Page 29

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, too, 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 not to 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.”