Chapter 10
10
Giselle
“Y ou look—clean,” Stefan said after he sat down on my bed.
I giggled and handed him the baby. “Thank you. You look very clean yourself.”
He took the baby from me and held him. Stefan was wonderful with the kids. He’d been a natural with Dani right from the start.
“And you seem—” his eyes looked me up and down, “better.”
I bit my bottom lip and nodded. “I’m feeling more like my old self. But I still have my moments.”
And a lot of those moments weren’t great.
Carlo and I were getting along fine. Neither of us had brought up certain things, though. Like the touchy subjects that my therapist told me I was avoiding.
I didn’t share everything with her. I didn’t trust her with that information. All I ever gave her were vague ideas of what I’d been through. And I never used names, of course.
Not that I knew any of the women’s last names at Sergio’s. We didn’t exactly get to know each other that well.
I sometimes thought about Shana, wondering if she ever got out of her room.
Alive.
I refused to let it bother me. Because if I hadn’t buried her—she would have gladly buried me.
And my babies.
There was no way on Earth that I’d allow that to happen.
She made her choices.
And I made mine.
If she’d left well enough alone, she wouldn’t have forced me to retaliate.
We both took our risks that day.
And I won.
My doctor upped my medication a few times until we found a good, happy balance.
Carlo still insisted that she come for a home visit every few days, though.
So she did.
And to tell you the truth, it made me feel better to know someone was looking after me.
The baby was thriving.
And growing like mad.
I swear he grew before my eyes. But what else would you expect from a lumberjack’s kid?
“You had us all pretty fuckin’ scared for a while. I’ve never heard you swear like a sailor before.” Stefan looked at me and then back at the baby. He touched the baby’s hand and Marcello grabbed onto his finger.
“Yeah, well. I guess I could have handled things more gracefully.”
Stefan laughed right the heck out loud. “You could say that, woman. You bit all our heads off—many times. Not one of us wasn’t afraid of you.”
I shrugged and moved closer to him—but he immediately stood. “Why’d you do that? I just showered?” I asked, feeling a little offended that Stefan had moved away.
He rocked the baby and gazed at me. “I was given very specific instructions—not—to touch you. Or kiss you.” Stefan cleared his throat. “Or I’d get my ass thrown down the stairs again.”
Good grief.
These brothers.
At this point, I wasn’t sure they’d see eye to eye ever again.
“Do you remember how crazy protective Nick got after they brought Theo back? And Eve was pregnant?”
Stefan walked around with Marcello. “You weren’t pregnant when he threw me down the stairs. In fact, he was trying to get you and Stassia pregnant at that time.”
The mention of—her—name made my stomach twist over on itself.
She was one of the sticky subjects Carlo and I had yet to unpack.
I knew we’d have to do it, eventually. We couldn’t keep ignoring the many elephants in the room.
Sometimes this huge bedroom was so full of elephants, I couldn’t sleep.
“He was impossible to deal with back then. I don’t know where his head was at. But it was like he wasn’t—Carlo, anymore. You know?”
Stefan shook his head and frowned. “Oh, I know exactly where his head was at. Between two women’s thighs. Trying to knock them up.”
I took a deep breath and said something my therapist told me to say when things got to be too much. “I don’t want to talk about this anymore. Can we change the subject, please?”
Stefan didn’t answer.
All he did was walk over to my side of the bed, carefully hand back my baby, and say, “He’s perfect.” His lips touched mine for a gentle kiss. “And I wish he was mine.”
With that, he moved back, gave me one more long look—and then turned around and left.
And he took all the air in the room with him.