43. SOPHIE
SOPHIE
I wonder if that’s a pregnancy thing? I’ll have to look into that, because I definitely don’t want it to stop. The look on his face every time is priceless.
“Princess, what are you doing?”
I fold a blanket on the floor and drop it on a padded bench by the wall. “Cleaning up.”
“You don’t have to do that.”
I shrug. “Maybe not, but I don’t want to leave you in a big mess that we made.”
He narrows his eyes and leans up on his elbow. “Leave me? You’re not leaving me. Now put that shit down and come back to bed.”
“I’m almost done,” I counter, replacing a lamp that we knocked on the floor and plugging it back in, taking my time so I don’t have to face him.
“Marco and Rocco have been holding the Arsenal down since I’ve been gone, but I need to check on things.
Check the prep work, look at this week’s orders, make sure nobody invented a new menu without telling me. ”
I force a laugh but the weight of his stare is heavy and so is his silence.
“Rocco.” It’s not a question, but the way he spits the name out, Vin’s feelings are not a mystery.
I smooth the duvet and finally look at him. He’s sitting up against the headboard, jaw set.
“Yes,” I say, keeping my voice even. “Rocco. He works for me.”
“You fucked him.”
“A long time ago.” I hold his gaze. “And it has nothing to do with his job. He shows up, gets the dishes done, and he doesn’t cause trouble. That’s all that matters to me.”
“That’s not all that matters to me.”
“Vin.” I sit on the edge of the bed, press my hand flat on his chest. “Just because I am having our baby does not mean that we are together.”
He opens his mouth.
“Let me finish.”
He closes it and scowls.
“We are not together. That hasn’t changed. I care about you. I am going to have your child and I take that seriously. I want it more than I want to admit. But that is not the same thing as you and me being in a relationship, and I need you to understand the difference.”
“I told you.” He’s barely controlled as he gets out of bed. “I told you if you have my baby, you’re not getting rid of me. Ever. You are mine, Sophia.”
“I am the mother of your child.” I hold his gaze as I stand and pick up the bag I brought with me to the funeral. He follows me. “But I am not yours, Vin. And this…” I gesture between us, “…this right here. This is why.”
“FUCK.” He turns and slams his fist into the drywall.
“Vin!” His back is streaked with dried blood where his stitches opened, and I stop him, my hand light on his arm. Immediately, he relaxes, his shoulders visibly softening. He’s still angry, but at least he’s listening. “Your stitches. We need to get Dr. Rossi to clean them up.”
He nods and looks at my hand on his arm. “Sophie, I can’t do this.”
“You can’t be upset about this,” I correct him. “This is my life. My restaurant is my priority. That’s not going to change for any reason. Not because of this baby. Not because of us. I need you to respect that and let me go.”
He holds my gaze for a long moment, his jaw tightening. Then he picks up his phone.
“What are you doing?”
“Letting the guards know you’ll need their supervision while I’m getting stitched up.” Everything about him is flat, efficient. Business-like.
I stare at him. “Vin.”
“It’s not negotiable.” He slides the phone into his pocket, and twists to check out the damage to his stitches in the mirror over the dresser like the conversation is over.
“This, Vin.” I slap his arm, frustrated.
“This right here is why I can’t be with you.
What we do in the bedroom is one thing. But you cannot treat me like you own me out in the world.
I have responsibilities. I am independent, and I have been my entire life.
Long before you, long before any of this.
If you can’t respect that, then you don’t respect me, and if you don’t respect me, then you don’t actually love me.
You just want to possess me. And I want nothing—nothing, Vin—that isn’t 100 percent mutual. ”
I let the silence fall heavy between us as Vin and I stare at each other for what feels like a very long time.
Then he nods once and pulls his phone out again, typing without speaking. I wait, my coat half on, not sure what’s coming.
“I’ve arranged a plane and a car to take you to the Arsenal.” He doesn’t look up from the screen. “The car will be waiting outside the restaurant when the restaurant closes to bring you back here tonight.”
“Vin, that’s not what I said.”
“That’s the compromise.” His eyes are very dark, and he crosses his arms over his chest. “You want your restaurant, you’ve got it.
You want your independence, you have that too.
But if you think I’m letting you walk out of here in the middle of a war with my baby inside you and zero protection, you don’t fucking know me at all. ”
I throw my hands up. I don’t know how to say this any differently.
“I’m not making you stay, Sophie. I’m asking you to come back. There’s a difference.”
Frig. There is a difference.
I glance at the hole in the wall and back at him. I only found out about the pregnancy yesterday morning when I read Dr. Rossi’s email with the blood test results. Right before I told Vin. He’s actually handling all this pretty well, considering.
Honestly, he’s doing better than I am. I haven’t even had a chance to…think. Placing my hand over my stomach, I pull in a breath slowly.
“Fine,” I say.
He exhales hard and sits on the edge of the bed, his knees wide, and rests his elbows on his thighs watching me walk out the door.