Page 75 of Thin Lives

Sometimes, it disgusted him.

She was pregnant, and married. He shouldn’t be dwelling on a single memory of how soft her skin was, or how tartly sweet her arousal had tasted in his mouth. He certainly shouldn’t be dreaming about her—dreams he wasn’t sure if they were memories, or things his mind was simply making up.

Calisto was torn in several different directions. One part of him knew he was crossing a line, and that clearly, he had already crossed one or two where Emma was concerned. Another part made him want to keep looking for more, and see what else he could find. And then there was the slightly more rational part of his brain that knew what he had done was wrong, and what he was doing was possibly worse.

So he kept a distance.

It was the best he could do, even if the bigger part of his brain practically screamed for him to go to the one thing that felt right in his strange world, even if it was wrong to everyone else.

The second call had come in late in the morning, a little before eleven. Calisto had still been getting ready to leave his place and get a start on the day. He’d called Affonso for an update on Emma, but he got no answer. This time when Ray called with his update, Calisto demanded to know where Affonso was while Emma was laboring alone.

“Celebrating,” Ray had said.

That was it.

Even when Calisto asked for more information, he was shut down. It both pissed him off, and concerned him.

It was almost like Affonso didn’t trust him.

Truthfully, Calisto didn’t trust Affonso, either.

Calisto had just taken a bite of his dinner at his favorite restaurant when the third call came in. He’d spent the day handling business, and collecting payments that should have been Ray’s responsibility to pick up. Apparently, he was needed elsewhere.

There was no answer given when he asked where Ray was needed, either.

When the third phone call had come in, Calisto knew what it was for before he even picked it up. Surprisingly, it had been Affonso on the other end, clearly happy and probably a little bit drunk if the way his words slurred were any indication.

The newest, littlest Donati principe had made his way into the world.

Calisto wasn’t sure how Affonso knew if he hadn’t been at the hospital, but he guessed his uncle had men posted, waiting for any news. He’d congratulated his uncle, and asked when he wanted Calisto to come to the hospital to see the baby.

Affonso had hummed and hawed, not giving a real answer.

Deep in the pit of his stomach, something heavy weighed Calisto down with every word he spoke. Sure, he gave his congrats, his platitudes, and pleasantries on the birth of his uncle’s son, but each word felt falser than the last. Like he didn’t really mean them at all.

And maybe he didn’t.

At the same time, he considered Emma, too.

Who had been with her when she birthed her child?

Who had helped her, encouraged her, and supported her through that hell?

No one, it seemed.

That made Calisto feel the very worst of all.

“I’m happy for you, zio,” Calisto had said one last time to Affonso.

His uncle’s response surprised him, but at the same time, it didn’t. “Are you really, Cal?”

No, he really wasn’t.

Calisto lied, instead.

“Of course, you finally have your boy.”

Calisto headed down the bright white, sterile-smelling corridor, hearing the muted sounds of murmurs and soft cries of babies coming from within the rooms of the maternity ward. He hadn’t known before arriving, but after a woman was done laboring and delivering her child, she was moved to the maternity ward where she would spend the rest of her stay.