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“I’m going to need you to talk to me, Frankie Falcone.” I keep my voice stern, forcing him to look at me.
My own eyes brim with tears, and I let out a shaky breath.
“Please. What’s going on? Our baby is fine. Don’t make me do this on my own, Frankie. I need you here with me.”
He tips his head down, so I stroke his hair lightly.
I want to know what has caused this reaction, but equally, I know he isn’t ready to tell me. If this is ever going to work between us, he has to open up to me, to trust me.
Maybe I have to show him I trust him, too. Completely and utterly.
43
FRANKIE
“Are you coming to bed?” Zara stands by my desk with her hand on her hip. Even in her tone, she’s had enough of me today.
After spending the rest of the day at Grayson’s for Christmas, I couldn’t shake that grief that crept over me. It’s something I’ve worked so hard to keep away.
I shake my head, not looking away from the screen. My heart races as the office door slams shut. Leaning back in the chair, I release a tired exhale.
I have everything I want in my grasp. Pouring myself another glass of scotch, I pull out the ultrasound picture from my pocket and fixate on that little dot.
Our baby. Our future.
All fucking day, all I can replay in my mind is that house going up in flames.
The way Zara looked at me with pity in her eyes earlier.
I don’t know how long I sit here, not letting go of the pictures. Fearing that If I do, I might lose them again.
Staring until my eyes physically hurt, I drag myself out of the office and creep towards our bedroom, not wanting to disturb Zara. I just want to crawl in next to her and remind myself that she is mine. She isn’t going anywhere, despite what my brain might be telling me.
I feel my heart pounding in my chest as I see our bed is empty.
“Fuck,” I whisper.
Making my way down the hall, I open doors until I stumble upon her, nestled on her side with her tattooed arm wrapped around the blanket.
I swiftly undress and slip into bed beside her, wrapping my arms around her as tightly as I can. My arm encircles her stomach protectively, and I rub small circles around her belly button.
“I’m sorry,” I whisper, closing my eyes and inhaling her sweet scent. The only thing that provides me calm right now.
“It’s okay,” she whispers back.
A smile creeps up on my face.
She wiggles her ass against me, which has my cock springing to life.
“I don’t think so, Frankie. Not until we talk,” she says in a sleepy voice.
“I don’t think you get to make orders around here, angel,” I reply, but she’s right.
“Trust me, right now, I do. Now, goodnight.” She sighs against me and I can’t help the guilt swirling around in my chest.
I hug her tighter as her breathing settles. This woman is my life.
“Ti amo, dolcezza,” I whisper against her hair.
