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“Maybe not, but it’s something you need to consider and have a plan for if he does.” Julian pulls into our apartments, shutting off the engine. “You can’t go to Capo Famiglia if he does, because they’ll tell you the same thing. You can’t go to Remy. You can’t go to our parents. I don’t have a solution for you, but you need to figure something out, just in case.”
I feel ill with the conversation, nausea roiling in my gut as I take the bag Julian hands me from the back. “I’ll think of something.” I grab onto his hand before he pulls it back, lightly squeezing it. “Thank you.”
He squeezes back before gently pulling away and getting out of the car. “I have done nothing Bev, it’s all on you.”
Chapter Twelve
BEVERLY
My phone tings, a message lighting up the screen while I cook.
You free? I’m stopping by.
Wiping my hands off on the kitchen towel, I pick the phone up, opening Gavino’s message. My pulse races as I respond, knowing the last time we truly spoke didn’t go so well.
The door is open.
Setting the phone down, I hurry and unlock the door before padding back to the food on the stove, flipping the chicken in the sauce and turning the heat down before it can burn. I’m straining my pasta when I hear the door open, looking over my shoulder to see Gavino coming down the hall.
“Hey, I’m just cooking dinner.” Dumping the fettuccine back into the pan, I turn to face him. “Are you hungry? There’s enough if you’d like to join me.”
“Ah, no, I just ate.” He slides into a chair at the barstool, watching as I mix everything together. “I was just in the area and thought I’d come by since we haven’t spoken much since dinner a few days ago.”
Swallowing, my back is to him as I grab some parmesan from the fridge. “Yeah, about that.” Turning, I set the cheese on the counter, leaning against it to face him. “I’m sorry. I don’t know how everything got so out of hand.”
Gavino shrugs, his fingers tracing a vein in the marble countertop as he eyes me. “I set my expectations for the night too high. It was my fault.”
Frowning, I don’t know how to respond, so I turn back to my food. Reaching up to grab a plate from the cabinet, I hiss, grabbing my side before readjusting to get a plate down.
“You’re hurt?”
My eyes find Gavino’s over my shoulder, lightly waving his concern away. “It’s nothing.” Using tongs, I dish up my food, sprinkling some of the pre-shredded parm on top. I spin once I’ve grabbed a fork, choosing to eat at the end of the barstool but not sit. “Donatello accidentally hit me in the ribs today during our spar. It’s no big deal.”
Gavino watches me as I eat, his fingers tapping. “I don’t think you should continue boxing. Especially not if you’re getting hurt.”
I shrug, taking a bite of food. “I’ve been boxing for years, Gavino. Sometimes you get hurt. It’s not a big deal, like I said.”
“You’re going to be my wife, Beverly. I don’t want you boxing. I don’t even want you working out with Donatello anymore, if I’m being honest.” He says it casually, but there’s an edge to his voice that grinds on my nerves.
I had already decided to step back from sparring with Donatello after the accident today, but something about Gavino all but telling me I couldn’t do those things didn’t sit right with me.
“I didn’t think that becoming your wife meant you could dictate what I could and couldn’t do, Gavino.” I push my half-eaten plate aside, my teeth gnawing on my lip.
“That’s exactly what it means.” He lifts out of his chair, moving to stand in front of me. I take a step back on instinct, blinking when he grabs my upper arms. His thumbs stroke the skin despite the sharp grip. “When you’re my wife, you represent me, Beverly. I can’t have you running around with other men. I don’t want my wife acting like a man, for Christ’s sake. You are a woman,mywoman. And my women don’t box.”
My lip curls, my body fighting the urge to pull from him. “Are you kidding? You’ve been my friend for how many years now? You’ve never once expressed these kinds of feelings, let alone tried to tell me what to do.”
His fingers tighten against my skin when I shift, holding me in place. “That was before, Beverly. This is now, why don’t you start living in the present, huh?”
Scoffing, I finally knock his grip away, backing up. “I used to think I knew you. But over the last few weeks, I’ve come to realize I never truly did.” I pause, watching his jaw tick. “I think it’s time for you to leave, Gavino.”
His tongue comes out to wet his lips, his arm reaching to grab his phone and tuck it into his pocket. “You know, pretty soon you won’t be able to kick me out just because you don’t like what I have to say.”
My heart hammers in my chest. In a small way, he’s right. I can’t keep pushing him away, especially not if I want him to accept my pregnancy.
“Wait, Gavino.” My fingers sink into the fabric of his sleeve, stopping him. “I don’t want us to fight. And despite what you probably think, I’m not purposefully starting arguments with you. I’m trying to adjust to this new dynamic. It’s not fair of me, but I’m asking for just a little bit of patience.”
He turns under my touch, the pads of his fingers lightly skimming my jaw, and I let him. “I’ll try, Bev.” His fingers press against my lips before he drops his hand away, stepping back. “But I’m just about out of patience.”
