Page 33 of Shiver

She starts rocking back and forth, and before I know it, she’s trying to roll over onto her back!

“That’s amazing, Gia,mia bambina!” I practically yell with excitement as I grapple to stand, running to the kitchen for my phone.

“Okay, now do that again, just one more time for Daddy,” I coo, hoping I’ll catch it on camera when she actually makes the final roll.

My family’s gonna lose it, and hell, maybe this’ll bring a little joy to Cici too.

Gia tries and fails to roll over a few more times, but the spit running out of the side of her mouth as she babbles happily tells me she isn’t the least bit frustrated.

She’ll roll when she wants to.

“You’ve got it, baby girl, don’t worry. No pressure from Daddy, okay? You do everything in yourowntime,” I say, hoping to start early on with the affirmations.

And just like that, she hoists herself up on her chubby little arms and makes the final push.She rolls over.

I clap my hands quickly, causing my palms to burn. My chest tightens, and warmth radiates throughout my body. “You did it! You did it, Gia!” I’m fucking elated as I take in the sight of this precious gift, accomplishing some of her first major milestones with me. It’s moments like these that ease the sting of missing out on the first three months of her life.

I quickly send the video to my family group chat and open up the message thread between Cici and me. Thankfully, she remembered to give me her new contact information the other day.

I hit send, and a moment later, a call comes through.

It’s Cici.

“Hey, you doing okay?” I ask her hesitantly, not bothering to make pleasantries.

“Yeah, I’m, uh, actually doing a lot better,” she says, sounding nervous. “I’ve been talking to my therapist, and I know it hasn’t been long since I started, but we agree that it’s a good idea for me to see Giavanna soon. If that’s okay with you?”

“Yeah, Cici, of course it’s okay with me. I meant what I said. You can see her anytime. Just take care of yourself, and I’ll take care of Gia. She needs her mother too; nothing’s going to change that,” I say, doing my best to reassure her.

She blows out a long breath before responding. “Thanks, Luca. Could we meet somewhere this week? My therapist suggested it be on neutral ground and said we may want to have a chaperone.”

“A chaperone?” I ask, not entirely sure what that means.

“Yeah, she says it can be useful to have a third party there to make things feel less personal, and…” she stutters, “she says that with someone else there, it’s less likely for me to just spend the whole time apologizing. So, would you mind finding someone? Just, um…” She continues to stammer. “Just not your family. They’re really great, but I can only handle so much pressure right now.”

My brows pinch, but I mull it over for a second before responding. “I’m not sure who to ask, but I’ll figure it out. It’s going to be okay, Cici. What day works best for you?”

“How is Thursday? I get discharged tomorrow, and then I start an outpatient program that I can do from home over video call. So anytime on Thursday should be fine,” she says, her tone more confident this time.

A small, sad smile curves the corners of my lips. Hearing that is bittersweet. “I’m glad you’re getting discharged tomorrow.” I take a breath. “I’m really proud of you,” I tell her honestly.

“Thank you, Luca, for everything. See you Thursday,” she says before hanging up.

I let out a repressed sigh, shaking my head in disbelief as I look over at Gia. “You’re gonna see your momma sooner than I’d anticipated,” I tell her. My stomach flutters with nervous energy at the thought.

Now who the fuck would I call about chaperoning the mother of my child and me?

Chapter twenty-nine

Samara

Thank god this day is over.

I groan, stretching my limbs out as I get comfortable in bed. I’m exhausted. It’s been one of those days that are full of surprises and not the kind I like. I won the case I went to trial for today, though, and finalized Luca’s paperwork too. I’ll just have to mail it to him, and then I can really close that chapter of my life.

Until the wedding, that is.

My phone rattles beside me on the nightstand. “Who the hell is calling me at nearly ten at night?”

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