Page 147 of Diego

“That is not what I mean.”

Mario waits.

I think about Blair’s apartment again, about the way the space seemed to close around us once the conversation turned serious. “I think I made her feel like the baby gave me authority over her. That was not what I wanted.”

“Then make sure your actions show her otherwise.”

I let out a slow breath and nod, because that is the first thing anyone has said since last night that feels useful. The security is staying. I am not changing my mind about that, and I know Mario would not let me even if I tried.

But there is a difference between protecting Blair and making every decision for her, and last night I came closer to crossing that line than I am comfortable admitting.

Mario stands and straightens his jacket. “You are going to be fine.”

I look at him skeptically. “That your expert opinion?”

“My opinion as the brother who has been watching you panic quietly since you found out.”

“I am not panicking.”

“Hmm.”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Get out.”

Mario smiles as he reaches the door. “Try to get something done before lunch, will you?”

“Fuck you.”

He leaves laughing, and the door closes behind him. I return to my chair and pull the report back in front of me, but before I start reading, I sit there for another moment thinking about what he said.

I cannot change the world my child is being born into.

But I can make damn sure Blair does not feel suffocated by it.

Chapter Twenty Six

Blair

I have been in a bad mood for a week.

That is probably the easiest way to describe it, although it feels inadequate considering how thoroughly the mood has oozed into every part of my life. I have been irritable at work, impatient with emails, annoyed by clients who normally would not bother me, and offended by minor inconveniences like slow elevators and people who stop in the middle of crowded sidewalks. I know exactly when it started too.

Seven days ago, Diego sat on my couch, ate my pizza, informed me that I had been assigned security without my knowledge, and then explained that it would stay that way or he would take my child away.

After that, I asked him for some time, which, granted, he has given me. But he has sent a message or two to check on me. I have not answered a single one.

I have watched his name appear on my phone, swiped away the message, and gone back to whatever I was doing without feeling particularly guilty. Next week I have my first official appointment for the baby, which means my ability to avoid him has an expiration date because I already agreed he could come.

Until then, he can suffer.

Unfortunately, I am doing a decent amount of suffering myself.

The last two weeks have been relentless. Work has exploded since the Conti sale, and while I am grateful for every new client and referral, I am beginning to understand why successful brokers always look like they are answering emails while walking, eating, and possibly sleeping.

My calendar has been packed, my phone never stops, and I have spent enough time driving between properties that I am starting to recognize construction crews by intersection.

Add the nausea, the strange waves of exhaustion, the occasional dizziness, and the fact that I am still trying to process an unplanned pregnancy with a man like Diego, and I have not exactly been operating at peak serenity.

Today is my day off.