Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 492(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 328(@300wpm)
“Really?”
“Yes. In fact . . .” I tried to laugh, but it sounded a little desperate. “I’m kind of worried about it.”
“Why?”
“Well, because the longer we live together, the better I get to know him, the more sex we have—the closer I feel to him. He’s not the guy I thought he was.”
“No?”
I shook my head. “No. In fact, he’s shown himself to be incredibly kind and understanding through all this fertility stuff. I mean, don’t get me wrong, he can still be a cocky bastard, and he loves to get under my skin, but he’s actually a really good husband.”
Her eyebrows went up. “Any chance you guys might stay together?”
“No,” I said quickly. “There’s been no talk about that.”
“Well, maybe you should talk about it. After all, things have changed since you guys drew up that ridiculous contract. Maybe you can give yourselves some more time.”
“More time would just make it worse,” I said miserably. “If it doesn’t work this next month, I have to walk away.”
“Without even telling him how you feel?” She gaped at me. “Why?”
“Because the last time I opened myself up to someone like that, it ended with my heart shattered into a million pieces. This arrangement with Enzo was supposed to guard against that. He was supposed to be safe.” My tone was sharp.
“But how do you know he isn’t? I think you should be honest with him. Men aren’t mind readers, you know.”
Her choice of words was jarring—it reminded me that I’d promised Enzo I wouldn’t make him guess at what I was thinking or feeling. Was she right? Should I just admit the truth to him?
I thought about the night he’d come up to the bedroom dressed like a vampire, and how once the costume was off I’d pleaded to hear something real. Not a day had gone by that I didn’t hear his voice in my head.
I never stop thinking about you.
No one has ever made me feel the way you do.
Sometimes I can’t even breathe.
I want to give you everything.
But what did that mean? Did he have feelings for me? Did he want me for something more than a temporary wife who’d supply him with offspring? And what if I couldn’t even do that? What then?
Enzo came back inside and headed toward me, and I was conscious of the way every single woman in the place watched him. He knew it too, and even though he kept his eyes on me, something deep in my gut told me he’d never trade that kind of attention—let alone his sexual freedom—just to be with me, especially if he wanted kids. And why should he?
If I couldn’t even give him a baby, what good was I to him?
“So how’s newlywed life?” Pietro’s wife Lynne dropped into the patio chair next to me. The sun was out, the temperature was unusually warm for spring in Michigan, and after an early dinner, we’d moved outside for some fresh air.
“Good. Great.” I tried not to eyeball her pregnant belly with envy, or worse, bitterness.
“Your wedding dress was so cute. Of course, everything is cute on you. You’re so petite.” She ran her hands over her belly and laughed. “I’m a whale.”
“Not at all. You look fantastic. When are you due again?”
“May twenty-fourth. So I still have four weeks left, if you can believe it.” Then she sighed. “But I shouldn’t complain.”
No, you shouldn’t, I thought irritably. What I said was, “It’s okay.”
“Actually, I love being pregnant,” she went on. “I’m not one of those women so concerned about her figure that they worry pregnancy will ruin it.”
I lifted my glass of wine to my lips. Whether she was insinuating I would be one of those women or not, the comment just didn’t sit well with me.
“I just think it’s the greatest gift, you know? Such a miracle. Good job, honey!” She smiled and waved at James, who was out on the lawn playing with his new bat, ball, and tee. Enzo was coaching him, Pietro was fielding balls, and James’s two-year-old sister Lilly was toddling around with a butterfly net. “Enzo has always been so sweet to the kids,” she went on. “He’d make a great dad.”
“Yes, he would.” I watched Enzo take the bat from James and demonstrate one more time how to hit the ball off the tee. When it rocketed past Pietro into the makeshift outfield, Enzo scooped up Lilly, set her on his shoulders, and jogged around the bases. When he reached home plate, James begged for a turn, so Enzo set the little girl down and swept his nephew up onto his shoulders, then ran the bases again. As he went by us, he waved, and I smiled and waved back.
“See what I mean?” Lynne asked, as if I’d disagreed with her. “You guys should totally have kids.”