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I rub at the pain in my chest at the thought of losing her and the baby, and I refuse to accept it.
They’re it for me.
They both are.
EIGHTEEN
EMI
Iroll over in bed as the light streams through the windows, making me blink in uncertainty at the shadow on the chair.
Moving to sit up, I rub the sleep from my eyes and focus more, realizing it’s Shaw.
“I’m sorry.” His tone is full of sympathy, but I choose to ignore it. A good Mafia wife bites her tongue, after all.
Instead, I throw the sheet off me and head toward the bathroom. Just as I begin to pee, Shaw walks in, and I gasp in shock. “Shaw, I’m peeing.”
He waves his hand. “Yeah. I don’t mind. I need you to know how sorry I am.” I take in the dark circles below his eyes and his messy hair, his shirt untucked and the sincerity in his voice.
I move my hand to tug off the toilet tissue, but Shaw is already there with a piece for me.What the hell?He thrusts it into my hand when I don’t make a move for it.
I discreetly wipe and then flush the toilet. Washing my hands, I take a deep breath. “It’s fine.”
I clench my eyes shut when his palms wrap around my bump and his soft breath grazes my neck as he places a gentle kiss there.
“It’s not fine and I’m sorry, Red.”
I flinch at his contact, making him draw back as my eyes flare open. They lock with his through the mirror, and the intensity of his stare sends a shiver down my spine. “I’m sorry, baby. Really fucking sorry.”
I nod at his words and dry my hands on the hand towel.
“I’ll call in to work today. I’m sure they can get another scan for us.”
I grind my jaw. He’s made no attempt to explain what the holdup was and why the hell his so-called ex-girlfriend was in his office for so long, nor any attempt to explain what actually happened between them. I’ll be damned if I let him think he can fix this by throwing money at another scan.
“It’s fine. I was happy with the scan I had yesterday.” I lift my chin.
He freezes and his chest heaves, but I ignore him and push past him, heading toward the bedroom.
“You went without me?” Accusation in his voice makes my pulse race with anger. He follows me, mouth agape as I get dressed, anger bubbling to the surface once again.
“I knocked on your door and you told me to fuck off.” I shrug at my white lie.
Shaw’s mouth drops open before he clamps it shut again, seemingly lost for words. He spins on his heel, walks back into the bathroom, and slams the door shut behind him. I jump at a loud thud.
I ignore the outburst and instead throw myself into doing something constructive. Seeing the baby yesterday made me truly excited, and today is going to be a great day. I refuse to let Shaw Grant and his ex affect me and my baby.
SHAW
I sent text after text asking where she’d gone. I was even tempted to call her brother but refrained from doing so, knowing he would probably shoot me in the head— or worse, my balls—for hurting his sister.
When Emi told me she went for our baby’s scan, I felt like I’d been kicked in the gut. Not only was that something I wanted to witness, but it was something meant to be special between the two of us and bump. The thought of her seeing bump’s face for the first time without me sends a searing pain shooting through my chest and disappointment curdling inside my stomach.
I fucked up. Big time. And I need to make it right.
When I heard the knock on the door, Emi never entered my mind. All I could think about was stopping my crazy ass ex from losing her shit and causing a scene even further. Look where that got me. Now my wife thinks I don’t want her.
Sure, she hasn’t said as much, but I can see the look of hurt and the insecurity behind her eyes, and I hate it. She deserves to be treasured, respected, and loved. I did none of those things yesterday, and I hate myself for it.
