sickness might return at any moment, I cherished the temporary relief and decided to take a relaxing day.

I stepped out of the shower in my towel and took my time blow-drying my hair. Then, I pulled out some nail polish and chose a pretty pink color.

When Gio returned from an afternoon meeting, I was sitting on the bed in nothing but a towel, music playing softly from my phone as I applied a second coat of polish to my toenails.

I heard the knock and delivered the customary “Come in.” By now, I knew his knock, knew it was him.

When I looked up with a smile, I saw him frozen in the doorway. His eyes literally darkened as they traveled down to my bare shoulders to the precarious edge of the towel at my thighs.

“You're looking better,” he said, voice dropping to a low register that instantly made heat pool between my legs.

“I'm feeling better.” I capped the nail polish and set it aside, turning to him with a playful grin.

He approached slowly with a devilish grin of his own. “That towel looks good on you.”

“Does it?” I smiled, leaning back on my elbows in a deliberate display. “I was thinking of taking it off.”

“You’re positively evil,” he growled as he reached out and made space for himself on the bed. His fingers then traced the edge of the towel where it crossed my chest. “I've missed you. God, how I’ve missed you.”

“Really? I couldn’t tell,” I said nonchalantly, purposely acting haughty in the way I knew he liked.

“Larissaaa…” he sang, and his hand cupped my cheek. When I looked over, he shook his head once in warning, telling me not to push him.

But that’s what I wanted. Needed. After days of cold war, I wanted to put it behind us. Without wasting a second, I parted my lips and his eyes traveled down.

He didn’t need more encouragement. Gio’s lips crashed onto mine and I kissed him back hard, my lips moving at a feverish pace as I slid them across his lips. He parted for me, and I drove right in, tasting the roof of his mouth, feeling the curl of his tongue and then he fought back, pushing my tongue and his back into my mouth.

Days of tension and hurt dissolved under the heat of his mouth, the press of his body against mine. His hands slid beneath the towel, thumbs brushing the undersides of my breasts, and I gasped into his mouth.

“Too much?” he asked, pulling back slightly with concern.

“Not enough,” I answered, reaching for his tie and loosening it with a single tug. “I need to feel you.”

He tugged at the towel until it whooshed off my body and I heard his breath catch at the sight and feel of my naked body. “Beautiful,” he murmured, tracing a reverent path from my throat to my navel. “So fucking beautiful.”

I worked at his shirt buttons while he kissed his way down my neck and across my collarbones. When his mouth closed over my nipple, I arched into him with a sharp cry, suddenly oversensitive—a side effect of pregnancy I hadn't anticipated. Though of course he didn’t know that.

“Sensitive?” He looked up, a wicked gleam in his eyes.

“Shut up and take your clothes off,” I growled, pushing his shirt off his shoulders.

He chuckled as he rose and stripped off all his clothes in a matter of seconds.

“Impressive,” I smirked.

“Oh, you haven’t seen the half of it,” he growled as I slid over and he got into bed. I stopped thinking, stopped feeling anything but a fire for him as he lay there naked within inches. I ran a hand down the hard planes of that gorgeous, impossible chest, all the way down to the muscles leading between his legs and when I slid down and crouched on my knees before him, his eyes widened with surprise.

“What?” I whispered. “Girls can’t have fun?”

He looked positively feverish when I reached for him and wrapped my fingers around his length, feeling his skin stretch over the hardness. His groan of pleasure sent a thrill through me, a rush of power at knowing I could reduce this dangerous man to trembling need.

“I want to taste you,” I said, positioning myself on my knees and forearms and dipping my head low. Before he could respond, I took him into my mouth, relishing his sharp intake of breath.

I worked him slowly at first, tongue circling the sensitive head, hand gripping the base where my mouth couldn't reach. His fingers tangled in my hair, not forcing, just holding, connecting us as I took him deeper.

“Fuck, Larissa,” he hissed. “Your mouth...”

I hollowed my cheeks, sucking harder, feeling drunk on his responses—the tightening of his grip, the tensing of his thighs, the way his breathing grew ragged. I felt pure, unadulterated power at his weakening.

When I glanced up, Gio’s head was thrown back. His eyes opened just then, meeting mine, and the raw hunger I saw there got me wet between my legs.

His hands tightened in my hair, guiding me deeper until he hit the back of my throat. I felt the tears spring to my eyes from the pressure, but it felt too damn hot to stop and sucked harder. Just as his breathing became erratic, signaling he was close, he pulled away, leaving himself unfinished.

“Not yet,” he growled, reaching to grab me by the waist as he turned and pulled me beneath him. “I need to feel you now.”

His fingers found me slick and ready, testing my wetness with a satisfied hum as he pulled out. “So wet for me already.”

He was now above me, positioning himself at my entrance. But, he paused and waited for the usual command. I nodded, wrapping my legs around his waist, pulling him closer.

He entered me in one smooth thrust that had both of us gasping. For a moment, we stayed perfectly still, savoring the sweetness of being joined like this.

“God, you feel so good,” he whispered against my lips.

“Make me feel good,” I answered, rocking my hips.

“Demanding,” he chuckled, leaning in for a kiss.

He began to move with deep, deliberate strokes that hit exactly where I needed him. My nails dug into his back as the pleasure built inside me, tension coiling tighter with each thrust. When his thumb found my clit, circling with just the right pressure, I lurched off the bed.

“That's it,” he encouraged, increasing his pace. “Let go for me, sweetheart.”

I mewled as I met his thrust with one of my own. Then, another. The next thing I knew, he was pounding into me, and my entire body shook from the strength of his cock. I reached down and clutched the sheets, throwing my head back, and when he slid his hand beneath my ass and tilted me up toward him until his cock hit just beneath my clit from the inside, I felt the tension ready to uncoil.

“Gio,” I moaned. “I’m close.”

“Mm-hmm,” was all the response he could muster and when I felt his cock throb, I knew why. He was close too. He then rammed into me, his balls pressing into me and that was when the coil snapped, spreading through me like wildfire.

I screamed out his name and then moaned when words lost all meaning. I shuddered and focused on the pleasure swimming through every nerve, every vein, every drop of my blood, and he followed right after, pulsing into me with a grunt just as I rode out the last of my waves.

We lay tangled together afterward, our breathing slowly returning to normal as my fingers traced lazy patterns on his chest. The secret of our child still hovered unspoken between us, but in that moment, I felt hope blooming alongside the life growing within me. We had broken, but we had begun to mend. And perhaps, when the time was right, I could share the news I carried and pray he found it good.