by Sam Mariano
Once we’re closed inside the nearest bathroom, Meg braces herself against the door and stares at me.
“What’s up?” I ask.
Her gaze drops to my stomach. Inexplicably, she appears nearly as distressed as Mateo about the activity within my womb. Then she brings her gaze back to mine. “I’m the reason you’re pregnant.”
My eyebrows rise. “You’re the baby’s father? Oh, thank God. Mateo’s going to be very happy to hear this.”
“I’m not joking, Mia.” Shoulders drooping, she swallows and takes a step away from the door, closer to me. “I told Vince you were going to be at the bakery that day.”
This is a weird joke, even for Meg. I stare at her for another minute, waiting for some sign of levity, some sign that this is just one of her weird jokes, but I get the very distinct impression it isn’t. I have to work a little harder to breathe, my head automatically shaking in denial. “What?”
“He came the week you were in the Bahamas and I was there to cover you. It was impulsive and stupid, and I’m going to blame it a little on the male Morelli in my own womb right now; I think his inevitable sociopathy is infecting me while he steals all my brain cells.”
I am not at all amused. “Meg, why? Why would you…? I don’t understand.”
“I was sick of sharing. Not even sharing; I was an obligation fuck that he remembered to visit every once in a while. It sucked. It wasn’t fun anymore. These aren’t good excuses, there obviously is no good excuse, I just thought… I thought… I don’t even want to say what I thought.”
“No, say what you thought. How did you even…?” My mind is spinning. I drift backward, leaning against the sink. How could Meg betray me like this?
Sighing, she speaks quickly, like she has to get it all out as fast as possible or she’ll change her mind. “I thought if Mateo couldn’t find you, then hey, no more sharing. And if he did find you… he’d kill Vince, and it would drive a wedge between you like last time. Only this time I wouldn’t help fix it, because you’re both epically bad sharers and I wanted that to stop.”
“Jesus Christ, Meg.”
Grimacing, she says, “I know. I know. It was really bad. I’m sorry.”
I can’t stop shaking my head in bemused horror. “You are so much more Mateo than I realized.”
“I know. But I feel horrible, because I really didn’t think… I didn’t think Vince would hurt you.”
“Is this why you broke up? Does Mateo know about this?”
“God, no.” She shakes her head vehemently. “No, he would kill me. He would literally kill me.”
Yeah, he probably would. I shake my head, still reeling. “Why are you telling me?”
“Because I’ve felt horrible ever since I found out about this,” she says, indicating my stomach. “And it’s my fault, and I am guilt. I needed to tell someone, and you’re obviously the one who was the most hurt by my actions.”
“That is so fucked up. I don’t even know what to say to that, honestly.” I shake my head, trying to grasp it. I know Mateo and I weren’t as good at sharing as we thought we’d be, and I knew it wasn’t fair to her, but to do that? I would never have done that. I never even told him I didn’t want to share anymore, for fear of where she would end up if I did.
“I’m so sorry, Mia.”
“What the hell did you think was going to happen?” I ask her.
“I just told you.”
“I meant with Vince!”
Her eyes widen. “I didn’t think he was actually abusive! Possessive and jealous, sure, but if you were both away from Mateo, the trigger would be gone. I didn’t think he’d rape you.”
I wince, holding up a hand. “Let’s not use that word.”
“Well, that’s the word Mateo used,” she states. “And I’ve hardly been able to sleep since. I feel like a monster, and I’m so, so sorry. I’ve never done something so desperate in my life. And it didn’t even work; he made me feel even worse when you weren’t here and he still…” She trails off, shaking her head. “If it’s any consolation, what I did is why I extracted myself. I finally accepted that if he made me feel like that, we shouldn’t be together anymore. And I’m so, so, so sorry. I wish I could rewind and just bow out gracefully.”
“Jesus.” I still don’t know exactly what to say, but I can’t get over what a gigantic risk she took. “That was an incredibly stupid thing to do,” I inform her. “If he knew about this, he would be livid. Especially now! He is not happy about this pregnancy, Meg. Not even the tiniest bit.”
“I know,” she says, visibly sagging. “And I feel so terrible about that. I never wanted to hurt him. I mean, I didn’t even want to hurt you; I just wanted you out of the way.” She pauses to grimace. “All of this sounds really bad. I don’t feel this way now; it’s just how I felt when I sold you out. I understand none of this is helping my case. I should stop talking.”
“That’s not really your specialty,” I mutter.
“I’m a horrible, no-good, rotten friend. I should be put in stocks in the center of a public square where passersby can throw tomatoes at my face.”
“You’re a reckless, insane nutjob,” I inform her.
“Agreed,” she says, readily.
Sighing heavily, I fix her with a good glare. She looks so sincere though; I really do think she feels bad. “I have to know you would never do something like this again,” I inform her.
“No, of course not. I’m a crazy bitch, but not over a guy,” she says, rolling her eyes. “Not even that one. Nope. No thanks. That’s why I bowed out. Obviously I would never do anything like that again—I don’t even have the power to. Mateo’s sun rises and sets on you. It has since he first brought you back, and it shows no sign of letting up anytime soon.”
“Well, it didn’t, but I’m worried this baby is going to be a real issue. So, thanks for that.”
“I’m so, so, so sorry. You have no idea how awful I feel about that. I feel like I’m the reason you got—erm, what word do you prefer?”
“I prefer not referring to it at all,” I inform her.
“Well, whatever. I feel like something terrible happened to you and it was my fault. I really hoped you would just fall in love with Vince again and live happily ever after far, far away. I did not hope for this. And I know you’re not big on keeping secrets from Mateo, but I assume it goes without saying, unless you want to repay the favor now and get me out of your way….”
I shake my head. “I’m not going to tell him, don’t worry.”
“I’m so, so sorry about what Vince did. Seriously. If you need to talk about it… I know I got the gold in shitty friendship, but my door is open. Provided Mateo hasn’t realized we all talk in bathrooms when we don’t want him to hear and consequently hidden cameras in them, in which case he’s probably calling Adrian right now to dig me a shallow grave in a nearby forest.”
I roll my eyes. “I’m not going to let him kill you. If I won’t let him kill Vince, I’m surely not going to let him kill you. Goddamn, I’m going to have to start charging for this service. I can’t keep any more people alive! I’m at capacity.”
“Well, if there’s another random shooting at my piano bar, you know why.”
“That’s not funny,” I tell her, semi-glaring. “You may have taken the gold for shittiest friend this year, but it’s not like I’ve never placed.” I flash her my engagement ring, in case she needs a reminder.
“Well, yeah. But there’s accidentally stealing back a man with your weird siren call, and then there’s intentionally telling your sister’s wife’s psychotic ex where he can kidnap her.”
Inappropriate laughter bubbles up and I can’t hold it in. I try, but I can’t, and my eyes get watery from the effort. This is so not funny, but it’s so ridiculous that I can’t stop laughing. “Oh, my god. The things we will do for this man.”
Although reluctantly, Meg cracks a smile. “I know. He’s the worst.”
Chapter Twenty Seven
Mia
I thought we were on pretty good ground when Mateo left the house earlier today, but after he got back from his meeting with Dante he was in a darker mood. Then I had the poor luck of experiencing morning sickness at dinner. When I came back to the table, Mateo’s mood was completely dark.
After dinner, instead of coming upstairs with me, he called Adrian into the study and shut the door.
He does not come to bed early tonight. I text him to ask if he’ll be up soon, and he doesn’t even respond. Since I know he’s home, I know he’s just avoiding me, and that sucks.
Ordinarily I’m the calm to his storm, the release at the end of his long day. Now, with Vince’s baby almost certainly polluting my womb, I am an added stress on the shoulders of the man I love. I don’t know how something I’ve looked forward to for so long could hurt this much, but boy, it sure does.
Being an adult and going through one of Mateo’s storms is also much different. When I was younger and free of responsibilities, I could just curl up in bed and make the world go away when things got bad. The nine-year-old dark haired little girl currently lounging in the chair by our bed with her nose in a book is a pretty clear reminder of why that’s no longer a possibility.
“What are you doing in here?” I ask, gathering my damp hair and settling it over my shoulder. The room was empty when I went in to take a shower. Thankfully I put on my white satin bath robe before I came out.
Bella glances up from her book. “Homework. I have to read a chapter tonight, but then I have to do this exercise about choices. I’m conflicted about a problem like the girl in the book. I have to come up with two or three possible choices, write down the pros and cons to each one, then assess my options and make a choice.”
I could use some help with that myself. “Do you have a real problem, or is this a strictly fictional problem?” I ask instead.
Bella sighs lightly, turning her gaze back to her book. “I dunno.”
That wasn’t convincing. Quirking an eyebrow, I walk over to Mateo’s side of the bed and take a seat so I’m close to her. “Spill.”
“I do have a situation,” she admits, tactfully. “I don’t know if I’d call it a problem. But I’m going to use it for my assignment because it’ll be easiest, and you know, when you break a problem down and actually list the pros and the cons, it does feel like you have a better grasp of it. Do you make lists when you have a problem?”
“Not really.”
“Well, how do you decide what to do?”
My honest answer would generally be, I just let your dad decide. Doesn’t take a pro and con list to realize I need a better answer than that to give her. So I say, “Well, in the past when I’ve made big choices, I would look at all sides. I would guess at the outcome of both options—though I wasn’t always right—and I would think about how it would make other people feel. If one of my choices hurt someone else, but one of them didn’t, I would choose the option that didn’t hurt anyone because that felt like the right choice.”
“But what if it would make you feel really good to make the choice where someone maybe did get hurt? What if that person had been really mean to you, and now you knew something that they didn’t want other people to know and you could get back at them by telling?”
I attempt to stifle a wry smile. “I’ve actually been in precisely that scenario. Only it wouldn’t have made me feel good to hurt the person who hurt me back—that’s sort of petty,” I tell her, wrinkling my nose up. “Is this about that Tommy kid?”
Her little cheeks immediately flush, and dread rolls over me. This is not who I want Isabella’s first crush to be on.
“Never mind,” she tells me, focusing intently on her book. “I have to finish reading this.”
“No, tell me,” I insist, injecting a little more enthusiasm into my tone. “I need details.”
“I’m gonna ask Dad what he would do.”
Openly grimacing, I shake my head. “That’s—No. I wouldn’t do that.”
“He’d do the bad thing, wouldn’t he?” she asks, more knowingly than I’m comfortable with.
Instead of answering, I try to shift her focus. “There’s no one answer to this question,” I tell her, as delicately as I can. “What you do in that scenario varies from person to person, the thing you have to think about is what kind of person you want to be. What I would do, what your dad would do—it doesn’t really matter, because you are your own person. The choices you make and the reasons you make them are all yours, and those things will shape who you become. So, make your list for your assignment. Write down the pros and the cons, write down the possible outcomes, and at the end of the day, decide which choice you feel good about. I would also like more details about this situation so I can give better advice. If your friend is mean to you, maybe he isn’t a very good friend.”
“Isn’t Dad ever mean to you?”
God, she’s killing me here! “Your father and I love each other, so we do our best not to hurt one another. Everyone has a bad day now and then, and sometimes then we aren’t our best selves. But at the end of the day, we treat each other with love and respect. If your friend was having a bad day, then maybe you should just talk about it. If your friend is mean to you, maybe you’re better off making a new friend.”
My response doesn’t seem to satisfy her. Her little lips press together and turn down, but she buries her nose back in her book so she can finish her reading for the night.
I climb off the bed and go back to the bathroom so I can brush my hair, but now Bella has me thinking about the tremors my problems could make. Mateo’s storms never used to touch the kids, but now it will impact everyone. What if the baby is a dealbreaker for Mateo? What if he can’t stomach me having Vince’s baby? He won’t give up easily, I know that, but what if everything goes dark again? When he was drunk he remarked he could force his will, and as much as I didn’t want to think about it… how much longer can I avoid considering the very real potential threat he represents?
My soul feels darker just thinking about considering it, so I give myself another night and shut down those thoughts.
By the time I’m done stressing out in the bathroom, Bella has finished her chapter of her book. I walk her back to her bedroom and tell her to finish her homework so she can get to bed, then instead of going back to my own bedroom alone, I seek out Mateo. I’m ready to shut off my brain, tune out our problems, and lose myself in him. Just thinking about it makes me lighter. We don’t even know for sure this is real, so there’s no point letting it ruin everything. Mateo and I had much more unprotected sex during our week together. Vince probably isn’t the baby’s father. It’ll turn out to be Mateo’s and everything will be fine.
My mind continues down that lovely path as I check rooms for Mateo. Images of my cute little baby soothe me, fill me with anticipation instead of dread. That’s what it’s supposed to be like. That’s what I’m going to focus on.
Then I find him.
Well, them.
They’re not paying any attention so they don’t see me, but I can see their profiles from the doorway where I stand. Mateo and Meg are sitting on a couch together in the red sitting room. My heart sinks, moves uncomfortably through me, and falls into a vat of acid in my gut where it disintegrates. It wouldn’t have been so upsetting a few weeks ago, but right now, especially in the midst of this disaster, it feels awful. Meg leans her head on his shoulder. He murmurs something that I can’t hear. Meg raises a spoonful of vanilla ice cream toward his mouth. He smiles, pulling back. She tries again.
“It’s not midnight,” he tells her.
“You’re such a reverse Gremlin.”
I should leave. I shouldn’t keep standing here, witnessing the bizarre intimacy of this moment. The possessiveness and jealousy I managed to keep at bay when we were sharing surges back to life, reminding me that I have a right to expect certain things now, and this feels outside of that realm.
It also reminds me Mateo probably feels the same way
. Me having someone else’s baby falls far outside the realm of things he expects to have to accept.
Meg leans her head back on his shoulder and stops trying to feed him ice cream, but they keep talking. I can’t hear what they’re saying.
I can feel the dull thud of my heart. It seems to be beating in my gut. My stomach is in knots and I’m torn between wanting to walk in and interrupt and wanting to run away.
I run away.
I don’t really know where I’m going, I just have to put distance between myself and that. He’s been avoiding me all night, he still hasn’t answered my text message, and I catch him cozying up with Meg? Who, by the way, could have stopped Vince from taking me in the first place, but decided to be a super bitch and try to get rid of me?
Awesome. He wouldn’t be letting her rest her fucking head on his shoulder if he knew that. Or maybe he would—at least the baby in her womb is his.
I’m not sure what I’m supposed to feel, but anger and doubt team up with hurt to trample my ass. Angry tears well up in my eyes and adrenaline courses through me. The intensity of this ache surprises me. I wish I hadn’t gone looking for him.
I wind up in the servants’ quarter. My legs brought me here automatically, but that makes sense. Ordinarily when I need to flee Mateo, I call for Adrian. I didn’t bring my phone with me to look for Mateo, so I took the direct route.
I head upstairs. A long time ago Mateo’s dad used to live upstairs, but now it has much better residents. After Adrian and Elise decided to stay at the house, Mateo had the upstairs apartment remodeled for them. Now they have their own space, but Maria’s right downstairs and they’re still technically under Mateo’s roof. It saves Adrian a lot of time and trouble since his work schedule for Mateo is erratic, at best, and Adrian’s a family man now.
It’s also convenient for me when Mateo makes me this mad and I need a break from him. I don’t have to wait for Adrian to come pick me up; he’s right here.
I knock at the door and wait. Once we get to the car I’ll probably lapse into an ocean of emotion, but I’d like to keep my shit together long enough for Adrian to answer the door.
