Chapter 9 Aurelia #2
“It was good.” When the tumultuous moment was upon us, I felt all my fiery nerves burning my body. So tense I felt hard as a rock. My defenses were up, my expectations were low. Men had let me down my entire life, and I was afraid Constantine might do the same. “What about you?”
“I took a quick tour of this open spot in town. A little small, think we need something bigger.”
“For what?” I asked.
“The restaurant.”
“Oh, you were serious about that.”
He grinned. “When I say I’m going to do something, I do it.”
I just felt like it was rushed. Maybe not to him, because the restaurant business was in his blood, but for someone like me, it felt like a lot. And maybe my mind was on the baby that he didn’t know about . . . and all the stuff we still had to do.
He pulled out his phone and sent a text. “Told Elio we’re ready for dinner. I’m starving.”
“I get hungry when I drink a lot too.”
He grinned at me again. “You saw I was at Daiquiri.”
I didn’t realize what I’d said until it was over. I’d just shoved my foot into my mouth, and now, I couldn’t pull it out. “Sorry. You’re usually home—”
“Don’t be sorry. I like knowing that you check. I check yours all the time.”
“You do?”
“Yeah,” he said. “I like to know where you go for lunch, like to see your little dot move around the restaurant. Makes me feel like I’m a part of your day.
I met with the real estate agent, and then I met Francesco and Aldo for drinks afterward.
Didn’t tell them about the restaurant. I’ll tell my mom first. Technically, I have to get her permission first if I want to use the same name.
I know she’s been thinking about another location. ”
“Yeah.” The second he mentioned his mom, I mentally left the conversation. His mind was in a whole different place from mine. He was thinking about buildings and recipes, and I was thinking about how I could tell him this unbelievable news.
He studied me for a moment, his eyes shifting back and forth between mine like he was reading my mood, but he didn’t ask what troubled me. Just left it alone.
Now I wished he would ask, because I wasn’t sure if I could tell him this on my own.
Elio appeared on the terrace with the cart he brought up on the elevator. It was spread with a white tablecloth with a pitcher of water and a bottle of wine, along with two plates covered in silver lids.
I got more anxious at the sight of him, knowing I would tell Constantine after he left.
Elio greeted us with a smile, served our dinner, and opened the bottle of wine.
He left the cart there so we could put everything inside the lockbox when we were done so we wouldn’t attract the birds.
He usually cleaned it up sometime in the morning when we were at work or Constantine was in the gym.
Elio said good night and left.
Now it was just the two of us, the summer breeze welcoming, now that the sun was mostly gone. The string of lights over the terrace started to get brighter as the sunlight disappeared.
Constantine removed the lids from our dishes and started to eat, elbows on the table. A large filet of fish in white sauce and capers, along with a side of greens and roasted potatoes. It was an appetizing sight, but I felt no hunger at all. In fact, I felt like I might throw up my lunch.
He ate a couple bites as he glanced at me here and there.
I didn’t even reach for my fork, just watched him eat, feeling sicker and sicker as time ticked by.
He wiped his mouth with the linen, then stopped eating his dinner. He took a drink of his wine, then gave me his full attention, arms on the table, eyes locked with laser focus. A small breeze moved through his hair.
Oh my god, I wasn’t sure if I could do this . . .
He continued his stare, eyes demanding and desperate, like he wanted me to answer the question he never asked out loud.
My heart was like a drum in my chest. The pace compounded every few seconds. I felt like I was on the verge of collapse, I was so anxious.
“Sweetheart.” He extended his hand across the table, palm up, eyes still on me. “Come on, tell me.”
If I didn’t do it within the next few seconds, I thought I might pass out. I couldn’t handle this stress anymore. Needed to be free of this anxiety. My hand moved to his, and I took a deep breath.
He squeezed it before he enveloped it with his other hand. Then he sat and patiently waited, looking at me with confident eyes tinted with emotion. “It’s okay,” he said gently. “It’s okay . . .”
My eyes started to water in fear and catharsis. “I’m—I’m pregnant.”
He inhaled a deep breath and squeezed my hand simultaneously.
Then a slow smile moved over his lips and reached his eyes .
. . and they filled with unshed tears. His espresso-colored eyes turned into mirrors because they became so wet and reflective.
He inhaled another deep breath as his smile widened, and he squeezed my hand even harder. Two tears streaked down his cheeks.
I’d run through so many possibilities of how this conversation would go, but I’d never suspected this could be one of them. I felt my own tears burn my eyes from relief and happiness . . . and love.
He released my hand to wipe away his tears. He sniffed and blinked and swallowed back the emotion he’d let escape to the surface. “I’ve never felt this happy in my whole life.” His hand went back to mine, and he looked at me again.
All that fear about telling him . . . was for nothing.
I felt stupid keeping this secret. Felt stupid for keeping it for weeks, for stressing myself out until my hair started to fall out, afraid that I was going to lose him over this.
“That’s what’s been on my mind all this time. I was just too afraid to tell you.”
“Why?”
“I didn’t want you to think I did it on purpose. I’ve never missed a pill. I don’t know what happened. I don’t want you to think I’m trying to trap you or something.”
“Why would I think that?” His eyes remained emotional, but his voice sounded calm, as usual.
“I—I don’t know. We’ve only been together for a couple months.”
“But we have a lot of sex.” Then he grinned widely. “A lot.”
A laugh escaped my chest, a laugh I hadn’t felt in a long time.
“And even if you did, I couldn’t care less.”
“What?”
“Trap me, I don’t care,” he said. “I’ve wanted to be trapped by you since the moment we met.
Fine by me.” His signature smile came through and reached his eyes, so confident in his happiness, so calm in his aura.
His fingers started to caress mine, being the gentlest with me he’d ever been.
“I don’t care if it was unplanned, I don’t care if it’s been just a few months, this feels right.
It feels right because it’s you—because it’s us. ”
Constantine undressed me slowly before he guided me to the bed. Stripped off his T-shirt and jeans and his boxers before he moved on top of me. Instead of bending me into place and taking me with enthusiasm, he kissed my belly.
Kissed it like it was distended and swollen with life.
Kissed my belly button and my hips, right at the bottom of my rib cage, everywhere.
His hands felt me, his rough fingertips brushing over the smooth skin.
He moved down between my thighs and kissed the flesh before he kissed the area where I wanted to feel his lips most. He gave me his full attention and his tongue, and he sucked my body into his mouth to taste.
Then he moved back over me, back to my stomach, worshipping it once again like it was what turned him on the most. I hadn’t changed at all anatomically, but it made him a whole different lover.
My fingers dug into his hair, and I watched him kiss me, like he wanted to feel a heartbeat against his lips. I’d thought this would make him love me less, but it seemed to make him love me more.
When he finally had his fill, he moved up my body until our eyes were level.
His eyes smoldered for me like I was the hottest woman in the bar whom he’d taken home for the night.
He started to separate my thighs as he nestled between the soft flesh, eyes on me all the while, sliding his hand into my hair before he kissed me.
Once and then twice, kissing different parts of my mouth before my jawline.
Then he guided himself inside me and started to sink, releasing a quiet moan when he felt me for at least the hundredth time. He didn’t pin my legs back like he normally did, letting my knees hug his torso while my ankles locked together at the small of his back.
He thrust within me, long and sure strokes, an even pace that wasn’t quick or slow. With his hand deep in my hair, he kissed me, our breaths growing together as we felt each other, as my nails dragged down his back and his tongue delved into my mouth.
I had no doubt that Constantine was honest with me, that he was happy rather than disappointed.
Because he might be able to put on a show during a conversation, but he wouldn’t have been able to make love like this.
To come so close to me I could feel our souls touch, to look me in the eye like that with an endless sea of love.
To touch me so gently because he thought I might break.
I loved this man long before I’d said it aloud, swept off my feet and lost in his arms the moment we met.
But now, our love had deepened into something I could hardly describe.
I didn’t feel broken after my relationship with Enzo died, not when Constantine healed me before I could shatter on the floor.
It felt like God had given him to me as payment for what I’d suffered, for not having a father, for losing my mother so young, for giving my heart to someone who wasn’t man enough to take care of it.
And now, he’d given me the life that grew inside me.
I was scared to be a mother, wasn’t ready for such a big responsibility. But all of a sudden, it didn’t feel scary anymore. Now it felt like we’d wanted this all along, that we’d been trying to make this blessing since we met.
Now I felt confident to take this on.
I felt brave . . . because Constantine made me feel brave.