"We never talked about it!" I hissed. "I never gave you any sign that I'm ready to be a mother! What if I didn't even want the baby?"
"I know you, Ivory. I knew as soon as you were pregnant, there would be nothing anyone could do to keep you from giving that child everything. Please, just try to understand—"
"When did you do it?" I asked, shaking my head and closing my eyes. I couldn't listen to him rant about how he'd known I would want this. I tried to think of what our relationship was like six weeks ago, but all I could think was that it was different. I fought the relationship at every turn.
"The morning after you first spent the night here, I saw your pills when I went to get your phone. That was when I put it in motion, and I replaced them within a few days."
"That was the first time we had sex," I snorted in disbelief. "You fucked me once and thought it entitles you to knocking me up? What is wrong with you?"
I ran my hands over my face, trying not to see the way his face tightened, that familiar possession running over his features as he stared down at me. He stepped into my space, and I winced at the feeling of his chest touching mine. "You have always been mine," he growled. "I wanted you bound to me in every way. I have done nothing but be clear that I would not lose you this time. I wanted you to be the mother of my children. I knew that in high school! Now, I'm a thirty-year-old man. I made it fucking happen, because I'll be damned if I waited for you to come to your senses. If I'd left you to come to terms with our relationship on your own and hadn't pushed you every step of the way, we'd have been forty before we got married."
I winced, stepping back out of his space and shaking my head. "You're wrong. If I trusted my instincts, we wouldn't have gotten here at all. And all you've done with this is prove those instincts right! I can't trust you, and I won't marry a man I can't trust, Teo," I whispered, moving to slide the ring off my finger.
"Don't you fucking dare," he hissed, making me stop. I turned on a huff, striding through the house to pack a bag. "Ivory!" he yelled, behind me. I passed Scar in the hallway, and he gave me wide eyes at whatever pissed off expression he saw on my face.
"We're leaving in ten minutes," I told him.
"Uh, is that cleared with the boss?"
"Fuck your boss," I spat. "So help me, Paolo, if you don't take me I will make your life a living Hell." I raced up the steps to the master, ignoring the sound of Matteo thundering after me.
"What the Hell are you doing?" he asked, hauling ass into the bedroom behind me as I hauled out my suitcase.
"I'm leaving. I can't do this with you." I tried to focus on the angry. Tried not to break down into tears as his betrayal felt like it stabbed right over the same scar tissue from the last time he'd ruined everything we had.
Sniffling against the tears making my throat ache, I ignored him in favor of shoving random clothes into my suitcase. "You can't leave," he whispered, the first sign of real regret coloring his tone.
"I can't even look at you right now. What you did, I—I don't know if I can ever get over that."
"You don't want the baby?" he whispered.
I spun around, staring him down fiercely. "Of course, I want the baby! I don't want you!"
He flinched, as if those words hurt him as much as I'd intended. But they couldn't because he didn't care what I wanted. "You don't mean that," he murmured, stepping into my space slowly, hesitantly.
"You hurt me," I whispered. "You promised you wouldn't hurt me again."
His face crumpled. "I'm sorry, Angel. I'm so sorry I hurt you. I just needed you to be mine completely. I couldn't bear the thought of losing you. Don't go. Just stay, and we can figure it out."
"You have to let me go home. I just want to go home for a while and think things through."
He sighed, nodding reluctantly and pressing his forehead against mine. "Take Scar with you."
"Okay," I whispered, turning and zipping my suitcase hastily.
"Ivory?" he asked when I reached the bedroom door. "I love you, Angel. I love the baby. More than anything else in this world. Take some time, think things through. But you'll come home. I won't accept anything else."
I swallowed, darting out of the room and down the stairs. Somehow, Scar knew I was cleared to leave, and he hustled me to the car where he let me break in silence.
Thirty-One
Ivory
The sound of my doorbell was jarring against the classical music playing in the background.
I hated it, but Sadie had read it was good for the baby.
I fought down the vomit that threatened at the smell of bacon as I made Scar breakfast. I didn't want him to know that cooking has become a chore. That I couldn't even enjoy that anymore, because the smell of food made my stomach roll. I couldn't have him reporting how ill I'd gotten to Matteo.
Despite hiding it, I knew the moment the doorbell rang, knew my time was ending.
The problem was, I was no closer to deciding what to do with myself. No closer to deciding if I'd ever be able to forgive Matteo for what he'd done. My hand rubbed my stomach out of habit, as if the baby could give me all the answers.
It surprised me he'd given me a few days. I didn't know if that was a sign that he was having second thoughts, or if I should look at it as a gift he gave me out of true remorse.
Scar nodded at me when he looked through the hole in the door, confirming what I already knew. I nodded back, even though I knew it was pointless. Scar would always do what Matteo told him to, no matter how I might care for the broody man. He'd quickly joined the ranks of people I love, and it hurt to know that when it was all said and done, I'd always be second to Matteo.
It shouldn't have hurt. He'd been Matteo's first.
But everything hurt.
He opened the door, leveling the man behind it with a glare I didn't expect and standing directly in the way so he couldn't enter. "Are you here to fuck it up again?" I startled, removing the bacon to a paper towel lined plate and turning off the stove in disbelief. I'd never heard Scar talk to Matteo with anything but respect.
"If you're stupid enough to stand between me and my woman, then maybe I need to think about cutting you loose. I don't employ stupid people," Matteo warned, and then his footsteps came into the house and the sound of the door closing followed. I didn't turn around, didn't want to look at him.
I wasn't ready. Not for this.
I still didn't know what I was doing.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, and I heard him tap his fingers on the island behind me.
He was too close, only a couple steps away, and even just the vague sense of him being there was enough to weaken my resolve.
I missed him.
So fucking much I wanted to strangle myself. There had to be something wrong with me. "She throws up about a hundred times a day," Scar answered helpfully, and I winced.
I guessed I wasn't as stealthy as I thought I was.
"Shut up and eat your breakfast," I teased, putting a plate in front of his usual seat at the island. He took it, digging into his eggs with vigor.