Page 87 of Silence and Surrender

“Always.”

The vineyard was waking outside our window, workers calling to each other in Italian, Clara’s laughter drifting up from the garden. Normal life continuing while we lay tangled in borrowed sheets, learning how to hope again.

“Eat something,” Colton said, reaching for the grapes. “You need your strength.”

I took one, letting its sweetness burst on my tongue. “For revenge?”

“For life.” He fed me another grape, his touch infinitely gentle. “For healing. For whatever comes next.”

“Even if what comes next isn’t perfect?”

“Especially then.” He gathered me closer, letting me feel his strength, his certainty. “Because perfect isn’t the goal anymore. Living is.”

I settled against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat. Thinking of the life that was growing inside me—his or not his, wanted or not wanted, a choice I’d have to make soon.

But not yet.

Allegra found us in the kitchen an hour later. I was picking at the breakfast Colton had insisted on making—eggs, toast, and fresh fruit from the garden. His protective instincts seemed to have shifted into overdrive, though he was trying not to hover too obviously.

“How are you feeling?” Allegra asked, her tendency to mother everyone around her heightened since we’d learned I was pregnant.

“Like everything’s surreal.” I pushed a strawberry around my plate. “Like I’m still processing.”

“That’s normal.” She squeezed my shoulder as she passed, the casual touch no longer making me flinch.

Progress.

“Have you discussed options?”

Colton stilled by the coffee maker, his back tense. Waiting. Letting me answer.

“We’re going to do a paternity test,” I said. “And then...” I met his eyes across the kitchen. “Then we’ll decide.”

“A good first step.” Allegra’s voice was carefully neutral. “I can make the arrangements at the clinic here in town. They’re very discreet.”

Clara’s voice drifted in from the terrace, singing some Italian song Allegra had taught her. The sound of innocent joy made my throat tight.

“Whatever you decide,” Allegra continued softly, “we’re all here. You have support. You have choices.”

Choices. Such a simple word. Such a profound gift after having all choice stripped away.

Cooper appeared in the doorway, Clara holding his hand, her other arm full of stuffed animals. She reached for me immediately; she’d taken to doing that lately, like she sensed I needed her innocent affection.

“Bella!” She squirmed until Cooper released her hand. “Papa says we’re having a special dinner tonight. With the good wine that makes Mama laugh.”

I caught her as she crashed into my legs, breathing in her clean child-scent. “Does he now?”

“Family dinner,” Cooper explained, his eyes kind. “Seemed like a good night for it.”

Colton moved closer, his hand settling warm on my lower back. Supportive.

“The good wine will have to wait,” he said quietly.

Clara looked up at me with bright eyes. “Are you sick, Bella? Is that why no wine?”

I felt Colton’s hand tighten slightly. Heard Allegra’s soft intake of breath. Saw Cooper’s eyes fill with something akin to grief.

But all I could focus on was this little girl who loved so freely. Who didn’t know about choices that could break you.

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