But then he slips off the bed, wordlessly gathering his clothes, leaving me shivering without his warmth. I close my eyes and listen to the quiet sounds of him dressing.
His feet pad softly across the carpet.
I don’t watch him leave.
25
Frankie
It’shard to sleep when your thoughts are screaming at you all night long.
Unfortunately, my body clock is firmly set to wake me at sunrise, so now I’m lying in bed with my eyes wide open and literally no reason to get up. The tasting room is closed on Mondays anyway, so regardless of my questionable employment status, I have to find a way to occupy my entire day.
I haven’t felt depressed like this in a long time. Maybe ever.
Not just over the inventory debacle, or the fact that Jessica seems to have gotten away with blaming it on me—but because my husband also came inside me again last night. I’m on a losing streak right now, and I’m angry at myself for not doing more to prevent some of it.
Granted, there is little I could have done to stop Jessica. But Icancontrol my pregnancy risk. Starting now.
Dante might want an heir, but he can’t actually force me to give him one. Because even with him not using condoms, there are plenty of other birth control methods out there. Hell, I started taking the pill when I was sixteen, and I’m happy to go back on it—I just haven’t gotten around to having my prescription updated since I returned from Italy, which has left me vulnerable. Damn it. I need to add “make appointment with OBGYN” to my mental to-do list.
In fact, I’ll call today.
Hand straying over my abdomen, I think about the possibility of a baby growing there already. God, please not yet. Not when my life is such a shitshow. I’m not ready for a baby.We’renot ready for a baby.
What would having a child with Dante even be like? He’s so controlling and stone-faced most of the time, I can’t honestly imagine him as a father. Especially when he’s made it clear that he views offspring as “heirs” rather than actual children. But maybe having a kid would change him in ways I can’t imagine. Maybe he’d find a softer side of himself, patient and loving and attentive.
Or maybe he’d just be his usual cold, indifferent self, dumping our child off on a series of nannies and private boarding schools while he runs his empire.
The last thing I want to do is bring a child into this world as a guinea pig.
Reaching for my phone, I type my old gynecologist’s name into Google to get her number. Just then, a message from Charlie pops up.How fast can you get here?
My heart begins a furious pace at what’s prompting a question like that.20 min or so? What’s wrong?
Please don’t let it be Livvie.
There’s a pause and I almost call my sister, but another text comes through.Dad’s home.
“Oh, fuck.” I read those two words again. “Shit.”
I can’t move him by myself and I need you to see something. Hurry.
Can’t move him? What the hell is going on over there? Bursting from the bed, I throw on a pair of leggings and a tee shirt, slip into my sandals, and hurry out the door. I don’t even bother brushing my teeth, I’m so anxious to get over to Dad’s.
Downstairs, I swerve into the small hallway closet where the keys are kept and grab the set to my little red convertible. Dante only returned them to me recently, and I’m probably about to make him regret that decision. But maybe if I can get back soon enough, nobody will even know I was gone.
I pull the Jaguar out of the garage and speed down the long driveway, kicking up rocks under the tires. I’m just past the Bellanti gates when my cell rings.
The sound makes me jump. It has to be Dante. His spidey senses probably went off the second I crossed over the property line, and now he’s going to chew me out.
Not that I care. I’m a grown-ass adult and this is a family emergency. He can fight me.
I accept the call and hit the speakerphone button, realizing only too late that I don’t recognize the number on the screen. Is it something to do with Dad? The hospital? I answer hesitantly, my adrenaline surging.
“Hello?”
“Frankie! Hey, babe, it’s—”
