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“Then you are. You’d be the best mother, sorella, I know it.”
I think about it for a couple more minutes before coming to a decision.
“Okay, fine. You can go and buy the test. Make sure Danny doesn’t find out.”
She leaves me alone in the room. I’m fidgety, pacing the length of it for the entirety of the time she’s gone. When she returns, I take the test, and Lucia holds my hand as we wait for the results. Lucia squeals when it comes out positive.
“Oh my God, congratulations, Rory,” she grins.
A part of me is inexplicably happy at the news. The other part can’t even begin to fathom how I’m going to make this work. Not when the fate of my relationship with the baby’s father still hangs in the balance. That’s the logical part of my brain. That part is already thinking of a way out of this mess.
“We should go to the hospital,” Lucia says. “Get you checked out to find out how far along you are.”
“We can’t leave the house without Danny seeing us,” I state. “And he can’t find out. He’ll have to tell Nico, and I don’t, I…I can’t.”
Lucia rubs my arm comfortingly. “We can use the back door to get out. He won’t even see us.”
“Okay.”
The doctor confirms that I’m pregnant. Seven weeks along, actually. I place a tentative hand on my baby, unable to believe that it’s been in my stomach for so long, and I couldn’t feel a thing. The doctor asks if I want to do an ultrasound, and I agree. The moment I see the moving black-and-white spot on the screen, all my thoughts quiet down.
My lips part as I watch the fetus moving and hear its booming heartbeat.
“Would you like to know the gender?”
I shake my head. I haven’t even told the father yet. Finding out the gender without him feels like a betrayal. The doctor nods. I keep watching the screen, tears gathering in my eyes. Because I realize that I want to hold this baby in my arms. I want to love it and take care of it and watch it grow.
And I’m suddenly terrified that Nico might not want that as well.
Lucia and I agree not to tell anyone about the baby for now. The only person who knows apart from us is Sabrina, and I only call to tell her because she made me promise never to keep anything from her again. I was supposed to return to Chicago a week ago, but I sent a text to Nico asking for more time and he agreed.
I miss him like hell, though. And I hate that we’re in this limbo situation, unsure of what the next steps are going to be.
“Honey, I’m home,” Lucia calls as she walks through her front door, taking off her jacket.
“How was work?” I ask from my position on her couch.
“It was good. As always. How do you feel?”
“Pregnant.”
She smiles. “Have you eaten?”
“Yeah, I made some pasta earlier. You can go get some.”
“Thank you. Love you,” she says, heading for the kitchen.
When she comes back outside with her plate, her gaze moves toward the TV, which is currently on.
“I thought you hated movies like this,” she states, sitting beside me on the couch.
“Yeah, but I’m starting to find a sense of comfort in them, too. I hate how unrealistic they are. But that’s the point, though. They’re not going to make a movie about a woman who’s in a fake marriage with her husband and is currently pregnant with said man but is unsure if she wants to continue a relationship with him. It’s a complicated mess. No one’s going to write that into a film.”
“Wanna bet?” Lucia grins. “I could get in touch with a writer in Hollywood.”
My lips twitch. “It does sound riveting.”
“Your life would make a great soap opera, sorella.”
