Chapter 4 Aurelia
Aurelia
I went to Rosticceria Da Cristina the next morning.
It was impossible to drive in the little village of Taormina and parking was also a bitch, so Constantine dropped me off at the edge of town before he headed back home to do his morning workout.
He wasn’t quite himself after last night, but he didn’t seem distant with me either.
He was just lost.
The village was empty this early in the morning, so I walked to the restaurant alone. The door was unlocked when I got there, so I let myself inside. No one was in the front kitchen, so I called out, “Anyone here?”
A woman’s voice came from somewhere in the rear. “Back here.”
I headed farther into the back of the restaurant to the second kitchen. When I rounded the corner, I saw Beatrice, her hair up and flour on the front of her black apron. Her eyes were lively until the moment she saw me, and then they dimmed.
She couldn’t even pretend.
In another situation with another person, I’d probably just address it head-on.
Cut the shit, rip off the bandage, talk about the issue.
But I wanted to marry her brother someday, so I had to play the game by her rules.
Needed to give her time to warm up to me, to like me on her own terms instead of forcing her to accept mine.
“Good morning.” I forced a smile and stepped farther into her workplace, trying to act like I belonged there, when I was definitely encroaching on her turf.
She gave a slight smile, then focused on the dough in the bowl, working to mix it with the flour with her gloved hand. Her eyes were on her hand as she pretended I wasn’t still there.
Bitch, we’re going to be friends whether you like it or not. “Need a hand?”
“No.”
I walked to the sink and looked at the dirty dishes that were piled up. I started to wash them to help her out.
“You don’t have to do that,” she said from behind me.
“It’s no problem. I’d rather be productive while I wait for Antonio.” I hadn’t done the dishes in weeks, not since I moved in with Constantine. I didn’t do anything domestic at all because he had someone do all that for us.
She continued to work on her dough. Didn’t try to make conversation. Just let the tension fester.
“You have two boys?” I asked.
“Yeah.” Nothing else. She gave me literally nothing to work with.
“What are their names?”
“Amerigo and Edoardo.”
God, this feels like an interrogation.
Antonio saved the day when he walked inside and tied an apron around his waist. “Hey, Beatrice.”
“Hey.” She perked up real nice for him. “How’d it go last night?”
“Pretty good,” he said. “We’re going out again on Saturday.”
“Ooh, nice.”
I washed and dried my hands on the towel before I turned to Antonio.
He nodded to the other kitchen. “Let’s work in here.”
With fucking pleasure.
I walked out, gave Beatrice a smile that wasn’t reciprocated, and then joined him in the other kitchen. “God, that was brutal.”
He smirked like he knew exactly what I referred to. “Don’t let it get to you. Constantine isn’t the kind of guy to care what anyone thinks.”
If Antonio knew Beatrice didn’t like me, that meant she must have talked shit about me when I wasn’t around.
A lot of shit.
“What about his mother?” I asked.
“Well, I think she’s the one exception. But she loves you, so you’re set on that front.”
Around lunchtime, my alarm went off, so I stepped into the closet where everyone left their purses and belongings and fished my pill pack out of the bottom of my purse. I was about to pop the pill that I took at this time every day, but I realized all the pills were gone.
I’d completely finished the pack.
But . . . I hadn’t had a period.
A jolt shook my heart, and then adrenaline made my entire body go numb. I continued to stare at the empty pack as I waited for an explanation to hit me—any explanation other than that.
I’d finished the placebos but didn’t bleed, and I hadn’t even realized the pack was nearly empty when I’d taken the last pill yesterday. With everything going on, I hadn’t really thought much about it. “Oh shit . . . no.”
I heard footsteps outside the door.
I quickly shoved the pack back into my purse before anyone saw.
It was Beatrice. She stepped into my line of sight, glanced at her purse and then at me. “Everything okay?”
I was surprised she had enough compassion to address what she’d overheard, but I was too overwhelmed by the earthquake that had just struck me to really care. “Yeah, I’m great. I’m just gonna take my lunch.” I pulled the purse over my shoulder and bolted past her, then out the front door.
The sea air struck my face like a breeze because I walked so quickly.
“Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god . . .” I felt the heat in my face because the stress was like an inferno in my belly.
The possibility that I could be pregnant was horrifying because I wasn’t ready to be a mom right now.
And I knew Constantine wasn’t in that headspace either.
What if he thought I’d done this on purpose?
“Okay, chill.” I didn’t even know if I was pregnant yet. Maybe I was just late. People were just late sometimes, right?
I booked it to the little grocery store next to the cannoli place we’d been on my first visit here.
Loud dance music played overhead, and the store was already packed with local shoppers.
I beelined for the aisle in the back and picked up the electronic pregnancy test that explicitly spelled out pregnant or not pregnant on the screen because I didn’t want to be a dumbass and think I read it wrong.
I was so stressed that I could feel the pulse all over my body, right at my neck and wrists and ankles. My bladder wasn’t even full, but I felt like I had to pee because of the sheer anxiety. I bought a pack of plastic cups, checked out, and then found the closest public restroom I could.
I peed in the cup, dropped the stick inside, sat on the closed toilet lid, and set a timer for three minutes.
Three long fucking minutes.
The cup was on the floor, and I stared at the stall door as I waited for time to pass.
Longest three minutes of my damn life.
I rubbed my palms together over and over, tried to breathe when I could literally feel my heart beating against my chest, tried not to pass out or throw up. I thought women had morning sickness when they were pregnant, and I hadn’t felt any of that . . . so maybe I wasn’t pregnant.
Finally, the alarm went off.
I picked up the cup so fast, I spilled it, urine going all over the floor.
I didn’t give a damn, and my eyes went straight to the screen on the stick.
Pregnant.