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)
“She said that she had to leave me before I left her.”
Griffin tilted his head. “Why does she think you’d leave her?”
“I got the feeling it was because of the baby thing,” I said, my chest aching again. “She doesn’t think she can get pregnant, and maybe she’s afraid I’d leave her because of it.”
“Bingo.” Blair pointed at me. “And Enzo, as much as I want you two to end up together, I think you have to ask yourself that question. If you want your own biological kids and Bianca can’t get pregnant, that’s an issue.”
I walked away from them and over to the living room windows, which looked out over Main Street. It wasn’t as busy as it would be in a month, once school was out and tourism really picked up, but there were a decent amount of people wandering up and down the block, parents pushing strollers or holding the hands of toddlers, kids racing around with ice cream cones.
Blair came up beside me and looked out too.
“I do want kids,” I said, watching a father lift a little girl onto his shoulders. “But I want them with her, no matter what. Nothing feels right without her.”
“I think she needs to hear that,” she said gently.
“But what if she rejects me again?”
She laughed. “Do it right this time, and she won’t.”
I frowned.
“The good thing is, you’re already married to her.” She elbowed me.
“No, I’m not,” I scoffed. “That wedding was bullshit. Everything was bullshit.”
“I was there.”
“Then you know.” I tipped up my beer again. “It’s not what she deserved. None of it was.”
“Then do it all again, and give her what she deserves this time,” Blair urged. “Change all the things you messed up. Say all the things you should have said. Make it real this time.”
I looked down at her. “That’s actually a really great idea.”
She smiled and curtsied. “Thank you.” Then suddenly her face turned menacing—or as menacing as a Tennessee debutante’s face can get. “But if you hurt her again, Enzo Moretti, I will hunt you down and destroy you.”
“I’m not going to hurt her,” I promised, my mind already clicking. “I’m just going to get her back. But I might need help. Yours and Cheyenne’s.”
“Whatever you need, we’re there.” Sweet as apple pie again, she stuck her arm through mine and tipped her head onto my shoulder. “But mostly, we just want to tell her we were right.”
The next morning, I went to my parents’ house to see my father.
My mother answered the door. One of her brows peaked and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Well? Did you do what I said?”
“Not yet.”
She harrumphed.
“I need to talk to Dad, okay? I can’t do anything until I clear my conscience about lying to him.”
She harrumphed again, but she let me in. “He’s in his office. I don’t know why he calls it retirement since he still gets up early, takes his coffee into his office, and stays at his desk for hours.”
I had a pretty good idea why he liked being alone in his office every morning, but I didn’t say anything to my mom. “Thanks.”
I knocked twice on my dad’s office door, then opened it up. “It’s me. Can I come in?”
Seated behind his desk with his laptop open in front of him, he picked up a mug that said MY NONNO CAN BEAT UP YOUR NONNO. “Sure.”
I shut the door behind me and sat in one of the two leather chairs across from him. “How are you feeling?”
“Good.” He sipped his coffee and eyeballed me over the rim of the cup.
Nervous, I ran a hand over my hair. “So I need to tell you something.”
“Okay.”
“I fucked up.”
Another slow sip. A slight squint of the eyes.
“I did something I’m not proud of, and I need to come clean about it to you before I can fix things with Bianca—this involves her too.”
“I’m listening.”
“I only married her so you wouldn’t give the company to Pietro.” I closed my eyes a moment. “I know it was wrong, and I’m sorry.”
He said nothing.
I opened my eyes again and met his gaze squarely. “It was dishonest and shady, and that’s not the kind of man I am. It’s not the kind of man you raised.”
“No, it isn’t.”
“If you want to turn Moretti & Sons over to Pietro, I’ll understand. And I’ll help him run it.”
He took one more sip and set his coffee down. “I was never going to give the company to Pietro.”
“Huh?”
“Your brother is good at a lot of things. Being CEO would not be one of them.”
“So . . . so I didn’t need to get married and start a family in order to prove that I was responsible enough to run the company?” I sputtered.
“No. You needed to get married and start a family because that’s what you want out of life. And you were never going to do it if you didn’t sense some kind of pressure to get it done.” He shrugged. “That’s the way it always is with Moretti men. We like our independence too much. We’re selfish and stubborn. We need a shove in the right direction.”