15. Luca
Chapter fifteen
Luca
Monday, July 13, 2026
I ’m exhausted, and this time, it isn’t because of Gia’s late-night cries. Ever since I moved her bassinet to be at my bedside, she sleeps pretty soundly once I can get her to sleep.
No, this bone-deep exhaustion is from worry.
I was up the whole night pondering every decision I’ve ever made, wondering what I could’ve done differently and if any of it would have changed anything.
I wish I had heeded my family’s warnings more and avoided being seen out with so many women. And if Cici’s attorney decides to use this against me, it’ll be up to the judge as to whether or not she thinks I’m fit to be a father. Unfortunately, I’m afraid I already know the answer to that.
All I’m guilty of is consensual, be it frequent sex, and still, something so simple could cost me my daughter.
If it does, I don’t think I’ll ever forgive myself.
Samara asked me to keep quiet unless she says otherwise, so I’m doing exactly that.
I’ve had more than enough experience with my mouth getting me into trouble, and I’m not willing to risk Gia for my chance to put my two cents in.
But that becomes increasingly more difficult as I sit here, shifting uncomfortably in my seat as Cecily’s lawyer outlines all of my shortcomings for the judge to hear. As if I’m not already fully aware of every mistake I’ve ever made leading up to this point. I’m sure this will be great for my nightly inner monologue, hell bent on humbling me. If it comes down to it, we’ll have to pick a jury, and then I’ll have the lovely experience of doing this all over again.
I’m trying my best not to pay attention to what’s being said since there’s little I can do about it now. Instead, I focus on the handrails against the far wall with a hanging sign that says, “Wet paint.” The smell of the fresh lacquer has been burning my nose since we sat down.
When Cecily takes her turn, making little jabs at me, acid settles in my gut. While most of the things she’s saying would usually bounce off me, today, they stick.
The problem is that a lot of what they’re saying is true. I wouldn’t exactly consider myself someone who’s fit to be a father either, but the way Cici’s acting doesn’t add up to me. The mood swings, and the way she’s suddenly nit-picking my every action make me realize something I might’ve missed or not considered before.
Yes, she’s absolutely lived her life with a silver spoon in her mouth, but she’s never been someone I’d considered mean-spirited. She was always kind and generous, and frankly, I think we could’ve been together for a while if she hadn’t broken things off.
I don’t have any residual feelings for her, and I certainly wouldn’t say I was ever in love with her, but we got along fairly well. I’m so confused as to how we ended up here .
Pregnancy is fucking incredible. The fact that a human being can take something practically microscopic and turn it into another living, breathing person is miraculous, but it can also wreak havoc on a person’s body. There are so many hormonal changes that mess with your brain chemistry, and it can take months to feel some semblance of normalcy.
I’ve seen it time and time again with each of my sisters-in-law during their pregnancies. As much as there’s a part of me that almost wants to just hate Cecily for the time I’ve missed out on with Gia and the stress that she’s put me through, I can’t .
I don’t have the energy to hold that kind of hate right now, especially not when it isn’t what’s best for my daughter.
I’ve had to fall into a new role very quickly, and I recognize that there is so much that I’m still learning, but what I know for sure is that Gia having her mother in her life is what’s best for her. But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t also be a part of it.
Without another thought, I push out of my seat, standing abruptly as I turn my attention to Cici.
“Luca, sit down ,” Samara grits out at me.
I bend to whisper to her as everyone watches me silently. “I need to speak to her,” I say, straightening and heading toward Cici and her attorney, Hank.
He eyes me warily, and I can practically feel Samara’s dark eyes burning holes into my back.
I hover over Cici for a moment, and when she keeps her eyes cast downward, I crouch beside her to meet her where she’s at.
Her blue eyes are filled with sadness, and the red rimming her lashes nearly confirms all of my suspicions.
“Cici,” I say quietly, hoping only she can hear me. I place a hand over her knee, squeezing gently. When she doesn’t flinch or pull away, I maintain the point of contact, trying to physically ground her. “Tell me what you need,” I whisper.
A sob wracks her body as she hunches forward, nearly collapsing into my arms.
I wind them around her, holding her securely to me as I continue speaking while she lets her emotions ebb and flow for everyone to see. “Cici, this isn’t you, and I know it isn’t. I want what’s best for Gia, okay? And what’s best for her is for us to work together. She needs us both ,” I tell her as she sobs into my chest. “I don’t want to take her from you, but you’ve got to give me something here, Cici. I need to know what’s going on so I can help.”
She continues crying, her tears soaking through my suit jacket as she trembles against me.