Matteo shrugged. “I always thought we didn’t need kids to be happy. But I like being around Luca’s kids, so being around my own might be even better.”
I scrunched up my face and shook my head. “It won’t. With other people’s kids you only get to do the fun things, and when it gets tough you can give them back, but this baby, it’ll be our responsibility… I never wanted that. I still don’t.” I cringed at how horrible that made me sound, but it was the truth.
Voicing it aloud, I felt guilty but I needed to say it. Matteo needed to know. He was the one person who would understand. Right?
Matteo came toward me and crouched before me, looking up at me. He took the test and laid it to the ground, then he touched my cheek. “It’s still early in the pregnancy,” he murmured. I knew what he was saying without saying it. His brown eyes were so full of understanding and love that my heart clenched tightly with gratefulness. In the beginning, I’d thought Matteo didn’t deserve me because he was a bad man but now, I often felt like I was the one who didn’t deserve him.
I swallowed. “Will you be okay with it?”
Matteo smiled wryly. “Gianna, I’m a killer.” Despite his attempt to sound flippant, I caught a hint of strain in his voice.
I tensed. “So you think we’re killing the baby?”
He frowned. With a groan he pushed to his feet and pulled me with him, wrapping his arms tightly around me. “That’s not what I meant,” he said firmly. “What I meant is that I can deal with anything. I’ll be at your side no matter what you decide.”
“It’s not only my decision. This is your child too.”
Something flickered in Matteo’s eyes. “It is. But it is your body. You’ll have to carry a child for nine months, you’ll have to go through labor, and you’ll be the one the baby will need the most in the beginning, so really it should be your choice.”
I was grateful for Matteo’s support, but for once I wished he would tell me what to do, would take the decision off my hands, so I wouldn’t be burdened with the full weight of my responsibility. “Everyone will hate me if I… if I end this pregnancy. Or hate me more.” Because my fan club was fairly small while my haters were in the majority among the Outfit and the Famiglia. I knew it and usually I didn’t care. Trying to please everyone was a losing game and I’d never tried but now, now I was terrified of their judgment.
Matteo regarded me closely. “Our family will understand.”
“Will they?” I asked. Luca and Aria loved their children. They would never get rid of a baby, nor would Lily and Romero. Our world was a traditional one. Not that there wasn’t abortion. If a child was created out of wedlock, abortion was fairly common. But Matteo and I were married, and he still needed an heir in the eyes of his fellow Made Men.
“It’s none of their business anyway. We don’t have to tell them,” he said. “We never cared about other people’s opinions. We shouldn’t start now. Fuck them all.”
I nodded. That was probably for the best. But I knew I’d be devastated if Aria and Lily condemned me for my choice. Other people’s judgment I could deal with but my sisters… “I don’t want to be a mother.”
“Okay,” Matteo said quietly. His brown eyes brimmed with understanding but I couldn’t help but wonder if he hid part of his feelings from me.
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to hate me for it.”
“Gianna,” Matteo said roughly, cupping my cheeks. “I could never hate you, and this is our choice. I won’t blame you.”
I took a deep breath. “Will you accompany me to the appointment?”
Matteo kissed me gently. “Of course, Gianna. I’ll be there for you.”
I closed my eyes and leaned my head against his chest. I waited for relief to set in now that we’d come to a decision but the uncertainty, the fear, the doubts remained. Maybe it would take time to come to terms with everything. “How are we going to celebrate my birthday as if nothing’s wrong? How do we hide the truth from everyone?”
“We just forget about it. Try to enjoy a few summer days, all right?”
I nodded, but I wasn’t sure if I’d manage to do it.
I kept twisting my wedding ring around my finger, staring out of the windshield as we headed toward the Hamptons. Matteo was oddly quiet and I hadn’t said anything either. My thoughts kept whirring, and with every passing moment my worry over being around my sisters and their husbands, and worse, their children, rose. I didn’t feel like celebrating my birthday. I wanted to hole up in our penthouse and wait for everything to be over—as if that would magically make things easier. My thoughts kept revolving around my decision and the looming appointment.