Total pages in book: 97
Estimated words: 95256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95256 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 476(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
“Are you sure that’s the only reason he’s doing it?”
“No. I bet he’s also doing it because he wants to have sex again and we wouldn’t have to use a condom. I know how his mind works.”
She laughed sympathetically. “But what if he’s changing his ways? Maybe impending fatherhood has him rethinking his priorities.”
“We’ve been over this, Winnie. Guys like Gianni don’t change.”
Winnie sighed. “You know, it’s too bad. You guys could be good together, if only—”
I shook my head. “Don’t. That’s the trap, Win. The if only. I get caught in it every night when I’m trying to fall asleep, because part of my stupid, stubborn heart wants that happily ever after.” I grabbed a cocktail napkin for my eyes, helpless against the torrent of tears and the tide of feelings that kept rising in me. “But we can’t always have what we want.”
My parents arrived home later that night, and the moment I saw them walk into Etoile’s kitchen, I ran at them at full speed. I’m sure everyone in there thought I was nuts, but I threw myself into my mother’s arms, and then my dad’s.
My dad held me tight and rubbed my back and told me not to worry about anything, especially work. In fact, he offered to take over for me that night, but I assured him I could handle it and promised to come up and talk to them as soon as I could. I saw Gianni glance over his shoulder, his expression suitably anxious, but my parents left without saying anything to him. Later, when the dining room was empty and the servers were finishing up their side work, I found him in the office, sitting at the desk but staring into space. My heart beat faster at the sight of his handsome profile.
“Gianni?”
He looked over at me and stood up quickly. “Hey.”
“Hey.” I joined my hands at my waist, locking my fingers together. “I’m going to talk to my parents. Do you want to come?”
He went pale. “Do you want me to?”
“It’s up to you. Since we faced your parents together, I wasn’t sure if you wanted to face mine that way too.”
His Adam’s apple bobbed. “Do they know yet?”
“Yes. I told my mom on the phone last night.”
He exhaled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I wondered if that’s why they came back.”
“I don’t think they’re back to stay forever—not right now, anyway. They’re just here to make sure I’m okay.”
“Do they hate me?”
“No. Don’t be ridiculous.” I paused. “Have you talked to your dad today?”
“No.”
He looked so sad, I felt sorry for him. “Well, you don’t have to come with me to talk to Mia and Lucas. I just didn’t want to shut you out if you wanted to be there. It’s . . . it’s your baby too.”
“Thanks. But I think I’ll just—” He stopped mid-sentence, like he was reconsidering. “Actually, you know what? I will come with you.”
I blinked. “You will?”
“Yes. Like you said, it’s my baby too.” He sounded much more sure of himself and even stood taller. “I want to be there. If your dad wants to throw a punch at me, I’ll take it.”
That made me laugh. “My dad is not going to punch you, Gianni. I can’t imagine my dad punching anyone. Now your dad, on the other hand . . .”
Gianni grinned, and I realized how long it had been since I’d seen him do it. It warmed me all the way through.
We found my parents seated on the couch in the family room in the private part of the house. My mother was sipping a cup of tea, and my dad had a glass of something that looked like scotch. They stood up when they saw us enter the room together.
“Gianni,” my mother said in surprise, coming forward to give him a hug. “I just got off the phone with your mom.”
“Aunt Mia. Uncle Lucas.” Gianni faced my dad, who held out his hand. There was visible relief on Gianni’s face as he shook it.
“Can I get you anything?” my dad asked. “Beer? Glass of wine? Whiskey?”
Gianni shook his head. “I’m good, thanks.”
“Ellie, darling, would you like tea?” my mom asked.
“No, thanks. I’m sure you guys are tired and want to go to bed.” I sat down in one of two chairs opposite the couch, and Gianni sat in the other. He looked even more uncomfortable than he did when we told his parents, and I didn’t blame him, although my parents were handling this entire situation with a surprising amount of calm and grace—especially my mom.
“We’re fine, honey.” My mom sat down again, tucking her feet underneath her.
My dad sat next to her and covered her lap with a soft pink throw blanket. “How are you feeling, Ell?”
“I’m okay.” I glanced at Gianni, who was nervously rubbing his hands on the tops of his legs. “I’m definitely tired, but we wanted to—”