He blinked, then exhaled deeply, “My father,” he began. “He got into an accident two towns away. I drove there the moment I heard. It was bad, Rosie. I spent the first week night at the hospital, the next managing things with his doctors and lawyers. I didn’t want to worry you.”
His tone was careful, deliberate, each word dripping with practiced exhaustion. “I wanted to call, but everything was chaos. I barely slept. I kept thinking about you, though. About how I’d make it up to you once I got home.”
I said nothing. His story was airtight, polished smooth by guilt and preparation.
“Rosie,” he murmured, reaching for me. “I’m sorry. You know how much my family means to me. I thought you’d understand.”
“I do,” I said. “Completely.”
He smiled faintly, relieved. He didn’t see the way my hands curled into fists.
“How’s the baby?” he asked suddenly, his gaze flicking to my stomach as if remembering I existed. “You been taking your medicine? Your belly’s still small.”
He reached for me again. I took another step back.
“Don’t touch me,” I said quietly. “I don’t feel well.”
He frowned, calling for the maid, his concern mechanical, dutiful, practiced. When he found out I hadn’t been taking the prenatal medicine, he went straight to the kitchen, performing his role again.
“Come on, baby,” he said when he returned, holding a steaming bowl. “You need this. It’s good for you. You don’t want to suffer later, right?”
I stared at it. The smell turned my stomach. But I didn’t speak. I didn’t have the strength to argue.
The doorbell rang before he could press further. A few of his friends came in, faces drawn and tense. He handed me the bowl, told me to rest, and disappeared into the study with them.
….
As soon as the door closed, I poured the medicine down the sink. The black liquid swirled away, like everything else between us.
Then I heard voices.
“Dominic, Loriana’s in trouble,” one of them said. “Her family’s forcing her to marry someone else. The wedding’s in two days.”
There was a crash probably a cup hitting the wall. Then silence.
And then his voice, “I won’t let that happen!”
Someone laughed, nervous. “What are you saying, man? You’re going to stop the wedding?”
“She’s your ex. You have a wife. A baby coming.”
“You’re gonna ruin yourself for her?”
“What about Rosie?”
“What about your kid?”
Their voices tangled together, all confusion and disbelief.