34
GAbrIELA DUARTE
“Yours, Luca. I haven’t been with another man.”
No emotion crossed his face.
“That’s impossible.”
“Apparently not.”
“I had the test repeated yesterday. With Marinelli.”
“And I’m pregnant. That’s why I’ve been trying to talk to you since I got back.”
“I asked for the full hotel footage. They haven’t sent it yet.”
“So you haven’t even seen the whole recording?”
“I’ve seen enough.”
I pointed to the photographs.
“You haven’t spoken to the employee or to Cris. You took this from Lorenzo and Beatrice and decided what happened.”
“Are you accusing my brother of fabricating a pregnancy?”
“I’m accusing him of fabricating an affair.
“And how did they get my result before I showed it to you? Who ordered someone to dig through a private medical appointment?”
He looked at the document but didn’t answer. I moved closer to the table.
“I didn’t book the appointment through the event organizers. I paid for the tests. I sent no results to the hotel. Whoever told you that lied.”
“It doesn’t change my diagnosis.”
“Diagnoses can be wrong.”
“Three tests aren’t wrong.”
“See a specialist outside that clinic. And we’ll have a DNA test when the baby’s born. I’m not asking you to pretend you’re certain. I’m asking you to find out with me.”
I opened the calendar on my phone and showed him the appointment date. In the weeks before his trip, he’d come to my room, met me in the garden, slept with me. We didn’t have to go back to the night of the ball, months earlier. We’d kept being together.
“The morning after the dinner, the doctor estimated about five weeks. This pregnancy didn’t begin on the night of that photograph.”
He finally looked at the screen.
“I don’t know how many other times you met.”
“The times you know about. The visits to Lisbon and the Palazzo were months ago. Now you’re inventing meetings so you don’t have to consider that the test could be wrong.”
I found the doctor’s contact details. Luca moved away from the table.
“I’m not discussing my health with a stranger in the middle of the night.”
“Then come with me tomorrow. We’re talking about a child, Luca.”
I set the phone beside the ultrasound image. He didn’t come closer.
“Tomorrow, after choosing tonight to tell me?”
“I tried to tell you sooner. You wouldn’t listen.”
“You waited until the opening. Until your position was secure and the Palazzo finished.”
The accusation showed me how far he’d already gone.
“My contract was confirmed months ago, after the audit. And you agreed to talk the night you got back. It’s here. Read your reply.”
“And now they’ll say you used it to secure your future.”
“I don’t want your money.”
“You never wanted small amounts.”
I recoiled as though he’d struck me.
“What does that mean?”
He showed me the false messages. One mentioned Augusto; another, the opening and a child who could secure my future.
“I never wrote that.”
“You used the corporate phone at the event.”
“For one call to a supplier and messages about measurements. I returned it before dinner. The conversations you’re showing me are from the early hours of the morning. I didn’t even have the phone.”
“The report attributes the messages to the number assigned to you.”
“Then find out who had it after I returned it.”
He checked the timestamp again. I waited. It was the first thing that had made him return to a page instead of simply pushing it at me.
“I can’t explain Marinelli’s result. I’m not a doctor.”
“Cris is.”
“Are you suggesting he planned this with me?”
“Did he know about my tests?”
The question made me look up. He’d been there when I called.
“He did.
“You gave me permission to ask him for specialist recommendations. I didn’t send your reports. And I told him about my pregnancy because I needed guidance while you were away.”
“And he told you diagnoses can be wrong.”
“Because they can.”
“Or he gave you a convenient story.”
“Stop.”
My voice came out louder than I’d intended. In the garden, the guests applauded the end of the fireworks. The music started again. I pulled out a chair and sat; I needed to stop shaking before I could go on.
“You promised to ask before you condemned me.”
“I am asking.”
“Asking means saying ‘What happened?’ and listening to my answer. You’re asking like a prosecutor who’ll accept nothing but a confession.”
“Because every answer requires me to dismiss facts.”
“To verify facts. There’s a difference.”
He picked up the page of timestamps. “You’re asking me to believe my brother, the messages, and the tests are all part of a lie.”
“I’m asking you to find someone who doesn’t answer to him. Start with the hotel. I’ll wait right here while you call.”
He laid the sheet on the others. He didn’t pick up the phone. I looked at his empty hand, then at his face.
“Do you love me?”
He lifted his head.
“I never said I did.”
I withdrew the hand I’d reached toward him. I hadn’t even touched him.
“No. I waited. I thought you needed time.”
“This isn’t about love.”
“It’s about trusting me enough to make one phone call. That’s all, Luca. I’m not even asking you to hold me.”
I put the results back in the envelope and laid it on the rose. I closed the box. The lid’s snap sounded loud in the room.
The handle turned. Beatrice came in without knocking, looked at the papers on the table, then at the box in my hands.
“You told her?” I asked Luca.
He didn’t answer.
His silence confirmed that the three of them had discussed my pregnancy before I could tell the father.
“The guests are asking for you,” Beatrice announced.
“Get out.”
She looked at Luca.
“Perhaps you should put an end to this before anyone notices.”
He didn’t tell her to leave. Didn’t defend me. His silent choice was clear.
She came to the table and reached for the box.
“Perhaps we should leave that with the lawyers.”
I pushed her hand away.
“You don’t touch my test results.”
Luca picked up the phone. He called for security to escort me when I left and asked Legal to preserve the documents he’d brought from Milan. Then he requested that my work access be blocked. I lifted my head at the sound of my name followed by that order.
“My work passed inspection today. You can’t erase that because you won’t listen to me.”
“Legal will deal with the contract.”
He took a checkbook from the folder. He’d brought it with him. I watched the pen move across the paper and understood why he’d left my results untouched. He’d had a solution ready before I walked in.