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I watch his back as he leaves, my skin tingling where his fingers had just been. At the click of my door, I grab my plate of food and dump it in the trash before dropping the dishes into the sink. I’m over today. I might as well go to bed and try again tomorrow.
Chapter Thirteen
BEVERLY
The sun is warm on my shoulders as I pin the top of my hair back. The loose, long-sleeved dress and thick tights I’ve chosen to wear to lunch with my mother cover the little bump of my belly well enough, but I can’t help but feel anxious that she’ll notice, anyway. My first real doctor appointment was early last week, and the sonogram I’d carefully tucked into one of my recipe books weighs heavily on my mind as I get ready to leave. I’m sixteen weeks pregnant and I still haven’t found a good time to tell Gavino. I walk on eggshells whenever he is around, tiptoeing conversations to make sure an argument doesn’t break out. We aren’t even married yet and somehow we argue more than I ever saw my mother or father do. Everything I say or do seems to tip him over the edge; every remark he takes as a personal attack.
I have to sneak my prenatal vitamins, hiding things in my cupboards so that no one will find them if they come over to my house. My visits with Remy are far and few between the last couple of weeks, which is probably a good thing since I needed to distance myself, but it is still hard to accept. I feel as if every day I am just riding the waves, moving and acting in any way I can to avoid issues. My entire life I had a plan set before me, one that I had no say in, and the only time I have ever felt as if my thoughts and opinions truly mattered was when I was with Remy.
I played the role that was expected of me my entire life until I made the choice to give up my virginity, and now, that same choice was taunting me. I feel like I’m crumbling. My castle loses another pebble every day. I constantly feel overwhelmed or tired. I don’t know how much longer I can keep up the charade that I’m fine, hold the illusion that my castle is made of steel instead of stones. I’m tired of feeling tired. I’m tired of feeling sad. I’m tired of everything all the time.And that makes me angry.I can feel myself turning into this angry, sad, confused thing. I’m swimming in the deep end and the sun is setting, the shore drifting out of sight.
Julian blames my thoughts on the pregnancy hormones, and maybe he’s right, but I know it’s more than that. Every day is a new obstacle, a new challenge with Gavino and myfamilgiaduty to be a good fiance—I do not know what is in store for me, have no say in what happens next, and the unknown makes my skin itch.
Standing from my chair, I double-check my outfit, smoothing my hand over my stomach before making my way out of the room. Snatching my phone off of the counter, I jog down to the car waiting for me and climb inside. With a quick hello from the driver, the car leaves my parking lot. My mother has been busy with Francesca planning the upcoming holiday parties and fundraisers, so I haven’t had the pleasure of spending time with her. Our relationship has been strained, to say the least, since my engagement with Gavino. I can’t help but think it’s because she finds me weak for giving in to Remy prior to our marriage.
Maybe it was ridiculous of me to think that, but the look of disappointment on her face when she found out has been ingrained in my memories. I didn’t really even want to meet her for lunch today, but it’s necessary for me to keep up appearances. I need my mother to think that I am happy and that my current relationship with Gavino is nothing short of fantastic. That way, it’s more believable that the baby I’m bringing into the world is Gavino’s. Granted, I haven’t even gotten Gavino on board yet,but I will. And having everyone else on my side will help in the long run.
Stuck in my head, it doesn’t take very long to get to the restaurant and I’m quickly standing outside of it, my arms crossed as I wait for the hostess to locate my mother’s table.
“Beverly, you look very nice today.” My mother’s voice finds me before I’m even in my chair.
“Thank you.”
She’s smiling when my eyes finally land on her, a mimosa in her hand and a bowl of fruit in front of her. She pushes the fruit toward me as I get settled in my seat, nodding to the other mimosa on the table. “I ordered mimosas and fruit, but told them we’d wait for real food until you got here.”
Picking up a strawberry, I take a bite of it before eyeing the drink. “Thank you. I’m actually not drinking right now, though.”
“You’re not? Why?” Her eyes flick over me, starting from my head and dropping to my toes before coming back to settle on my face. “You look different.”
“No, I don’t. I look the same as I always have.” Her eyes narrow marginally and my pulse spikes at her appraisal, shifting in my seat to further hide my waist behind the table. “And I’m just not, I’m—trying a detox for my health.”
She hums, lips pursed as if she’s not completely convinced, but convinced enough that she won’t question it again. “Fine, pass your drink and I’ll have it instead.”
I do as she says, picking up a grape to pop into my mouth as she sips her drink.
“How have you been? I feel as if we haven’t talked in ages. You haven’t even been by the house to read in the conservatory.” Her head is tilted thoughtfully, dark hair styled in perfect waves that sit prettily on her shoulders and complement the light tan of her skin.
“I’ve been fine. Busy.” I take a sip of the water on the table and pretend my every move isn’t being scrutinized.
“Busy? Beverly, you don’t have a job. What could you possibly be doing?”
“I don’t know why you’re saying that, like I’m some degenerate living off my daddy’s money for the hell of it. I’m not allowed to get a job, remember? When I tried, I was told it wasunbecomingfor a future wife.” I pick up another strawberry, eyeing my mother before I pop it into my mouth, speaking around it. “But if you must know, I’ve been spending time with Gavino, for the most part.”
“That’s great to hear.” She says quickly, a server joining us. I let my mother order for the both of us, continuing to pick at the fruit. Once we’re alone again, she turns back to me. “Has Gavino told you that Remy and Viva are trying for a child?”
I just about choked on the grape I’m swallowing, hacking so aggressively that the people sitting at the surrounding tables look over their shoulders with concern. Taking a drink of my water, I try to regain composure.
“You really should take smaller bites, Beverly. Are you alright?”
“I’m fine,” I say, waving away her hand that tries to fix the hair around my face. “What did you just say? About Remy? I don’t think I heard you correctly.”
She tuts, sitting back in her seat with her mimosa back in hand. “Oh, Francesca said that he and Viva were trying to get pregnant. She’s very excited about it.” My mother’s hand smooths over her tablecloth, one of her dark brows arched, “Although I’m not sure why, she doesn’t particularly love children. At least she didn’t with her own.”
My ears are ringing, ears falling deaf on whatever else she continues to prattle about. What she says can’t be true, Remy would have told me. I’m not naïve enough to think he hadn’t slept with Viva. They have been married for months, but I hoped that he wasn’t. I’m certain he would have told me if they were trying to have a baby together—wouldn’t he?
“You’ve got that look on your face, Beverly. Don’t you worry about it. Finish that fruit and your lunch when it gets here and forget I even mentioned it.” She drinks the rest of her mimosa, reaching for the one I’d discarded earlier. “Why don’t we talk about your upcoming wedding? Hmm? What colors are you thinking?”
My fingers shake in my lap as I smile politely up at the server who comes by to drop off our food, using them as a distraction from the question. I haven’t thought about my wedding with Gavino, besides knowing it was happening. I already picked out my dream wedding, and it was given to Viva. I have zero interest in going through that process again.
