Page 178 of My Husband’s New Fiancée

“You’re completely insane.”

A smile stretches across his lips.

“No. I plan ahead. Anything that can be delegated gets delegated. The time we’ll have together, I want us to truly enjoy it. If one day you feel like cooking, we’ll cook. But I want it to be a choice, never an obligation.”

His words touch me more than I want to admit.

I cradle his face in my hands before pressing a kiss to his lips.

“Still haven’t figured it out? I love every minute spent with you. Even the ones where we’re cleaning or cooking.”

I smile faintly.

“But fine… we can compromise. A cook during the week and… a nanny for the baby.”

The words linger between us.

I know immediately what he’s thinking about.

The baby he’s going to have with Bianca.

And it hurts.

He’s thinking about that child. I’m thinking about the secret already growing inside me.

This would be the perfect moment to tell him I’m pregnant too.

But I can’t do it.

None of this is fair.

Dante notices my shift in mood immediately.

Without asking a single question, he simply pulls me into his arms.

He doesn’t try to reassure me. He doesn’t promise me everything will be okay. He just holds me.

And for the first time, I finally let myself break down.

45. Galette des Rois

Valeria

Sunday, January 8

This Sunday, we’re hosting Dante’s family and Hugo’s family for galette des rois.

The two families are meeting for the first time, and I have absolutely no concerns about whether they’ll get along.

We ordered lunch from a caterer. I wasn’t sure I’d be up for cooking with Dante and then enjoying the gathering afterward. Damn pregnancy hormones. And to think there are women who sail through pregnancy feeling wonderful. Radiant. Full of energy.

Life is deeply unfair sometimes.

Amelia and Victor arrive first, both wearing delighted smiles. They hug me warmly before presenting me with an assortment of chocolates from La Mère de Famille and a beautiful green plant.

“Thank you. This is for me,” I say, immediately claiming the box of chocolates. “The plant is for Dante.”

My former in-laws burst out laughing.