Pregnancy Of Passion

‘Wh-what d-do you c-care?” she choked out between deep, gasping sobs.

It hurt so much .

She felt used.

She felt betrayed.

And she felt scared.

Because she was sure she was pregnant with the baby of a man who could think so little of her that he could plan to seduce her while courting her sister for marriage.

‘I care. Please cara open the door.”

The unaccustomed pleading had no effect on her. She was in too much emotional pain.

‘Go awayl” ‘

1 cannot do that.”

‘Then I w-will.” She pushed herself away from the door and trudged across the floor to the en suite.

Her body shook with crying, her stomach hurt and she couldn’t breathe through her nose much less see a clear path through her tears. Disoriented she bumped into the doorjamb on her way into the bathroom. Stumbling back, she cried harder.

She finally made it into the bathroom and shut that door as well. She also locked it. The extra layer of wood between them muffled Salvatore’s voice, but it did not obliterate it. She turned on the shower, climbed in the stall fully clothed and sat on the floor, letting the hot water cover her while she cried out her grief.

She hadn’t cried after the baby died. She’d had no one to share her grief and somehow that had made it impossible for her to express it but now the tears came. She let the pain of its loss wash over her right along with the agony of this fresh betrayal by Salvatore.

He was a cold-headed snake. How could she have forgotten that fact? He didn’t want her. He wanted Annemarie. The shy kitten. Perfect wife material for a traditional SiciIian male .

The physical ache inside her grew until she turned onto her side on the floor of the shower stall curled up like an infant. She tried to hold it in, this pain that splintered through her, shredding her heart, her very soul but it would not be contained.

Once released she could not contain her grief. It was all mixed up inside her tonight’s revelations and her miscarriage. Feelings she had been denying for a year washed over her drowning her in their sorrow. Tears poured out of her while her muscles cramped in physical response to her mental agony.

‘Banto cielol” Strong hands curved around her shoulders pulling her toward a big male body.

‘Elisa, do not do this to yourself.”

‘I hate you, Salvatore. You hurt me.” She said more muddled things, few of which even she understood. Most of which had nothing to do with her father’s revelations.

He didn’t respond with words, but picked her up, taking her from the shower, and turned off the water. She tried to fight him, but her grief drained her and she ended up lying against him like a soggy, acquiescent child.

He stripped her and dried her off, all the while remonstrating with her for getting into such a state.

She ignored him, crying silently, but still crying.

He groaned when he touched her face and brushed away tears only to watch as her cheeks became drenched again. ‘cara please cfo/cezza you will make yourself sick.”

She shook her head trying to shut out his presence.

He wrapped a fluffy bath sheet around her and then set her on the closed toilet seat. ‘

What can I say to make it better?”

‘Nothing. I want to go to bed. To sleep. Alone.” She glared at him with wet eyes. ‘Without you,” she said for emphasis in case he didn’t get it.

He sighed and pulled off his wet clothes. He toweled his hair and she realized he’d gotten pretty soaked taking her from the shower.

‘I cannot leave you like this.”