How times have changed.
I pick it up and put down the lockbox, staring at the photograph. This girl used to bring me so much pain that I wanted to conceal her very existence and pretend she never existed. This photo is proof of that … it’s the only image I kept of her.
I cannot change the past, and I cannot bring her back from the dead.
She is gone, along with the love I once felt, because when I stare at this picture, I feel nothing.
Absolutely nothing.
I sigh.
Maybe it’s for the best.
I bring the picture with me and walk up to the firepit at the edge of the garden where I haven’t sat in ages, and I light a fire with a match, throwing the picture on top without giving it a second thought.
If Harper is truly pregnant with my child, then it’s time to move on.
The past is over. I have a new future now.
And a new family is waiting for me inside that house.
Harper
I only rest for a couple of minutes. My head is swirling with thoughts after that doctor discovered I was pregnant. It was impossible to hide it after he listened to my belly and heard the baby's heartbeat. The sound even gave me goose bumps. I never thought I’d hear the sounds of life coming from my own body.
But it’s real. I am pregnant. And even though I’ve been trying to avoid reality, I cannot stop thinking about it now that it’s out there in the open. Now that Marcello must surely know as well.
I bury my face in my hands and groan to myself. How am I supposed to sleep when he’s out there seething around like a fire-spitting dragon?
At least, that’s how I picture him in my head. I have no clue what he’s doing, and the fact is that I really want to know. Because I care what he thinks. How he feels.
About us.
About this baby of ours.
And the only way to find out is by asking him myself.
I throw the blanket off me and get up.
Fuck rest, fuck sleeping. I can’t close my eyes like this.
I get up and put my clothes on, then make my way downstairs. The guards eye me up and down, and I ask one of them where Marcello is. He points at the garden, so I hop outside to take in some much-needed fresh air. The doctor told me it was okay to take a walk outside as long as I didn’t overdo it. My body needs to be relaxed and have some time away from stress so it can heal itself and the baby remains safe.
Because the thought of losing this little one is already unbearable.
That’s how attached I’ve grown.
And I don’t even know if Marcello actually wants it.
He’s sitting in the corner of the yard, next to a firepit, where smoke rises into the sky. I swallow and approach him from behind.
“I can hear you,” he says.
I pause halfway there. “How did you know it was me?”
“I recognize your footsteps. They’re … delicate.” I can hear him smile, and it makes me blush. He’s intricately aware of every noise I make and remembers it. Like it’s something special.
The scent of burnt paper fills my nostrils as I inch closer and peer over his shoulder.
“What are you burning?”
He pokes the ashes with a stick. “A picture.”
I frown, looking at the image of a beautiful woman being scorched. There’s not much left of her face, but from what I can see, she was gorgeous, and the way he looks at her fills me with sadness.
“She meant a lot to you, didn’t she?”
He sighs. “My fiancée died in the same ambush that put my mother in a coma.”
I place a hand on his shoulder. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be. It was a long time ago, and I’ve moved on.” He covers my hand with his and looks at me over his shoulder with only love and adoration in his eyes. “I have you now.”
My heart skips a beat. Does he really feel that way about me?
But he had a fiancée. I don’t want to and couldn’t possibly replace her.
“Are you sure? I don’t—”
He suddenly places a hand on my belly, catching me off guard. He looks up into my eyes, deepening his gaze. “Is it mine?”
A blush creeps onto my cheeks. “Of course, why wouldn’t it be?”
“If anyone hurt you,” he says, his eyes twitching, a hint of darkness inside them. “I will tear out their entrails and choke them with it.”
My eyes widen, and the blush immediately dissipates. “No, no. No one did that. Well, they tried, but my mother’s guard saved me and took me to her home.”
His eyes only narrow farther, so I add, “I promise, no one touched me.” I snigger. “Well, except you of course.”
He leans over and presses both hands against my belly. “That’s good to hear.” He stands up to face me and gives me a smoldering look. “But you lied to me, Kitten. Why?”