I’m woken some time later by the feeling of Salvatore lifting me out of the car and into his arms, cradling me against his chest. I blink my eyes open to see the shape of the hotel ahead of us, rising up in a stately white shape against the dark skyline, and I look up at him. “You don’t need to do all of this—” I mumble sleepily, and Salvatore shakes his head.
“Shh,” he murmurs, kissing the top of my head lightly. “I want to take care of you, Gia. And our unborn child. So you’re going to let me do just that.”
It’s the closest he’s ever come to telling me how he feels. I soak in the words, half wondering if I’m dreaming as I lay my head against his shoulder, sinking back into sleep all over again.
—
I don’t get a chance to take the test until I wake up the next morning. I slept so hard that I barely registered Salvatore taking me up to our room, or putting me in the huge king-sized bed that took up a good portion of the suite. I feel a little guilty for wasting the chance to enjoy the bed together, but appreciative that he let me sleep.
He’s still asleep when I wake up, and I slide carefully out of bed, heading to the bathroom. The pregnancy test is sitting out on the counter, and my heart flips in my chest as I pick up the box.
I’m nervous to take it. Not because I don’t want it to be positive, but because I want it to be positive so badly. Salvatore has said that he’s not in any hurry, and that he’s happy to have me to himself for as long as it takes, and I feel the same way. But I’m ready to start a family with him. I’ve been ready to have my own family since I was old enough to start thinking about marriage.
My fingers shake a little as I slip one of the tests out of the box. It’s easy enough to take. Minutes later, I’m standing at the counter, watching the little window as I wait for the result. And when it shows up, the word pregnant clearly written there, I cover my mouth with my hands to muffle my yelp of excitement.
I grab the test, rush back out into the bedroom, and jump onto the bed. Salvatore groans, rolling onto his back as his eyes flutter open, and he blinks several times as he peers up at me.
“What’s going on—what are you waving at me, tesoro?”
His voice is deep, raspy with sleep, and in any other circumstances, I’d be quick to slide back into bed with him and bask in all the deliciously dirty things that voice can whisper in my ear. But right now, my thoughts are entirely consumed with one thing.
“Look,” I whisper, pushing the test closer to his face. “I’m pregnant.”
Salvatore comes fully awake in an instant, sitting up abruptly as he reaches for it. I don’t realize I’m holding my breath until the moment his face lights up, his gaze meeting mine with such absolute elation that I realize just how afraid I was that he wouldn’t be happy.
“Tesoro. Gia.” He breathes my name, dropping the test on the nightstand as he pulls me close, his hand sliding into my hair as he kisses me. “How are you? How do you feel?”
“I’m fine,” I laugh, breaking the kiss and pulling back. “I don’t feel sick this morning, actually. Maybe I have evening sickness instead.”
“Whatever sickness you have, I’ll make sure you’re taken care of.” He throws the blankets back, sliding out of bed and tugging on a shirt. “I’ll call room service now, and get them to bring breakfast up. Coffee—decaf, of course?—”
I can already see his mind spinning, thinking of how I need to be protected, doted on, for the length of this just-realized pregnancy. And I know he’s showing me how much he cares for me, that he loves me, in ways that words can’t measure up to.
But still, I can’t help but feel a little disappointed that he didn’t say the words. I’d hoped he would, when I told him the news, that this would be the thing that pulled it out of him.
It makes me fear that things aren’t as fixed as I thought they were. That there are still things between us that need to be repaired—or maybe that can’t be. That maybe Salvatore can’t let his walls down completely after building them so high for so many years.
But as I watch my husband bustle around the room, calling downstairs for my breakfast and intent on making sure I’m pampered within an inch of my life, I tell myself to stay optimistic.
Things have been different between us ever since Tahiti. Today, every obstacle to our happiness will be removed. And by tonight, there will be nothing left but us.
I have to hope that’s all he will need.
—
I might not have morning sickness, but I underestimated just how tired even early pregnancy would make me. After breakfast, I end up napping again until lunch, and then eat with Salvatore downstairs while he goes over some paperwork on his tablet. I can feel his agitation from across the table, and I know he’s trying to keep himself busy until the wedding. I do the same, nestling in an armchair with a book after lunch, until it’s time to get ready.
About three o’clock, I get into the shower, taking my time. Salvatore waits for me to finish—I’ve found that he likes his space in the shower—and then swaps places with me while I dry and style my hair, curling it in long, bouncy pieces before pinning them up on my head on a twisted chignon that makes me look put-together and elegant. My dress for the wedding is a soft sage green silk, with off-the-shoulder sleeves and a scooped neckline, the slits on either side coming up modestly to just above my knees. It’s a beautiful dress, meant to make me look every bit the wife of the don, while not drawing too much attention. I slip it on, and I’m just finished putting on my strappy nude high heels when Salvatore walks out of the bathroom in his suit, a box in his hand.
I look up at him, surprised. I’d brought the onyx and diamond jewelry he gave me as my first gift from him—I hadn’t expected anything else. The box is small, and my heart stutters in my chest for a moment, wondering if he’s going to give me a ring. I’m still just wearing the plain, thin gold band that he slipped on my finger at our wedding, and there’s never been any discussion of getting me anything else.
“I wanted to surprise you with this,” Salvatore says, holding out the box. “But I think the news today makes them even more meaningful.”
I feel a slight drop in my stomach, a momentary disappointment that it’s not a ring, but it’s almost immediately overshadowed by how happy he is that we’re having a baby. I reach for the box, opening it, and gasp softly when I see the long, sapphire drop earrings, a diamond stud at the top, and a teardrop at the very bottom framing them.
“They’re gorgeous,” I whisper, immediately slipping them free to put them on. “Thank you.”
Salvatore puts a hand on my waist, drawing me in to kiss him. “Not as beautiful as you, tesoro.” His hand on my waist tightens as my lips press against his, and I feel the tension thrumming through him, wound tight. We’re both on edge, and I can’t help but wonder if we really have to go to the reception, or if our presence at the ceremony is enough. I don’t want to spend all night watching my former fiancé enjoy his wedding reception—I’d rather come back to the hotel and enjoy this gorgeous suite with my husband.