Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 101247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101247 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 506(@200wpm)___ 405(@250wpm)___ 337(@300wpm)
I take slow breaths and slightly open my eyes. Valentino is lying on his side, his back to me. I stare at him for several minutes, tracing each muscle with my gaze, wondering how he will react if I reach out to touch him.
After what feels like forever, Valentino’s breathing evens out, and I can tell he’s fallen asleep. He must be so tired. My hands itch to touch him. I rub my stomach gently, feeling a fierce love inside of me. Not only for the baby but for the man beside me.
“I’m pregnant, Valentino,” I whisper, wishing I had the courage to tell him when he was awake. “We’re going to have a baby.”
Valentino suddenly rolls off the bed, and lights flood the room. I gasp and shut my eyes for a few seconds before slowly opening them, readjusting to the sudden brightness. Valentino stands over me, his eyes wide with shock and another emotion I can’t quite place.
His gaze roams my body, and my cheeks burn at his intense perusal.
“Francesca?” I almost sob at hearing my name on his lips. It’s been so long since I’ve heard it. I don’t even mind that he’s calling me Francesca instead of his little star. I’ll take it.
“What did you say?”
“I thought you were asleep,” I mumble, lowering my eyes.
Valentino climbs onto the bed. “What did you say, Francesca?”
“I’m pregnant.” I still cannot look at him because I’m afraid of what I’ll see in his eyes.
Suddenly, his hands touch my face, so loving and gentle that tears burn the backs of my eyes. His hands cup my jaw, tilting my head until my gaze meets his.
“Say that again for me, mia piccolo perla,” he whispers, and tears begin to slip quickly down my eyes. “And I want you to look at me while you say it.”
“I’m pregnant, Valentino. Five weeks pregnant.”
“Oh,” he groans and pulls me to him in a tight hug. He pats my hair affectionately and kisses my forehead. “When did you find out?”
“Today.” I melt into his arms, my heart fluttering like a butterfly as all the broken pieces come together again.
“Oh, little pearl, I’ve been such a stupid dick. Instead of waiting for you to apologize, I should have been here for you,” he says in a tormented voice. “I’m so sorry. I should have been here with you, holding your hand. I’m so sorry.”
“Where did you go? It’s been days.”
“Italy,” he says. “But I returned yesterday.”
“Why didn’t you come home?”
“Because there’s no more joy here,” he says. “We aren’t speaking to each other, we don’t laugh with each other, there’s just an oppressive silence that I simply can’t bear.”
“Valentino, I’m sorr—”
He puts his hand across my lips. “No. Don’t apologize. No woman should have to watch a video of her husband getting a lap dance. You reacted in exactly the appropriate way. It was my stupid pride that made the situation worse,” he says. “I should have acted like a real man and resolved things immediately instead of behaving like a pussy and letting it drag on and—”
“Valentino.” I touch his face. “I’m sorry I hurt you.”
His eyes soften as he stares at me.
“I’m sorry I brought up Thomas. I promise I’ll never do it again.”
“And about that video you saw,” he says quickly. Clearly, he doesn’t want to spoil the moment talking about Thomas. “It’s not entirely true. I—”
“It’s okay. I know what happened. Roberto told me.”
“I should never have agreed to the challenge. I know that now.”
“It’s okay, my darling.” I whisper.
“I’ll never do anything again.”
“I believe you.” My heart is so full of love for him it feels like it will burst inside my chest.
He lowers his head to my stomach. “Five weeks pregnant, huh? Is it too early to hear my baby’s heartbeat?”
I gasp with shock. “Did you just say ‘my baby’? What about me?”
He chuckles, gathering me into his arms. “Our baby. Our baby, of course.”
“It’s too early. He or she is just a little bigger than a bean now.”
“Awww… our own bean.”
“You know, I wasn’t sure you’d be happy with this news.”
He freezes. “What? Why?”
“I thought you hated me.”
“What?” He kisses my shoulders. “Hate you? You have no idea how I feel about you.”
It’s not a love confession, but it’s good enough. I’m in love with him, and right now, I want to tell him, regardless of whether he feels the same way, but I don’t want to ruin this moment by coming on all hot and heavy. I might push him away, so I stay silent.
“Francesca,” he calls. “Listen, I know the foundation of this marriage sucks, but it doesn’t have to stay that way.”
“What do you mean?”
“Let’s start afresh,” he says. “I want to be the husband of your dreams. I want to be the man you want.”
When Valentino says stuff like this, I can almost believe he loves me, but I don’t want to get my hopes up and have it dashed later.