Chapter 1
Emma Caraldi
“Excuse me?” I choke out because it’s all I can think of to say right now.
“You’re pregnant, Emma.” Astute hazel eyes have me in their grip as Andy takes a step closer to me. Without thinking, I back up. When her chin dips down along with her gaze, I realize she’s glancing at where I’ve instinctively clasped my hands over my belly.
“I… No… I…” I flounder.
Oh God, this is a disaster!
“Emma, come on. Admit it,” she presses.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about!” I finally snap. If vague denial doesn’t work, maybe I can bluster my way out of this.
“I’m a doctor, Emma. A pediatric specialist, to be precise. Do you think I haven’t seen the signs before?” Andy’s voice has grown gentle, as if aware that I’m panicking.
Shit, shit, shit!
“What signs?” I’m still clinging to the lies I’ve been trying to weave around me. Lies that I’ve known would catch up with me, eventually. Except I’d hoped I’d have more time to come up with a plan.
What plan, Emma? You’re knocked up, and your husband hates kids.
“Well, aside from the fact that you’re clutching your stomach as if a child is about to step right out of it, I saw how emotional you got around that newborn. And then there are your strange reactions to smells. Certain foods. Your light-headedness. Not to mention alcohol, Emma.” She rolls her eyes at me. “You want me to believe that the daughter of an Irish mobster is a teetotaler?”
I groan and cover my face with both hands. This is it. I’m done…there’s no way out of this.
“Can everyone tell?” My voice is muffled in my palms. Andy’s hand is gentle as she sets it on my shoulder. I stiffen, but she doesn’t move it. The woman’s no pushover – I thought I wasn’t either. Until this… “Is it that obvious?”
“Not really. Aside from the booze thing. That’s just plain freaky in circles like ours.” She’s teasing me, but her eyes are warm when I open mine to look up at her. “Emma, does he know?”
She doesn’t have to tell me who she’s talking about. I shake my head.
“No,” I husk out.
“Don’t you think you should tell him?”
I shake my head more vigorously.
“No!” My tone is sharp now. “No, he can’t find out!”
Andy heaves a breath, setting her free hand on my other shoulder to square up with me.
“Sooner or later, it’s going to become impossible to hide, hon.”
I bite my lip so hard I’m sure I taste the copper tang of blood. I’m still shaking my head…like an idiot. Because she’s right. How am I going to hide this? Pretend I picked up some extra weight and walk around in kaftans? That’ll never fly in the bedroom – or any of the other places he’s going to strip me naked.
“You need to let him know, Emma,” Andy persists, still facing me as if it’ll help drum the words into my head.
“I can’t,” I moan. I don’t want to look at her, but she’s impossible to miss unless I squeeze my eyes shut.
“Why not? Raoul would make the most amazing father.” She tips my chin up and stares at me earnestly. “Seriously, Emma. You should just see him with kids. Dario’s little boy, Dani…he loves that child.”
“But not his own!” I blurt. “He doesn’t want children. Never. He… He…” I trail off.
“He what?” Andy is frowning.
“He said any child of his would be better off dead,” I whisper. His words have been swirling around my head since he said them to me that night. I’d been shocked then. Now, the memory pulls heat to my eyes, and before I know it, they’re spilling over. A tear tumbles onto my cheek, and then another.
