31
Natalia
“Oh, honey,” Paulina Messina says, dabbing at the tears in my eyes with a tissue. “Don’t cry, Natalia. It’s all going to be okay.”
I stand in front of the mirror in my bedroom, staring at my reflection, knowing it’s not.
“You are the most beautiful bride,” she adds, sharing a concerned glance with Frankie. “It will be fine, you’ll see.” She pats my arm as I stare desolately at the vision in white in the mirror.
Gino is not who I want.
And I’m not everything he’s expecting.
I don’t know how he will react when he finds out.
Frankie subtly stares at me, cautioning me to get it together.
“I’m sorry,” I croak, forcing a smile for Leo’s mother. “I’m missing Mama and Mateo. They should be here.” That’s not a lie. I do wish they were here, but it’s not the reason I’m crying.
“They should.” Sadness is etched upon her face. “I’m going to leave you girls to talk. I’ll go and check on things downstairs.”
We’re having the wedding reception at our house after the church ceremony. Papa hired a wedding planner, and she organized a large marquee in the garden. Beatrice, our housekeeper, hired additional cooks and waiting staff, and they are catering the wedding feast. All Italian fare, of course.
Paulina moves to leave before stopping for a second. She turns to face me, looking a little uncertain. She gently cups my face. “You are like a daughter to me, Natalia, and your happiness is important. I hate that you didn’t get to marry for love.” Her eyes well up, and I wonder if she knows. My mama guessed. It’s not inconceivable to think Leo’s mama did too. “But Gino is a good man. An honorable man, and I believe he will care for you and protect you.”
“I know,” I whisper, fighting more tears. Out of everyone Papa could’ve chosen for me to marry, Don Accardi is the best choice.
“I’m so proud of you.” She presses a kiss to my brow. “And I know Mama Rosa would be too.”
She slips quietly out of the room, and I kick my shoes off, sit down on the bed, and knot my hands as I attempt to regain my composure.
“Oh, Nat.” Frankie slides her arms around me. “I hate this for you.” Tears stream down her face. “It’s so wrong. You shouldn’t have to do this.”
Sobs rip from my chest before I can stop them. I cling to my bestie, and I need to tell her. I have to tell someone. “Frankie,” I cry, lifting my head. The pain tightening my chest is agonizing. “I have fucked up. I have fucked up so bad,” I whisper.
Her eyes widen in alarm. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”
My lip wobbles, and I sniffle. “I’m pregnant,” I whisper.
She stares at me in shock. I didn’t tell her about the night I spent with Leo. I wanted to. She’s my bestie, and I know she’d have been happy for me, but I won’t put Leo at risk. I couldn’t tell anyone. It needed to remain a secret between us.
Until my period never arrived, and I fretted for ten days, blaming it on stress, before I grew a pair and took a test a week ago, which sealed my fate. I had to be super discreet at the pharmacy to ensure Ciro didn’t see what I was buying, and I only pulled it off with the help of the nice lady behind the counter.
Her mouth opens and closes as she struggles to form words.
“Leo,” I whisper, terrified in case anyone might be outside listening. “I went to him. I asked for one night, and it was the most amazing night of my life.” I burst into more tears. “Until now.” I place a hand over my flat stomach. “I even feel bad saying that because this baby has never been more wanted, but he will kill us!” Hysteria filters into my voice. “Gino will murder me and my baby and Leo when he finds out.”
Frankie shakes herself out of her stupor. “Back up a second. How the hell did this happen? Did he not use protection?”
“He did. We used condoms both times. But no form of contraception is one hundred percent effective. I looked it up. Condoms are ninety-eight percent effective if used perfectly but on average only eighty-five percent effective because most people don’t use them properly. There must have been a tear or my nail snagged it when I was rolling it on. Or maybe he stayed inside me too long after and some semen escaped when he was pulling out.” I should have made him come on my stomach, especially when I’m not on the pill. It’s not permitted until I’m married and I discuss contraception with my husband.
Something that is a moot point now.
“Does he know?” she asks.
I shake my head. “How can I tell him? He would want to run away, and I can’t put a target on his head like that.”
“I still think you should tell him. Maybe there is something he or Ben can do.” Invisible wheels spin behind her eyes. “If Gino knows you’re pregnant, he’ll back out. He won’t want to marry you.”
