Page 101 of Trapped

“You haven’t been eating much lately. Are you feeling okay?”

I shrugged. “I haven’t had much of an appetite.”

Santino’s brow furrowed. “You sure that’s all it is? You’ve been a little different.”

“How?”

Santino reached out, tilting my chin so I met his gaze. “You’re more tired than usual. And you’ve been avoiding food. That’s not like you.”

I sat up. “Maybe I’m not in the mood to eat.”

“Delilah, I think you should take a pregnancy test.”

My heart skipped a beat.

He traced circles on my back. “I mean, it could explain a few things, right?”

I nodded, my stomach churning.

My period was a bit late. Two weeks. I didn’t want to examine what that meant. The thought of being pregnant was not something I wanted to contemplate. Life was too crazy right now: my store burned down, missing cousins had reappeared, and my ex still wanted to kill me.

Santino nudged my back. “There’s a test in the bathroom.”

“I’m not taking it. It’ll just be another thing on my plate.”

“Ignoring it won’t change the truth.”

“No, but it’ll make me feel better.”

Santino pulled me closer, his arms enveloping me in a tight hug. “You’re not alone. We’ll do this together. Let’s just start with knowing for sure.”

I turned, my legs shaky, and walked to the bathroom.

I found the test in a drawer and unwrapped it, my hands trembling. After I did my business, I leaned against the sink and waited for the results. A single dark line formed in the small window and stayed solid.

Not pregnant.

My lungs deflated, and my whole body sagged. Why wasn’t I pregnant? I caught myself on the edge of the sink, my eyes stinging. Was Icrying? Because I wasn’t pregnant?

I threw the test in the trash.

Santino looked up, his eyes searching mine.

“It’s negative,” I said.

I should’ve been thrilled, right?

A lead weight formed in my stomach as I climbed into bed. I disappeared into the sheets, yanking the duvet to my chin. I couldn’t make sense of the emotions raging in my head. I wasn’t going to become a mother. Relief warred with a strange sadness.

Santino smoothed my hair from my face. “It’s okay to be disappointed.”

My insides splintered.

Santino’s hand rested gently on my arm, his presence grounding me, but even he couldn’t stop the storm that had settled in my chest. I needed to tell him about Luca. I’d tried to, but I had to insist he heard me out. Every day that passed, it got harder to say the words, harder to explain why I hadn’t said anything sooner. And now it felt like everything was slipping beyond my control.

“I don’t know what I’m doing.”

Santino shifted beside me, his hand still on my arm. “You don’t have to figure it all out right now.”

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