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"Really? That's amazing, Nonna!" I exclaim, genuinely happy for her.
"Yes! And I was thinking, maybe one day soon, you and Jacob could come by. We could take a walk together and have a meal. Wouldn't that be nice?"
I bite my lip, trying to mask the turmoil swelling inside me.
How do I tell her that Jacob might never come around again, especially after I lied about him being the father?
"Um, Nonna, Jacob's staying a few days in New York. His team has a big game coming up, Game Three of the hockey playoffs."
"Oh, those games." Her voice deepens with disappointment. "Well, whenever he gets back, okay? Promise me you'll bring him by?"
"Of course, Nonna. I promise," I say, although it feels like my voice might crack under the weight of the untruth.
We exchange a few more words before saying our goodbyes.
As I hang up, I can't shake the feeling of dread mixed with guilt. I've always kept my promises to Nonna, but this time, I'm not so sure I can.
Chapter 13
Jacob
Igroan as I slowly open my eyes to the familiar, sterile white of the hospital room.
My head feels like it's been through a blender, and my wrist is throbbing underneath the cast. The nurse told me the concussion and multiple contusions will take some time to heal, but I'll live.
Physically, at least.
Mentally? Emotionally? I'm not so sure.
Ever since Gabi told me I'm the father of her unborn child, my mind’s been a mess.
She laid it all out there—everything about that night we slept together after Josh's party. The night I was too drunk to remember anything. It's all been a blur, and now I'm dealing with the fallout of that hazy night.
As I lie here, it's not just the pain from my injuries that's eating at me.
It’s the guilt—the damn, suffocating guilt.
I keep replaying my life in my head, each scene more painful than the last.
Losing Mom so young, then feeling like an unwanted guest in my own home because of my stepmother.
Nonna was the only one who filled that void, caring for me along with her own grandchildren, Gabi and Giovanni. She was a mother figure to me after Mom died.
My father? He was always Switzerland, forever neutral and oblivious to how deeply his indifference cut me. The fights with my stepmother were relentless, and the last argument ended with Dad essentially choosing her over me.
I'd stormed out of the house that night, seeking solace in a bottle...or five.
The next thing I knew, I woke up to the stark reality that one night of poor choices had led me here, to this moment—to be a father before I even felt ready to navigate my own life.
I don't know what to do next.
My mind keeps drifting back to Gio. If he ever found out the truth—that I, his best friend, knocked up his little sister—there's no telling what he'd do.
Probably remove a body part or two.
And then there's George Corso, the owner of the Chicago Blades, a man with a temper hotter than his Zamboni's engine.
Considering the rumors that have been swirling around about me and his wife, he's just looking for a reason to boot me off the team. Hell, if he discovered I was involved in this mess, he wouldn't stop until he ruined me completely.
