CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
During the drive, I fired off a group email to Cass, Jacob, Mama, and my grandparents, attaching the congratulations letter and promising more details soon.
When we pulled up to the Excelsior Hotel Gallia, the hotel manager and a valet greeted us, the latter whisking the car away from Zane.
We barely crossed the lobby before Rocco appeared, and the energy in the room shifted.
He was more than my husband; he was Rocco Marini, the celebrity heir everyone in Italy recognized.
Confidence clung to him like his bespoke suit, and his presence seemed to draw every gaze in the room.
He moved with the easy authority of an emperor, his head high and chest proud.
That was the Rocco the world admired, but I also remembered the gentle giant who held me with such care.
As he joined me, my pulse raced, and I felt fragile beside him. Would I always feel this way?
I ached to feel him press me into his side and kiss my lips with a commanding thirst. But he merely stood next to me. Falling in love with him had changed me. There were no walls to keep my heart protected, and the distance he placed between us felt as if I were under a heavy weight.
The hotel manager greeted me and when we reached Rocco shook his hand. “Welcome, Mr. and Mrs. Marini. If you’d follow me, I’ll escort you to the elevator.”
Rocco’s features softened into an easy smile as he shook the manager’s hand, asking after his family while we made our way to a private elevator. When his hand grazed my back as we stepped inside, a shiver ran through me, my muscles quivering with anticipation. His touch always set me alight.
“We’re at the top?” I joked in a light tone.
“Yes. That’s where the penthouse suite is,” Rocco replied, his tone playful. Laughter rippled through the group, dissolving some of the tension. Even if the joke was on me, I was grateful to hear his laughter. Had it really only been hours since I last basked in his warmth?
I hated this distance. I hated that I’d caused it. But I also understood he needed time to sort through several bombs at the moment.
Minutes later, we arrived, and Rocco lingered behind as I said my goodbyes and walked the hall alone.
The Katara Royal Suite unfolded into a grand living room, with plush couches, elegant dining tables, Art Deco lighting, and sleek flat-screen TVs.
Through a wall of glass, a terrace beckoned, offering a breathtaking view of Milan, where gothic arches and ornate stonework mingled with gleaming skyscrapers.
“It’s lovely,” I said in awe.
“It is,” Rocco’s deep voice said behind me. My head turned, and I found him close. I shifted on my feet to hide how much his presence affected me.
He cleared his throat. “Dr. Vitale said she could speak to us both now. I thought that you’d benefit from her assurance.”
I raised my brows. “So, you decided to postpone the meeting?”
“For a half hour. I’ve given the USB drive to Gunnar so he can look at it and prep.”
“Oh.” I nodded, but I understood what he had left out. He postponed listening in on the call because he didn’t trust I’d tell him everything.
Rocco gestured toward the couch and sat down next to me while we waited. “Oh, and I have some more news,” he announced. “My parents want to meet with us when we return to Florence. And we have our family portrait scheduled. Santiago Romeo—”
“Oh, my God. Seriously? Santiago’s painting us?” I shrieked. “I didn’t know he did personal commissions.”
Rocco’s lips curved into a smile. “He does for Luca Marini. We’re one of four he’s agreed to do over the last twelve years. It was another parting gift from Grandpa.”
Santiago’s reputation was legendary. He had painted for the Vatican and was celebrated for breathing new life into Renaissance art. The thought of meeting an artist I so admired sent a thrill through me.
Rocco’s mention of Luca was like chasing a shadow. I was back inside the office, watching him talk to me on the video, longing for one more conversation. God, I wish I could speak to you now.
Buzz. I checked my phone. “It’s Dr. Vitale.”
“Put her on speaker.”
I did and placed the phone on the table. “Hello?”
“Hello, Adelina. Rocco?”
“Yes, I’m here, too. Thank you, Vitale, for calling.”
“How are you doing, Adelina?”
“I’m…I’m okay. Thanks. How are you?”
“Very well, thank you. I understand you consent to this joint discussion?”
I cleared my throat. “I do.”
“Rocco disclosed that you want to take a test to see if you’re pregnant?”
I shifted my legs nervously on the seat. “I do.”
“We prefer to wait for at least one missed menstrual cycle. According to our records, you’re close to your last one. Are you still regular?”
“I haven’t been checking as much, but I think I am,” I said, my voice rising an octave. I glimpsed Rocco, who was staring intently at me, and touched my hot neck.
“When’s the last time you had sex?” she asked.
“Last night,” Rocco answered.
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. “Yeah, he’s right.”
“Do you know how many times you may have had sex since you stopped taking the pill?”
I hunched my shoulders and crossed my shaking arms. “I’m not sure…” But I had an idea and didn’t want to say it.
“I’ll accept a guess, Adelina. It’ll help,” she said.
My face burned. “Maybe, I don’t know…three different times?”
Rocco cursed under his breath.
“I could be wrong. I also took a birth control pill,” I added quickly.
“Okay, thank you, Adelina. How about you come to my office when you return, and I’ll do a physical exam and test? Have you both considered terminating the pregnancy?”
“No,” Rocco and I said at the same time.
“Okay. We’ll test it then and take it from there. If you are pregnant, Adelina, we’ll start helping you prepare for the birth. Do not take any more birth control pills. Okay?”
“Okay,” I said.
“Now, please, if you experience any bleeding or discomfort, go to the emergency room in Milan or come to my practice in Florence. You can call me anytime.”
Rocco and I thanked her.
“Are you okay, Adelina? I know this is all new for you, having sex for the first time recently.”
I sighed. “Yeah. I’m a little bit…scared? I know about pregnancies, but what am I to do while I wait? What if I am pregnant and do something that will hurt the baby?”
“You won’t,” Rocco said to me.
“That’s common, Adelina. It’s always overwhelming for new mothers with their first baby. If you’re not pregnant, I still recommend that you relax and try not to stress. Eat well and sleep. You can call if you need someone to talk to. Okay?”
“Okay, thank you, Dr. Vitale.”
“Yes, thank you, Dr. Vitale. I’ll make sure she’s well, and we’ll see you soon.”
“Good, Rocco. Thank you. See you both soon.”
“Goodbye,” I said, and we ended the call.
I trembled, lowering my head and wrapping my arms around myself. Rocco was right about waiting to have a baby. I felt unprepared, and now with the uncertainty of not knowing left me feeling raw and even more alone.
“Adelina,” Rocco said softly.
“I’m sorry, Rocco,” I whispered, my voice rough. “I know I can’t undo this. I…I wish I could change it.”
“You can’t,” Rocco said and blew out a breath. “I blame myself.”
I frowned. “Why? No.”
“If I had protected you more, you would’ve talked to me.” He scrubbed the hair on his jaw.
“No. That’s not true. I just had a lot on my mind . . .” I bobbed my head but didn’t look at him.
“I get it, Adelina. Maybe you thought about solving our problems. But please, listen to me. Your well-being is more important than creating a movie studio and my inheritance. You are the most important part of my life. Nothing matters to me more than you.”
Tears slipped down my cheeks, but I stayed rigid. “You matter to me, Rocco. All I want is for you to be happy.”
Silence stretch longer than minutes and my insecurity rose. With Rocco, I imagined us happy about having a child when the time came. I took away our time.
“You’re scared?” Rocco finally asked in a gentle tone.
My throat closed, and I was unable to answer.
“Come here.” He opened his arms, and I edged closer, resting my head against his chest. My heart pounded against my ribs, and my mind swirled with doubt. Was this comfort, or was he being a gentleman?
His hand settled lightly on my back, and I closed my eyes.
He was offering comfort, though not quite as before.
I wanted to collapse in tears, but instead, I stayed in his arms, silent and absorbing the solace he still gave me, even after all I’d done.
That was one of the countless reasons I loved him and wished he would be mine forever.
I thought about his words, about his love for me.
“Your well-being is more important than creating a movie studio and my inheritance. You are the most important part of my life. Nothing matters to me more than you.”
He loved me. Thank God, he loved me.
But how long until he forgave me?