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I pace my bedroom for the hundredth time, biting on my fingernails, but the turning of my door handle has me spinning on my heels at my door opening.
Shaw slips into the room, but not before looking over his shoulder as though he’s being followed.
I take in his white shirt stretching over his firm shoulders. His styled hair appears a little messy, as though he’s been rubbing his hands through it, and my fingers itch to do just that.
“I wanted to make sure that you’re okay.” He breathes out with concern twinkling in his blue eyes.
His gaze travels over the oversized t-shirt I’m wearing, and I nibble my lip when they stop on the swell of my stomach.
I couldn’t wait to change out of the dinner dress I was in, and my feet ache, thanks to those damn heels.
“Thank you, I’m fine.”
There’s an odd atmosphere between us, where neither of us says a single thing. I mean, where do we start?
“The Mafia, Red?” he chokes out, still disbelieving the situation I’ve landed us in. His hands rest on his hips, and I wish for nothing more than for him to pull me into his arms like he did the night we were together.
I swallow away the guilt. “I’m sorry. I didn’t think that they would find out.”
His eyes bulge, and he nods toward my bump. “Really?”
Now it’s my turn to become annoyed. “I didn’t intend on getting pregnant,Shaw,” I snipe back, spitting his name like vitriol.
“No, you just used me to pop your cherry before your new husband did, right?”
I roll back on my heels, stunned at his outburst. I’ve grown up around men, though, so I refuse to back down when I don’t need to.
“And you used me to empty your balls. Here’s the consequences of our actions.” I wave a hand toward my stomach, and his gaze locks there, softening slightly.
Silence fills the room before he breathes out slowly.
“Is the baby okay?” His blue eyes meet mine with concern.
“Do you care?” I can’t help but snipe the words out.
His temple pulsates in anger. “Of course I fucking care. It’s my baby too. I’m not a monster, Emilia.”
“No. You’re just a cheat.” I cross my arms over my chest and stare back at him with my jaw locking tight. Had I known for one minute he had a girlfriend, I wouldn’t have so much as looked at him.
My blood curdles at the thought of being a homewrecker.
His voice becomes low as he moves closer. “I never cheated. Me and Lizzie have a”—he grimaces—“turbulent relationship.” He sighs. “I’m ending it tonight. I realize it’s not fair on either of you.”
This shocks me. In the Mafia world, if a man wants a mistress, he will have one, and the wife sure as hell has no say in it.
My shoulders deflate with guilt at affecting their relationship. “I’m sorry.” And I mean it. I never intended to turn our lives upside down like this.
He stares up at the ceiling and takes a deep breath before focusing back on me. “It’s fine. We just need to take one day at a time, right?”
I nod in agreement, hoping above all hope that he’s right.
The silence stretches between us, and I hate it, so I offer him an olive branch. “It’s Emi. Not Emilia.”
“Emi,” he repeats with his lips tipping up into a smile that lights up his whole face.
“Nice to meet you, Emi. I’m Shaw.” He holds out his hand, and I slide mine into it, my whole body coming alive under his tender touch.
My body betrays me and flushes at the contact just as my bump does a little wiggle.
