Bound By Blood Anthology

When we pulled up in the driveway, Luca’s and Romero’s cars were already parked in front of the beautiful white house.

I reached for the door to get out but Matteo grabbed my hand and kissed it. “Come on, babe. Everything will be all right. Nothing’s changed for us.”

But it had. I didn’t even feel my pregnancy yet but it was a lingering presence in my body. It was there, ever-present.

Together we headed into the mansion. Inside, Amo’s and Marcella’s voices rang out. When we reached the living room, we were hit with the full force of our family’s boisterous presence.

Lily was trying to prevent Sara from getting ice cream everywhere. Judging from the chocolate covered face of my two-year-old niece and the brown stains on her dress and the floor, she wasn’t very successful. It was a good thing that Sara’s brown hair was pulled back in a short ponytail so it stayed unaffected by the chocolate mess. The French doors were wide open, letting in the hot August air. Marcella and Amo were already dressed in swimwear, ready to take a dip in either the new pool or the ocean. They too were eating ice cream but at nine and almost six they did it without making a mess.

Luca and Romero stood on the terrace while Aria and Lily kept an eye on the children. Luca noticed us first, followed by Romero. Romero smiled and Luca did something with his mouth that might have counted as a friendly gesture as well.

“Gianna!” Aria exclaimed. She tore herself away from Lily and Sara and rushed over to me, embracing me tightly. “Happy Birthday! I’m so happy that we get to celebrate together!”

“Me too,” I said with a forced smile. Aria pulled back, her brows drawing together briefly before Lily took her place.

“Happy Birthday!” She tried to hug me with one arm while holding Sara away from me but the little girl managed to shove her ice cream in my direction and smear some across my cheek.

“Oh no, Sara,” Lily crooned, giving me an apologetic smile. “Sorry, Gianna. I should have set her down before hugging you.”

My smile became shakier. Even my sister thought I’d have a freak-out because of her kid and wanted to keep it away from me. Nobody would ever consider me motherly or anything close to it. And here I was, pregnant. “Don’t worry,” I pressed out.

Aria threw me another questioning look.

I was usually better at keeping up appearances but the current situation made my walls crumble.

Matteo took my hand again and squeezed. His eyes sent a clear message “Do you want to leave?”

“Hey princess, how is it on the boys’ front?” I asked Marcella, giving her a cheeky smile. I wouldn’t run off from my family with my tail between my legs.

Marcella rolled her eyes in the direction of Luca who’d entered the living room with Romero at his side. “No boys.”

“They are scared of me!” Amo declared. I raised my eyebrows. He was tall for a five-year-old but I had a feeling Luca’s towering frame and his psychotic mafia killer reputation had more to do with the boys staying away.

I relaxed. This was familiar.

Romero gave me another warm smile before he joined Lily who’d set down Sara by now. He embraced her and a secretive look passed between them.

“What?” Aria asked at once. She’d noticed it too.

Lily laughed uncertainly, biting her lip, looking at Romero for some kind of sign. He shrugged. They smiled at each other and then Romero put his hand on Lily’s flat belly.

I froze.

Aria’s eyes grew wide, delight spreading on her beautiful face. “You’re pregnant?”

Lily nodded. “But it’s only six weeks.”

Matteo looked at me and squeezed my hand again but I didn’t react. I was in my fifth week if the pregnancy app was correct. My sister and I were both pregnant but our reactions couldn’t have been more different. Aria rushed toward Lily and hugged her carefully, then Romero. Luca slanted Matteo and me a suspicious look before he too congratulated them. Matteo tugged at my hand. “Come on, Gianna.”

I let him pull me toward my little sister, embraced and congratulated her on autopilot, pretended to be happy. Deep down I was happy for her but having her own joy thrown at me when I felt devastated for the very same reason… I couldn’t bear it.

I excused myself to the restrooms and sat down on the closed lid. For a long time, I only stared down at my feet in my favorite sandals, at my toe with the gold and diamond skull ring that Matteo had gifted me this morning, at the small tattoo on the arch of my foot: a Sanskrit symbol meaning breathe. I’d gotten the inspiration for it during my yoga teacher training. Breathing came naturally from birth to death, but right now my lungs seemed weighted down by lead.