Chapter 21 Rome #2
“I’m so proud of you for sticking to your dreams and making them happen. Makes me happy knowing I didn’t derail your plans after all.”
She winces, her beautiful mouth twitching as she looks up. Her cat eye-lined eyes narrow slightly. “I mean, you kind of have.”
“By marrying me, yes.” I playfully roll my eyes. “But I told you that marrying me wouldn’t change that. You deserve everything you’ve ever wanted, Lark. I’ll be there to support you no matter what.”
“No matter what?”
“Yes.” I laugh, but there isn’t much humor behind it. I’m still nervous as fuck. “Why do I have a feeling this isn’t what you wanted to talk to me about?”
“Because it isn’t,” she whispers, her voice turning somber. “But you deserve to know what I’m about to tell you before agreeing to marry me.”
My heart is beating so hard, I’m convinced it drops into my stomach. I feel sick, already dreading what she’s going to say without even knowing whether it’s good or bad.
“Deserve to know what?”
She grabs my hands and holds them between us, staring at them and squeezing my fingers, wringing them tighter until our knuckles turn white. Then she’s looking up at me as a shaky breath passes her full red lips.
Her glassy, tear-lined eyes meet mine. “I’m pregnant, Rome.”
The room somehow spins while Julianna and I remain still.
It takes precisely ten full breaths before I’m able to speak. “You’re pregnant?”
My voice sounds faraway, as if it’s no longer in the room with me.
“Yes.” She quivers. “I took a test yesterday, and it came up positive. I wanted to be sure before telling you because I know those things can be wrong, and when I called my OB right after taking it, they were able to fit me in last minute. She confirmed it.”
I nod robotically, digesting her words. It takes a few beats before I’m able to focus again.
“But I thought you were on birth control.”
“I am.” She clears her throat. “I mean, I was, but the doctor said it doesn’t always work. Everyone is different. I’ve been on the pill for two years and have never missed a day of taking it, but she said it doesn’t matter. There’s still always a chance.”
“Um.” I lift one of my hands to massage my forehead. “How far along are you?”
Twisting her fingers, she tucks her bottom lip under her teeth before looking up at me with hooded eyes. “A little over three months.”
“Wow.” I exhale, planting my hands on my hips. “So, it could be from our first time?”
She lifts a shoulder. “Maybe.”
I nod, still processing her news. It isn’t that I don’t want children with Julianna—fuck, I want as many babies as she’ll give me—but I never expected it to be this soon.
Julianna and I have moved fast with our love, and I guess if I truly think about it, this tracks.
But I figured we’d be slightly older than eighteen when it happened.
I thought we’d have some years together before taking that step.
Our goal in marrying wasn’t to have children. It was to spend our lives together, ending our families’ generations-long vendetta.
How is that going to look now with a Capuleti-Montgomery baby existing in the world?
“Rome.” Julianna’s voice pulls me back to reality. She cups my cheek, holding my gaze to hers. There are tears in her eyes. One slips, sliding down to her chin.
I sweep it up with my fingertip before it falls.
“Look at me, Rome,” she pleads. “Please look at me.”
I do as she says, bringing my gaze back to hers.
“I’m telling you this because we have options.”
“Options?”
“Yes.” Her hand trembles as she lowers it back to rest on her stomach. “I’ve considered them all and—”
“Lark, I—”
“If this isn’t what you want, I understand,” she cuts me off. “You’re eighteen and you still haven’t been able to fully get out from under your dad’s clutches. There are probably a million things you still want to do that don’t involve me or a baby. But I…”
I realize what she’s saying. Her expression says it all.
“I want this, Lark.”
“You do?” Her brows knit.
“Of course, I do.” I wrap my hand around her cheek, threading my fingers through her wavy hair. “This baby is ours. Both Capuleti and Montgomery.”
“It is.” She sobs, releasing all the tension she’s been carrying, setting it free, her eyes welling with fresh tears.
“Don’t cry, Lark. Please don’t cry,” I tell her. “We’re in this together. We always will be, and I’ll be there by your side every step of the way, whether you want to keep the baby or not.”
She grips my arm, massaging it as she comes to terms with what I’m saying.
“I want to keep it.” She stares directly into my eyes. “I didn’t know how much I wanted it until I had it.”
I chuckle, pulling her closer until her forehead meets mine. We both sigh with relief, listening to nothing but the sounds of our breathing and the birds tweeting through the open window.
“Does this mean you’re still willing to marry me?” There’s a hint of teasing to her voice that makes me feel as light as I did before I walked in here.
I pull back so I can look into her pretty eyes.
Fuck, I can’t believe we’re going to be parents in about six months.
I don’t allow myself to think on the details, though, or how this will work between our families.
How I’ll do everything in my power to make sure our baby doesn’t fall into the clutches of my father’s terror.
It’s one thing to tell our parents we’re married. It’s another to tell them we’re married and expecting a baby. But when I look into Julianna’s stunning blue eyes, I know I’ve never felt more at peace or at home than I do with her.
“Fuck yes, I’m still marrying you. We’re in this until we’re both nothing but flesh and bone rotting in the ground,” I tell her, gripping the back of her head.
“We’re getting cremated, but that’s for another day.” She squeezes her eyes shut and shakes her head. “Wow, this conversation turned morbid. Moving on.”
We both laugh, and my heart starts making its way back up to its rightful place in my chest. I run my thumb across the outer edge of her eye, still stunned she’s going to be my wife in less than ten minutes.
“You’re the love of my life, Lark.”
“You’re the love of mine,” she says, revealing a bright smile.
“Then, come on.” I place a kiss on her pretty mouth before nodding toward the doorway.
She sweeps up her bouquet of red roses sitting on the bed before slipping her hand into mine. She threads our fingers and looks up at me with a starry-eyed gaze. “Let’s go make me a Montgomery.”
My eyes drops to her stomach, and I don’t think I’ve ever been this hopeful of my own future. “You’re both already Montgomerys, but I guess it’s time we make this official.”