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“I was going to come home,” she cries. “I had a ticket booked for next week.”
“Cancel it,” I say harshly. “We’re going home today.”
She doesn’t even argue. “Christian—”
She tries to get off the bed but I step out the door before she can even try. Her friend’s still waiting outside, and she offers me a sympathetic smile that I ignore. My world was just thrown off its axis today. Now, I don’t know what to think.
I don’t say a word to Daniella the entire flight home. She tries to talk to me once.
“Christian, you need to at least hear what I have to say.”
“Don’t talk to me,” I say harshly, getting to my feet and switching seats so I don’t have to look at her.
Eventually, she goes quiet. An hour later, I move to stand in front of her. She’s asleep. She must be fucking exhausted. And she’s fucking pregnant.
It doesn’t matter how many times I say that to myself, there’s a fucking baby in her stomach and it’s mine. I can’t believe this. I talked to her every day. We fucking FaceTimed and she didn’t say a word.
Betrayal hurts like a fucking bitch. It hurts even more when it comes from someone you love. Which is why no matter how beautiful she looks right now, no matter how much it hurts that I can’t hold her or kiss her like I’ve wanted to all this time, I step away.
I’ve lived my life closing my heart out to people for fear of being burned. And the one person I let in ended up doing exactly that. I just can’t help but wonder, why didn’t she tell me?
* * *
“Christian!”Daniella snaps as we walk into the house. “You have to talk to me sometime. It’s been hours.”
If I talk to her right now, I won’t have anything good to say. I’m incapable of having a rational conversation at the moment so she needs to leave me alone.
My mom steps out of the living room with Carlo right behind her.
“You’re back,” she says, letting out a breath of relief. “What happened to Daniella?”
I step aside so they can take her in. Mom’s brown eyes widen.
“Dios mio,” she breathes. “Daniella, you’re pregnant.”
“Trust me, Mom,” I drawl, “she knows.”
I brush past them and head up the stairs to my room. Then I remember it’s her room too and stop. Turning around, I head toward the front door instead. Carlo places a hand on my shoulder.
“You good?” he asks.
“Fucking fine,” I reply, shrugging his arm off.
I don’t return to the house for two days. I’m still not ready to forgive her. But I had to check in and make sure she’s okay.
My mom’s still around when I walk in. She calls me into the kitchen and there’s this serious expression on her face.
“Where is she?” I ask, leaning against the wall.
“She’s asleep in her room. She’s still getting used to the change in time zones,” she replies before looking at me. “Christian, I raised you better than to ignore your pregnant fiancée for two days.”
“She can take care of herself. She's been doing so for nearly six months.”
“I know you’re angry,” Mom says placatingly.
“That’s the thing, Mom. I’m not angry, I’m just hurt. Why didn’t tell me?”
My mom steps in front of me and places a hand on my shoulder. “She had her reasons,figilia mia. They were not necessarily good ones. But you need to try to understand her. Regardless of what has happened, you’ll be parents soon. You need to fix this.”
