“Gianna,” I began, but had no fucking clue what to say. I’d gone over a hundred conversations in my head but still hadn’t settled on one by the time she arrived, thirty minutes early. “I need you to be honest with me.” Let’s lead with that, set the expectation.
“Of course,” she promised, but her hands were wringing in her lap, a dead giveaway that I’d already thrown her off-kilter. She clenched them together and settled them over her knee when she noticed me watching.
“The baby.” I held her gaze. I wanted her to look me in the eye. I wanted her to tell the truth and confess on her own. “Who’s the father?”
Her eyes darted to the side quickly and then settled back to me. “I don’t understand.”
“Tell me the truth.” My calm demeanor and even tone belied the turmoil boiling just below the surface. “Who is the baby’s father?”
She opened her mouth to speak but snapped it shut again. She wanted to lie, to keep the ruse going for her own selfish benefit, but she needed to fess up. Once she let her mask fall, it was obvious the guilt was eating at her. She’d been pretending for weeks. Pretending to still be in love with me, pretending that she’d all but forgotten Antonio, pretending to be carrying my child instead of his. Her lips trembled as tears pooled in her eyes.
“Dalton,” she pleaded.
Gianna didn’t want me to make her confess, but I needed to hear it from her. I wanted to be sure. Regardless of what she told me in the next few moments, I was going to be with Taylor. If, by some chance, the child turned out to be mine, I would honor my responsibility and shower my child with the love and affection my father never showed me. I would be there for Gianna, just not as a lover. But my gut was telling me that wasn’t the case.
“Tell me.” My command was gentle but left no room for argument.
“This wasn’t supposed to happen!” she said, breaking into sobs.
“You lied to me.”
“I never meant to hurt you.”
“You tried to trick me into taking responsibility for another man’s child!”
She cried harder. “I was losing everything. I had no choice!” Her voice rose in desperation.
“Of course you had a choice,” I snapped, climbing to my feet quickly. My chest heaved with barely contained anger. “You could have grown the hell up and taken responsibility for yourself, for once in your life. You have a degree and countless connections. You could easily get a job and support yourself. You had a boyfriend that you obviously loved. I mean,” I huffed out a humorless laugh, raking my hands through my hair, “you called off our wedding for him, so he must be very important to you. He should be the one helping to support you.”
She scoffed, crossing her arms over her chest defiantly. “Antonio doesn’t have a real job. He can’t even sell enough of his paintings to put food on the table.”
So she was his sugar mama.
“That’s not an excuse. What you did was unforgivable. Hell, everything you’ve done the last couple months has been unforgivable. Did you ever really love me at all?”
“Yes,” she answered on a strangled cry. “I still do. I’m just not in love with you anymore. And I think you feel the same way.”
“You were sleeping with someone else while we were engaged, and canceled our wedding because of him. Then you lied to me about being pregnant with my child. Can you blame me for no longer being in love with you?”
“It happened before that.”
“What?” I asked, taken aback. How can she say that?
“Things changed between us over the last year. The closer we got to the wedding, the more apparent it became that we weren’t meant for each other.”
“Like I said that night, you could’ve told me sooner.”
“I kept thinking it was just pre-wedding jitters. For both of us. It wasn’t until I met Antonio that I realized what was missing in our relationship.”
That stung. Even though I never wanted her back and was ready to give my heart to Taylor, it hurt to hear those words come out of her mouth. But I needed to hear them.
“You have to tell everyone else the truth. Do your parents know?”
“No,” she replied. Her shoulders sagged and her head hung shamefully. “They’re going to lose it.”
“Do you want them to come over here? Get it over with now?” Her eyes flashed to mine and widened in fear. I mentally kicked myself. Why did I offer to do that?
“I think I’d better tell Antonio first. He deserves to hear the truth before anyone else.”
“You’re right,” I agreed. “He does.”
“I’m so sorry for everything I’ve done to you.” Tears leaked from the corners of her eyes again. “I panicked. I didn’t know how I would live without my parents’ support. It was the only solution I could think of at the time. You were out of the country, my parents weren’t speaking to me, Antonio was spending hours in his studio, and I was throwing up every morning.”
Somehow, she managed to make me feel sympathy for her. I had no doubt she was scared, and people often made irrational and sometimes devastating decisions out of fear. For that, I couldn’t find it in me to hate her. I didn’t love her, and I certainly didn’t like her at the moment, but I didn’t hate her.
“I’m not going to tell you it’s okay because it’s not, but I accept your apology.” Forgiveness would come later. Her betrayal was just too fresh right now and I needed some distance.
She returned my house key without any fuss and I sent her on her way with the lunch she’d brought, encouraging her to meet up with Antonio. As mad as I was with her, he would be even more furious. At least, he should be.
I couldn’t believe how smoothly that went. I expected her to deny everything, forcing me to produce the recording. She didn’t even ask me how I knew. At least I didn’t have to rat out her friend. If I had, that girl would rue the day she crossed Gianna Venetti.
With that mess cleaned up, I plopped down on my couch and kicked up my feet, switching on the TV. I hadn’t been able to truly relax in weeks, and it was time to catch up with Sports Center.
***
At eight o’clock that evening, my phone rang and a photo I’d snapped of me and Taylor during that sunset cruise flashed across my screen. As promised, she was calling as soon as her shift was over. I hadn’t told her about the meeting with Gianna yet. That wasn’t a conversation I intended to have over text.
“Hey,” I greeted.
“Hey yourself,” she replied.
“How was work?”
“Good,” she answered a little breathlessly. “Busy. I just got out.”
“Are you tired?”
“Not really. I slept really well last night.” She giggled as an answering grin formed over my lips.
“Wanna come over and watch a movie with me?”
“Sure. I can be there in twenty.”
Here goes nothing.
“I was thinking maybe you could run home and pack an overnight bag before heading this way.”
She was silent for a beat and I almost took it back. I knew we’d spent several nights together already, but this was different. Aside from Gianna, I’d never allowed another woman into my space. It was a big step inviting her to stay. She had me sweating bullets, waiting for her answer.