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“No,” he yells when I pick up the screwdriver.
Bringing it to his right eye, I say, “This is for Sabella. For my wife.”
ChapterNineteen
Sabella
After the lieutenant’s visit, I don’t go to the village. I’m too worried Angelo will show up, demanding to know what we talked about outside. Of course, he won’t believe me when I tell him I didn’t sell him out, and if he doesn’t believe me, he doesn’t deserve my honesty.
I keep busy by baking—I discovered that I enjoy the activity—and by cleaning the house. The garden is mostly self-sustained, the indigenous plants not requiring additional watering, but some of the bushes need pruning in preparation for spring. I make a mental note to remind Angelo to send his garden service company. I know a little about gardening from what I picked up when my mom gave our gardener instructions, but, like with cooking, I’m a beginner at this.
As I flip through the channels on the television to distract myself in the afternoon, I notice the date on the news channel. I put aside the remote, uneasiness spreading through me as I do a mental calculation.
My period should’ve started by now, but only by a couple of days. It’s nothing. I’m often late. However, four weeks have passed. The pregnancy test should show results by now.
I leave the television on in my haste to go upstairs. Once I’m in the dressing room, I freeze. I’m scared. I miss Mattie. I wish I didn’t have to do this alone. I can do with a bit of moral support. Mrs. Campana will be understanding, but it’s too late to go to the village. Even with the bike, I won’t make it back before sunset, and after the lieutenant’s visit, there’s no doubt that Angelo will show up tonight.
My hands shake when I take the test from the clutch bag in which I hid it. In the bathroom, I tear the package open and read the instructions twice. Cold sweat beads on my forehead as I uncap the stick and get ready to pee on it. I almost abandon it at the last minute, but I got the test for a reason, so I may as well go through with it.
I imagine the relief when it turns out negative. I’ll be able to relax with a glass of wine. I’ll get on with my messy life without having to drag an innocent baby into it. Angelo won’t force me to have children, not after he promised.
A part of me is scared for a different reason. I’m scared that I’ll be disappointed if the test is negative. It’s a bizarre notion, one I can’t explain.
Scraping together my courage, I do what needs to be done. My nerves are all over the place when I wash my hands and count the seconds in my head. I don’t even get to thirty before two blue lines appear in the window on the stick.
It’s impossible.
It can’t be.
Yet the proof is right in front of my eyes.
I’m pregnant.
I’m going to have Angelo’s baby.
Bracing my palms on the vanity, I support my weight on my arms. Sweat breaks out over my body. A rush of heat runs over my skin only to be doused by a wave of coldness. My head spins, leaving me dizzy.
A baby.
A tiny life growing inside me.
A sense of wonder washes over me. I place a trembling hand over my belly. A surge of protectiveness assaults me, and then follows joy. I’ve never experienced anything like it. It’s different to my feelings for my family and my husband. Words can’t define the love that bursts like a beautiful, fragile bubble inside me and fills every molecule of my being.
“Oh my God,” I whisper with a soft laugh, tears building in my eyes.
Happiness takes on a new meaning. I’m dumbstruck with awe, but I’m also frightened. Yet I don’t wish for a different outcome. Despite the many reasons why a baby in our world is a bad idea, I’m grateful the test is positive.
I have no one to share the news with other than the reflection in the mirror. The face of the woman smiling back at me is already radiant with the secret she carries. She’s different, this woman. Her love feels deeper. Bottomless. Her capacity for forgiveness is endless. This woman isn’t afraid or uncertain of her future. She no longer cares about unimportant details. This woman is confident and strong.
Like the magnificent love that crashed over me, forgiveness burns like a purifying fire inside, incinerating all the bitterness and the blame. An enormous weight lifts off my shoulders. For the first time in years, I feel free. The chains of my past that kept me a prisoner of my own unhappiness are broken. My heart is so light it feels as if it will float to the ceiling. And as that incredible sensation washes over me, I know what my decision will be.
I choose my husband.
Angelo.
Angelo.
My darkness and my light.
