Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 121996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 121996 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 610(@200wpm)___ 488(@250wpm)___ 407(@300wpm)
I laugh silently, shaking my head. I actually could use a drink, but I haven’t told her yet that I won’t be having one anytime soon. I haven’t even told Alessio about the pregnancy test I took two weeks ago, but eventually, I’ll have to. Right now, I just can’t think about that conversation.
I could use a meal. I reply. I’m starving.
“Me too.” She reaches for my arm, looping it through hers. “Come on, then. Let’s get you fed.”
We end up at the martini bar and cafe that’s become one of our regular haunts. Abella and I get our own table while Manuel and her guard watch from a few tables back. It’s still awkward, but she was right that I’d get used to it. Manuel has always been professional, and I feel safe in his presence, but he informed me that I’d have a new guard starting this weekend. Apparently, it’s customary for every member to have their own guard in families of Sovereign Sons. When I asked if it was because they were a target, Manuel skirted around the subject, but it was obvious that was the reason. It makes me nervous, but I’m grateful that Manuel looks out for Nino, and I’ll have someone to look out for me too. I know Alessio can take care of himself, and that brings me some relief.
The waitress comes to take our drink order, and Abella orders herself a martini and a burger. I order a Sprite and fries with cheese dip.
“That’s an interesting combination.” She wrinkles her nose. “Why aren’t you having a—”
She stops midsentence as something seems to occur to her. Before I can say anything, her eyes drift to my stomach, widening, and she switches to ASL.
No way. Are you pregnant already?
I bite my lip, holding back tears as I nod. There’s no point trying to hide it from her. She’ll know anyway, and I trust that she won’t let my secret slip. If anything, her excitement is a welcome reprieve from the turmoil in my mind. I’m happy about this baby, but I don’t know if Alessio will be.
How long? She asks.
It has to be from the wedding night. That’s the only time it could have happened.
Her face falls, and she reaches her hand across the table briefly to squeeze mine. Things are still not good?
No. I reach for my napkin, folding over the edges to give my fingers something to do. I don’t know how much longer I can take it. He’s miserable. I’m miserable. But mostly, I’m just heartbroken. I don’t even know why he married me. Who wants to live this way?
Abella considers the question for a few moments. Do you think it has something to do with his family?
Yes, I admit. But I don’t know for sure because he doesn’t talk to me about it. He’s never said anything.
I don’t know him that well, Abella says. But we grew up in the same circles. I know he’s never had a girlfriend before you. It seems like he was avoiding any kind of intimate relationship.
I stare at her in confusion. He’s never had a girlfriend before me? I thought you said there were a bunch of women trying to land him.
Yes, trying. She emphasizes the word with her hands. But he never dated any of them. Even in high school, as far as I’m aware. It’s weird. I think what his father did to his mother really screwed with his head.
I lean back against my seat, grateful for the interruption when the waitress delivers our drinks. It gives me a moment to contemplate what Abella just said. It makes sense that Alessio is having difficulty navigating his emotions with me if I’m the first woman in his life. The first real relationship he’s had. He’s my first intimate relationship, too, other than a few innocent dates I had in college before Enzo happened. It doesn’t change anything though, does it? At the end of the day, I’m the one willing to make an effort, and he isn’t. We can’t work through his issues if he’s not willing to let me in.
Look, I’m no expert. Abella leans forward as the waitress leaves. But I think you should try again. I know he’s been a total dick, but men have the emotional maturity of children sometimes. Maybe he just doesn’t know how to fix things.
I shake my head, my temples throbbing at the idea of putting myself out there again. He hurt me, and I know I hurt him, but he hasn’t forgiven me, and I don’t think I can stand one more of his rejections.
If he wants to fix it, then he needs to say so. If he doesn’t, then I guess we’ll both need to figure out a way to move on.
I get it, Abella says. But if you love him, and you want to make this work, what do you have to lose at this point? If he hurts you again, then wash your hands of it. But I think you two could have something special, and real love is rare. So, if that’s what you think this is, grab onto it with both hands and don’t let go.