Page 194 of Falling for the Wife

“No, it’s not Signor Bertrand, but uh … it’s Signora Gallo.”

“Che?”I blurted, tensing at the sight of the figure that entered the doorway.

My eyes trained on her like a metal to a magnet. Even though she looked beautifully inviting, I knew better whenever she was concerned. Yes, I was beyond enticed upon seeing her, allured even, and at the same time, watchful.

“It’s me,” the familiar figure softly whispered, announcing her unwanted presence. “KimberlyGallo, in case you have forgotten my married name.”

Like I would ever forget it! How dare she even pour more gas into the already burning furnace?

Gritting my teeth, I sent her an infuriating glare without taking my eyes off her.

“Leave us,” I barked out loudly as I swiftly got up from my chair. My heedless move wasn’t the brightest of ideas since my head immediately spun, so I gripped the ends of the table to balance my stance, stabilizing myself.

Her eyes dropped towards my hands, making note that I wasn’t myself. Instead of remarking about it, however, she attempted to come towards me with glistening eyes.

I could have been moved by her distress, but I was far gone into my miserable state. Therefore, I didn’t greet her nor did I bother with the niceties of asking her to take a seat. She was far from being a guest in my home.

“What are you doing here?”

She looked perplexed at my question, as if she hadn’t expected my blunt treatment towards her.

“I wanted to see how you are. I…” She took a lungful of air before her lip wobbled again, clearly dismayed. “I went to the hospital, and they told me you had checked out last night…” Her luscious bottom lip quivered, drawing my acute attention towards it. “How could you be so casual about all of this?”

I made a dark, cruel smirk, masking the intense, crippling urge to plunk a kiss on those delicious lips of hers. “What I do or don’t do is none of your business. You made it as such, Kimberly. The only problem I see here is you pestering me like you’re my wife.”

She ignored my insult. “I know it isn’t, but I’m making it mine,” she said, unrelenting. “Don’t you want to see the baby?”

Seriously, she really wanted to go there already? All right. Fine. So be it.

Sending her an infuriated glare, I didn’t hesitate dishing the truth. “A baby that isn’t confirmed as mine yet, so don’t get too ahead of yourself, Kim,” I declared, squashing the odd sensation that was making my chest tighten at the very thought of her carrying my child.

“It’s yours. We made this together. I didn’t do this on my own.”

Hmmm. “Well, the jury is still out on that one.”

Ignoring the excruciating throb in my head, I rounded the table to fully face her less composed form, standing mere inches from her face. The impact of this closeness was too acute to put words to, but it was something I reveled in. Maybe it was her scent that I needed a reminder of or the fact that I couldn’t seem to help myself getting close to her. Regardless, I knew I needed to have a little of her. It was sad and pathetic, but it was the absurd truth. Her scent was the aphrodisiac to my starved senses, and it couldn’t be helped. It was in my human nature.

“You must understand, Luca, had I known things would’ve turned out this way, I would’ve avoided getting together with you altogether.”

Ah! There it was. The partial truth and confession.

Incensed that she seemed so casual regarding throwing about such hideous facts towards me—the rotten mistake—I barely had my bearings together as I voiced out my anger and frustration. “Are you implying that I was your greatest mistake, then? Is that it, cara mia?”

“No! No, that’s not what I meant … Not exactly,” she nervously stuttered as she gave me a pleading look. “I’m sorry. This isn’t how I pictured how I’d have my first baby, but I feel as though … I feel that this baby will mean something to you, especially given the situation you’re in.”

It did, and of course she knew that. I was Italian through and through, and we lived for our families, our children. Since she had been living here in the very same country, getting to know the culture, she knew how much this information weighed on me.

“What do you hope to gain with this charade? More money perhaps?” I fished. “How much do you need? I can write you a check now if you like.”

Her slap came out of nowhere, igniting the fire within me, stroking it to surface. It burned my skin, cementing the loathing and hatred I had kept in check as it boiled and seeped out of me, slowly, gradually.

Her audacity rendered me stupefied, leaving a mixture of shock and unchecked temper. Sending her a death stare, I gritted my teeth as I caught the fire that lit her eyes aglow.

“I have been more than patient with you. I set my pride aside thinking that this—our baby—could really help you. I used to know you, Luca. What happened to that man who used to be happy, carefree, and so full of life? What the hell happened to the man I once adored?”

“You.” I grunted, hating and loving her all at the same God-bloody-forsaken time. “Youbloody well happened. Your selfishness robbed me of the life I reveled in. You drained me of all the beautiful things, all the happiness. Your selfishness destroyed me!”

The air between us crackled. Openly admitting I was destroyed somehow freed some of the heaviness in my heart. I knew nothing could heal it or piece it back together, though. I was broken forever.

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