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It baffles me to realize that just when I thought we might be finding a way to live with our arrangement, it turns out she wants nothing to do with me.
Fine.
We don’t need to talk while I walk.
The landscape changes around us as we make our way back into the trees and toward home. I focus on the path ahead, determined not to let Tia’s words get under my skin. But beneath the stoic exterior, her accusations gnaw at me, a seed of doubt taking root.
Tia breaks the silence once more, her voice softer this time. “Leo, why do you choose violence when there are other ways?”
I grit my teeth, the question cutting deeper than she realizes. “Sometimes, there’s no other choice.”
“You always have a choice,” she murmurs, her eyes intent on my face.
I work my jaw as I struggle to keep my temper under tight wraps. “You should keep your mouth shut about what you don’t understand.”
She falls silent once more, her eyes shifting to her lap as her eyebrows buckle into a frown.
I carry her through the growing darkness, each step holding the weight of the unspoken words between us. Thankfully, Tia’s light, easy to carry, and after over an hour of walking, the house starts to come into view.
Relief surges through me. Not because I’m struggling to hold her—I would be perfectly fine to carry her farther if need be. But she exerted herself quite strenuously and took a pretty terrible fall. Not to mention, her ankle definitely needs attending to.
As soon as we get to the house, I’m calling the doctor so I can ensure she and the baby are okay.
26
TIA
The bedroom is well-lit, the soft glow of the bedside lamp casting a warm hue across Leo’s face. He sits silently beside me, lost in thought, his expression brooding. The air is heavy with tension as I recline on the bed, nervously fidgeting with the hem of my shirt as I try not to worry about my baby.
The events of the day replay in my mind like a broken record, each moment a jumble of fear and anxiety. How did we go from waking up in each other’s arms to this bottomless chasm of uncertainty between us?
The door creaks open, and the doctor steps inside, his expression unreadable as he carries his medical equipment in with him. Leo stands, turning to face him as he moves out of the way. My heart pounds as I wait for the doctor to start the exam. Then his eyes meet mine, and soft reassurance settles onto his face.
“How are you feeling today, Signora Moretti?” he asks kindly, his familiar demeanor soothing when I’m already overwhelmed with stress.
He’s the same doctor who’s visited me about the pregnancy from the beginning, and today, I’m more than grateful that Leo and his father let me keep him on.
“I was fine until a few hours ago. But I had a pretty bad fall. I just want to know that my baby’s okay.” I rest my palm protectively over my abdomen, fighting to keep my trembling chin under control.
“Of course.” Dr. Luca pats my hand comfortingly. Then he settles onto the bed beside me, hooking his stethoscope into his ears.
My eyes shift to Leo. My husband stands at the foot of the bed now, one arm lying across his chest, the other palm resting on his cheek in a look of disconcerted anxiety. It’s an uncharacteristic display of emotion. I don’t like seeing it now, when all our minds are on the welfare of the tiny life inside me.
The doctor first listens to my heart and lungs, checking my vitals and shining a light in my eyes. Then he moves on to the baby, retrieving a portable ultrasound machine from his bag. Slathering my stomach with clear goo, he runs the wand over my belly.
And for one terrifying moment, I don’t hear anything.
“There they are,” he says, a smile breaking across his face as the hummingbird thrum of my baby’s heartbeat fills the room.
I gasp, tears stinging my eyes as relief washes through me. And when I look at Leo, I’m shocked by the wonder that takes over his proud features. His hand falls from his face, his eyes widening as he stares openly at my belly. Then he looks up to meet my eyes.
The deep emotion there rocks me to my core, and for the first time, I can see what it means to Leo to be a father. It shakes me deeply to realize the child I’m carrying is as significant to him as it is to me. He might not love me, but he already loves our baby.
Fighting to subdue the wave of emotion that threatens to consume me, I clear my throat. “Is she okay?” I breathe, my heart fluttering nervously. And to my astonishment, the baby’s heartbeat increases, filling the room with energy as it matches mine.
Dr. Luca smiles knowingly. Finished with his inspection, he takes the wand away from my belly and offers me some Kleenex to clean myself up.
But before he can answer my question, Leo cuts in. “She?”
