19. Gianna
— ? —
Gianna
The phone sat face-down on the kitchen counter where I’d dropped it like it was burning.
Orion had seen the name in the truck. I’d felt him go still beside me, felt the question he didn’t ask hanging in the air between us. But he hadn’t said a word.
The loss of his hand around mine felt like a small death. I hated that I noticed. He was in the bedroom now, changing Alex, giving me space to decide for myself.
The phone rang again. That persistent buzz against the laminate, demanding attention.
I stared at it.
You don’t have to answer, I told myself. You don’t owe her anything.
But something in me needed to hear what she had to say. Needed to know what angle she was working now, what story she’d constructed where she was the victim and I was the unreasonable one.
I picked up.
“Gianna.” Her voice was warm and concerned. The voice she used when she wanted something. “I’m so glad you answered. I’ve been worried about you.”
“Have you.”
“Of course I have. You’re my sister.” A pause, perfectly timed. “I know things have been… difficult. Between us. But I’ve been doing a lot of processing. A lot of thinking about what went wrong.”
I said nothing. Let the silence stretch.
“I’ve been talking to Mama,” Demi continued, and I heard the first hint of her real agenda sliding into place. “She thinks the family needs to heal. Before Alex gets any older. Before he grows up not knowing his aunt.”
His aunt. Like she had any right to that title.
“The thing is,” Demi said, her voice going softer, more intimate, “there’s a cattle buyer I’ve been seeing. He asked me to the gala next month. The cattle auction gala.” Another pause. “I’d hate for it to be awkward.”
There it was. The real reason for the call.
She wasn’t asking for forgiveness. She was asking for access. The gala was the social event of the ranching world, and she’d found herself a plus-one who could get her through the door. But she knew, she had to know, that Maddie would have her removed the second she set foot inside.
Unless I gave my blessing. Unless I played the role of the forgiving sister, the bigger person, the woman who let bygones be bygones for the sake of family harmony.
“Daisy called you from the hospital,” I said. My voice came out calm. I didn’t recognize it as my own. “Before they cut me open. You said you’d get him.”
Silence on the line.
Then, quieter, “I didn’t think it was real. You always-”
“Don’t come to the gala.”
I hung up.
My whole body was shaking. I set the phone down on the counter and pressed my palms flat against the surface, trying to ground myself in something solid.
Orion appeared in the doorway. Alex was cradled against his chest, freshly changed, making those soft cooing sounds that meant he was content.
The sight of my husband holding our son like it was the most natural thing in the world, like he’d been doing it his whole life instead of learning it desperately over the past few months, made something ache behind my ribs.
He didn’t cross to me.
“Do you want me to call Maddie?” he asked quietly. “About the guest list?”
“No.” I straightened up and took a breath. “I’ll do it.”
I picked up my phone and found Maddie’s number. She answered on the first ring, like she’d been expecting the call.
“Gianna. What do you need?”
“Demi’s been seeing a cattle buyer. She’s planning to come to the gala as his plus-one.”
A pause. Then, simply, “Done.”
She didn’t ask why or ask what had happened.
“Thank you,” I said.
“You’re family. That woman is not.” Maddie’s voice was crisp and certain. “Is there anything else?”
“No. That’s all.”
“Then I’ll see you at the gala. Wear something stunning. I have a feeling you’ll want to.”
She hung up.
I stood there for a moment, processing what had just happened. I’d used the Barnes family’s power. Not Orion’s power that I’d borrowed or benefited from passively. Mine. Because I was family now, and Maddie had made it clear that meant something.
Twenty minutes later, my phone rang again.
Mama.
I answered because not answering would only delay the inevitable.
“Your sister says you hung up on her.” Mama’s voice was tight with that particular kind of disappointment she reserved for when her daughters weren’t getting along. “Gianna, I know things have been hard, but she’s trying to make amends. The least you could do is-”
“She let me go into surgery alone, Mama.”
Silence.
“Ask her about that,” I continued. “Ask her about the phone call from Daisy. Ask her what she did instead.”
“Gianna-”
“I love you, Mama. But I’m not doing this tonight.”
I ended the call.
Orion was still standing in the doorway. He hadn’t moved or tried to intervene.
I crossed the room without thinking about it. Put my forehead against his chest, careful not to squish Alex between us. Felt the solid warmth of him, the steady beat of his heart.
He smelled like laundry detergent and baby powder and underneath it, something that was just him. I’d forgotten how much I’d missed that smell.
“Don’t say anything,” I whispered.
He didn’t.
He just stood there and let me lean against him, one hand coming up to rest on the back of my head, holding me gently while I shook.
His lips brushed the top of my hair. So light I might have imagined it. But I didn’t imagine the way my whole body went warm, or the way I pressed closer instead of pulling away.