Chapter 30 Luca #3
“She’s going to hate me,” Gigi says, wringing her hands. “She probably thought I was dead or being held hostage or—”
“She’s going to be relieved to see you alive.” I catch her mid-pace, pulling her against my chest. “And then she’s going to be angry that you worried her. And then you two will work it out because that’s what friends do.”
Gigi bites her lip, and it takes everything in me to not kiss it away. “What if she can’t forgive me?” she whispers, burying her face into my shoulder.
“Then we’ll deal with it.” I tilt her face up to look at me. “But I don’t think that’s going to happen. From what you’ve told me about Katie, she loves you too much to let this end your friendship.”
The security call comes at exactly 2:00 p.m. Katie’s car has arrived at the gate.
Gigi’s hand tightens in mine. “I can’t breathe.”
I squeeze her palm. “Yes, you can. In and out. There you go.” I guide her through a few deep breaths. “You’ve survived being shot, Gigi. You can survive seeing your best friend.”
She glares at me, her eyes narrowing, “That’s not comforting.”
I shrug. “It wasn’t meant to be comforting. It was meant to be perspective.”
She laughs despite her nerves, and the doorbell rings.
Flora answers it. I hear her voice in the foyer and can hear Katie’s terse responses. Then footsteps, and Katie Carmichael appears in the doorway.
She’s shorter than I expected, blonde hair pulled back in a ponytail, wearing jeans and a sweatshirt that’s seen better days. Her brown eyes are assessing, taking in the room, me, and finally landing on Gigi.
For a moment, nobody moves.
Then Katie’s face crumples. “Gigi?”
“Katie.” Gigi’s voice breaks.
They crash together in the middle of the room, both crying, both talking over each other, both holding on like they’re afraid the other might disappear.
I step back to give them space. This is their moment, not mine.
“I thought you were dead,” Katie is saying through her sobs. “I thought he killed you. I went to the police, but they said there was nothing they could do without evidence and I—”
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I couldn’t tell you—”
Katie grasps Gigi’s arms and looks her up and down. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? Gigi, tell me the truth.”
“I’m okay. I’m really okay, I promise—”
Katie grips Gigi’s shoulders, her eyes still scanning for injuries. They land on the bandage visible beneath Gigi’s shirt collar and she stiffens.
“What happened?” Katie’s voice goes deadly quiet, and her eyes cut to me with pure murder in them. “What did you do to her?”
“It wasn’t him,” Gigi says quickly, stepping between us. “Katie, please. Let me explain everything. Can we sit down?”
Katie doesn’t take her eyes off me, but she nods. We head into a sitting room, and they settle onto the couch. I move to leave as this conversation doesn’t need me in it, but Gigi catches my hand.
“Stay,” she says. “Please.”
Who am I to deny her anything?
So I stay, sitting in a chair across from them, silent while Gigi tells Katie everything.
The forced marriage, the revenge, the slow development of genuine feelings.
Romano’s attack, the warehouse, the hospital.
She leaves nothing out and doesn’t try to sugarcoat my actions or make me look better than I was.
Katie listens, her face cycling through shock, anger, and disbelief.
“So you’re saying you actually want to be here?” Katie asks skeptically when Gigi finishes. “You’re not being forced to say this with him sitting right there?”
“I want to be here.” Gigi’s voice is firm.
“I love him, Katie. I know that sounds insane. I know you probably think I have Stockholm syndrome or I’ve lost my mind because god knows I thought the same.
” She looks at me, pure love in those brown eyes of hers.
“But I promise you, I’m choosing this. I’m choosing him. ”
Katie looks at me for a long moment, and I meet her gaze steadily, letting her see whatever she needs to see.
“He hurt you,” Katie says finally. “He forced you into marriage, burned down your clinic, and took away everything you’d built.”
“He did.” Gigi acknowledges. “And he’s spent every day since trying to make amends for that. He’s not the man he was when this started, Katie. He’s better. He’s trying to be better.”
“And if he hurts you again?” Katie’s voice is sharp. “What then?”
“He won’t.” But Gigi looks at me again when she says it, and I see the question in her eyes. Will you?
“I won’t,” I say, speaking directly to Katie even though the promise is for Gigi. “I know you have no reason to believe me. I know my word probably means nothing to you. But I love your friend more than anything in this world. I would die before I let harm come to her.”
“You nearly did die protecting her,” Katie admits grudgingly, looking like she’s sucked a lemon.
“And I’d do it again.” Simple truth. “Whatever it takes to keep her safe.”
Katie studies me for another long moment then turns back to Gigi. “You’re really okay? You’re really happy?”
“I’m really happy,” Gigi confirms. She takes her friend’s hand. “Katie, I’m pregnant.”
Katie’s mouth falls open. “You’re—what the fuck? Pregnant? How far along?”
“Eight weeks. The baby’s healthy, and we’re both—” Gigi’s voice catches. “We’re really happy about it.”
I watch Katie’s face cycle through a dozen emotions in as many seconds.
Finally, she lets out a long breath. “Okay. Okay, this is insane, but okay.” She looks at me again.
“If you hurt her or that baby, I will find a way to destroy you,” she promises.
“I don’t care who you are or what kind of power you have. I will end you.”
“Understood,” I say, even though I’m amused. “And fair.”
Katie nods once then turns her full attention back to Gigi, and they fall into the kind of rapid-fire conversation that only best friends can have. Talking over each other, laughing and crying, catching up on months of missed moments.
I excuse myself after a while, giving them privacy. Some things are sacred, and female friendship is one of them.
Three hours later, Katie emerges from the living room. Her eyes are red from crying, but she’s smiling. Gigi is behind her, looking lighter than I’ve seen her since all this began.
At the door, Katie hugs Gigi one more time, fierce and protective. “Call me every day,” she demands. “I mean it. Every single day, or I’m coming back here and staging a rescue mission.”
“Every day,” Gigi promises, laughing.
Katie turns to me, and for a moment I think she’s going to punch me. Instead, she extends her hand. I take it, and her grip is firm and steady.
“Take care of her,” Katie says quietly. “She’s the best person I know, and she deserves the world.”
“I know,” I say. “And I’m going to spend the rest of my life trying to give it to her.”
Katie nods once. It’s not forgiveness, exactly, but acknowledgment. Recognition that Gigi has made her choice and Katie is going to respect it, even if she doesn’t fully understand or agree with it.
After she leaves, Gigi comes to stand beside me, slipping her hand into mine. We watch through the window as Katie’s car disappears down the drive.
“Thank you,” Gigi says softly. “For that. For her.”
“You don’t need to thank me for giving you what should have always been yours.
” I pull her close, my hand finding its now-familiar place on her stomach.
“You and our baby and Katie and anyone else who matters to you—you get to keep all of it. I’m not taking anything else away from you. Not ever again.”
She looks up at me, and the love in her eyes is almost too much to bear. “I know. I believe you.”
Standing there in our home, with our baby growing between us and the promise of a real future finally within reach, I realize something profound.
Marco was right all along.
Real strength doesn’t come from destroying what you hate. It comes from protecting what you love.
And I’m going to spend the rest of my life protecting this—Gigi, our baby, our family.
Not because I have to.
Because I want to.
Because this is what being alive really means.