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The cab dropped her off out the front and she walked slowly up the steps – snow and ice made them perilous – then pushed the front door inwards.
She shook the snow off her jacket before removing it and hanging it on a hook, her beanie followed, then she locked the door behind her and moved deeper into the house. It was completely silent.
With a heavy sigh, she put some carols and grabbed a banana from the fruit bowl, peeling it distractedly.
A girl.
They were having a daughter. And now, the emotions that had been locked inside of her during the appointment came screaming through her and she started to cry: loud, ugly sobs wrenching her apart.
Because knowing it was a girl changed everything – just as knowing it was a boy would have. She could see them clearly now – their family, as they might have been. She could see Vitalo as a father to a daughter, scooping down to pick her up and hold her close, to swim with her and play with her and make her giggle. Would she be like Bella and Sophia had been, with long, blonde-hair and too-skinny legs?
Bella sobbed, abandoning the banana on the bench top and grabbing her phone from her handbag. She stared at it for a moment, and then pulled the sonogram photo from her pocket, carefully aiming it away from the light so she could get a clear photo of it on her phone.
There was a little reflection, but not too much. She loaded it into a text message and started to type.
Vitalo, I had a scan today. The baby’s fine. We’re having a daughter.
Her finger hovered over the keyboard for a moment, and there were a thousand other things she wanted to say, but none of them needed to be said. None of them mattered.
Because she saw everything so differently now. Time, perspective, distance. She saw the way he’d been at the wedding – not just drinking scotch heavily, but angry. Dark. Resentful. Bitter.
Hurting.
He’d been hurting.
And he’d used her to hurt a little less.
He hadn’t ca
red who she was, he’d just wanted to sleep with someone to put his anger out of his mind. He’d slept with Bella to get over Kat.
That certainty and thought would never dissipate, and nothing would ever make it hurt less.
Grinding her teeth together, she sent the text message and turned her phone off. She didn’t want to know if he replied.
Exhausted, she lay down on the sofa and prayed for the oblivion of sleep.
*
Vitalo, I had a scan today. The baby’s fine. We’re having a daughter.
He stared at the screen, his heart in his throat.
A girl! A baby girl.
God, Bella.
A visceral, gut-wrenching pain spread through him, an ache low in his gut as he read the message again and thought of his wife. He thought of her going to an obstetrics appointment on her own, of her lying on a table being examined, of her heart and mind as she learned more about her baby, their baby. He thought of her alone and his stomach swooped.
He pushed up from behind his desk, his breath raspy, his mind moving over the pieces. It had been two weeks.
Two weeks since he’d spoken to Sophia, and every day and every night he had fought an urge to call Bella. To call and make her listen to him. He’d drafted an email he’d never sent, an email that said everything he’d already said. An email that told her he’d never loved anyone before. Youthful infatuation was different. But, God, he’d messed everything up.
If only he’d told her the truth from the start, they might have found a way past it, a way to move forward. If he’d told her the truth once they were married, even, she would have listened and he could have moved more slowly, helping her come to terms with whatever there was between him and Kat – nothing, from his perspective – before they grew closer on their own terms.
He’d lied to her. He’d lied because he hadn’t wanted to risk upsetting her.
He strode across the room, staring down at Athens unseeing. He hadn’t been back to the island. He couldn’t bring himself to look upon the tree she’d decorated, knowing she wouldn’t be there to enjoy it with him.
