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I wiped her cheeks with my thumbs. “Blue, I love you. I love you more than life itself, but somehow we’re always on a different page of our book.”
She lowered her head to my chest. “I love you too.” Her voice was just a whisper, her breath warm against my heartbeat. “I understand it wouldn’t be ideal, but if I’m pregnant, we’ll have to figure things out. We’re young. We could start the business later.”
Her words sliced through me like a knife. Like a chainsaw. The wound left behind, deep and raw, started festering immediately with the realization she was right. And something died inside me.
* * *
Today was shaping up to be the worst day of my life. This morning, the blood test had confirmed Blue was pregnant, and now we were heading to Frederick’s for my farewell dinner. Why the man had invited us was beyond me, but he was quite gracious about me leaving him, so the least I could do was suffer through a dinner with him.
Yesterday had been my last day at his place and I had my first day off in the longest time. And perhaps the last one too.
Instead of enjoying it with Blue, we had been tiptoeing around each other, barely speaking. The pregnancy had been hanging over our heads, making it difficult to focus, to be, to think.
I couldn’t even look at her, because suddenly the woman that was my reason to breathe and wake up in the morning, the woman that made me the happiest man alive, represented the end of my dream. Or its inevitable delay.
I wanted to be the person who would just accept what life had dealt me. Take the consequences of my own insistence on this marriage—hell, who was to say she wouldn’t have gotten pregnant if we didn’t get married? But here I was, resenting her and myself. Hurting, and by default inflicting pain on her.
We walked to the subway, holding hands. The silence between us was so loud it gave me a headache. I clung to her hand as if my life depended on it. Because it did. My ability to function, which had always been tainted by my out-of-control temper, was directly connected to this girl.
I loved her with every fiber of my life. And I hated her right now with equal conviction, so I held her hand because I worried I would lose her. Because I was scared shitless that I’d fail her… Damn it, I probably already had.
Both of us were drowning in a sea of worries and disappointment, so we stopped talking about it. We took the train in silence and made our way to Modigliani’s in Tribeca connected by our damp hands, occasionally squeezing.
“Massi, so good to see you outside the kitchen.” Frederick gave me a one-arm hug. “And your beautiful wife.” He turned to Blue and kissed her knuckles, holding onto her a beat longer than necessary. Her other hand was still intertwined with mine and she squeezed it, digging her nails into my skin.
I wasn’t sure if she was trying to stop me from reacting or sending me a distress signal, but as the images of Frederick’s drooling at the wedding came back to me, I was pleased to finally have a target for my anger and frustration.
“Let’s eat,” I growled.
Frederick studied me for a moment and I thought his lip curled up slightly. Did he enjoy getting under my skin?
“I took the liberty of planning a menu for tonight.” He led us to the back of the bright, busy bistro. When he pulled a chair out for Blue, I clenched my fists while he touched the small of her back to help her into the seat.
As we all settled at a small table in the corner of the dining room, he continued, “I’m testing a new menu and a new chef, since this guy has abandoned me.” He gestured toward me and winked at Blue.
“It’s very generous of you to host us under the circumstances, Frederick.” Blue smiled at him. “Though I’m afraid nobody can replace Massi.” She gripped my thigh under the table and the slight gesture—and her praise—placated me enough to exhale.
“You might be right, which is definitely a loss for me.” Frederick turned his head, studying me.
The man was a great restaurateur and an excellent chef. I had learned a lot from him, but I didn’t trust him. I never had.
The server came to take our drink order, and soon after we were served the appetizers. To my dismay, it was delicious. The combination of the flavor and the presentation radiated with experience and culinary artistry, making me suddenly feel dispensable, questioning if last night’s menu, prepared by me, measured up to this.
Distracted by the bout of self-doubt, I didn’t realize what Blue and Frederick were talking about until I snapped out of it, hearing his words.
“I had no idea. Now that explains why a talented chef like your husband would go to a large production kitchen like the Four Seasons.” Frederick tapped the white linen napkin at the corner of his mouth.
“But of course, it has always been the plan to open his own place.” Blue smiled and squeezed my thigh again, as if reassuring me my dream still had validity. “Ourown place,” she added, beaming.
She was fucking proud of our dream and I should have focused on that, but I couldn’t because I was too busy studying Frederick’s reaction. I hadn’t told him about my plans. No concrete evidence made me believe he would jeopardize my efforts, but I felt it was a possibility.
“Why haven’t you told me about it? This is wonderful news, and I’m looking forward to having such fine competition.” Frederick raised his glass and bowed his head briefly.
Blue smiled at me, the tension of the day still visible in her eyes, and my heart did some strange choreography that seemed way more important than anything else. I lifted her hand that rested on my leg and kissed it, trying to communicate with my eyes that we would figure things out.
She smiled again and the world seemed slightly better. I brushed her knuckles one more time with my lips and, for a moment, the world and its inevitable trouble ceased to exist. There was only me and her, the most important piece in the puzzle of my life.
Electricity zapped between us through that brief contact and I couldn’t wait to be alone with her. Not only to make love to my beautiful wife, but to tell her how sorry I was about everything.
