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But as one week turned to another, and another, from England to France to Switzerland, she forgot to be cautious. She forgot about Jaia. She forgot about her apartment.
About the life she’d walked out of like it was nothing.
She was in love. Quite simply for the first time in her life, she was desperately in love.
One day he looked at her across the bed they shared.
“We should go to Italy for a while.”
It occurred to her then, he was Italian. And while she realized that he must be Cambodian in part, and he spoke Khmer with ease, the accent of his English had been different than the ones she’d heard in Siem Reap.
He was Italian.
They went and stayed at an estate on the Amalfi Coast, and it was the most blindingly beautiful place she had ever seen.
And every day, she fell more desperately in love with him.
But it wasn’t until she missed her period that she began to be concerned.
Because she wouldn’t be unhappy if she was pregnant with his baby. But she was afraid... She was very afraid that he would be.
He was wonderful to her. Always. Even though he worked more now that they were in Europe, it was always gourmet meals and sex all night with Krav.
He was insatiable. Completely and utterly and she loved it.
But she was no closer to knowing him than she had been before, no matter how much she liked to tell herself otherwise. No matter how much she liked to tell herself that she must know him because she knew every inch of his body. Because she knew how to bring him to pleasure. How to make him lose control. Yet no matter how much she tried to tell herself all of that, she didn’t think he was going to receive news about a baby easily.
It was that darkness she sensed beneath it all. That predator.
There came a point when she couldn’t ignore the missed period any longer, so while Krav was working she went into the village and procured herself a pregnancy test from a drugstore. She went into the bathroom and took the test. And when it came back positive, she began to cry.
She was happy. She was. But she had a terrible feeling that it wouldn’t be easy.
She dressed herself up as perfectly as she could. He had provided her with the most beautiful clothes. And she had his chef prepare a dinner that she knew was his favorite.
It was such a funny thing, that she felt she could ask the chef to prepare something specific. She wouldn’t have done that even a week and a half ago, but she was beginning to become so settled into the life that they’d made. Is it a life if you still know nothing about him?
She just had to hope that tonight he revealed that he had the same attachment to her that she did to him.
There was a storm starting to rage, and she thought it was ominous. Though it must be either a good omen or a very bad one. Good possibly because this was how they had met. Bad because... Well, typically, a storm didn’t signal anything good.
But the table was set beautifully, his favorite pasta dish prepared to perfection.
And she had tried to make herself as beautiful as possible. As if there was a threshold that might make this all okay.
When he walked in, for a moment he looked so dark it stole her breath away. But then he looked at her and smiled.
“Dinner and you. What have I done to deserve this?”
“I just wanted to have a special evening.”
“Then a special evening we shall have.”
Outside, it was pouring rain now.
They sat down to dinner, and she waited, with all of her nervous energy, trying to force herself to eat so that he wouldn’t think something was wrong.
“I have something to tell you,” she said.
