Page 53 of The Italian's Pregnant Enemy (A Diamond in the Rough)

“I’m pregnant.” She announced this, as if she was announcing that she was taking a nice trip down to Saks Fifth Avenue.

“Pregnant,” her father said. He pulled away from her and looked to Dario, and then back at Lyssia. Here it was. Now he would rail. Now he would be angry.

“I’m going to be a grandfather,” he said. He moved to Dario then, and clapped him on the shoulders. “You have made me a grandfather,” he said. “My son.”

She looked at Dario’s face, and saw a myriad of emotions there. Unreadable. Unknowable. She felt a similar kaleidoscope in herself, because her dad was more invested right then in Dario than her and it galled, but she also knew Dario needed it, and that mattered. “I cannot tell you how happy this makes me. I never could have dreamed of such wonderful news. Was it being snowed in together?”

“That certainly was a factor,” said Lyssia, her face getting hot.

Dario lifted a brow and gave her a scolding look.

“But there was always something about him,” she said.

Because it was true anyway.

Dario moved, putting his hand on her lower back. “I have always been very fond of Lyssia. And I wanted to be very careful, because she’s younger than me. Because I esteem you so much. Both of you. I never would have wanted to play lightly with her feelings. But I have been quite taken with her for a while. It was only spending uninterrupted time together that allowed us to understand what our connection really is.”

“I don’t need to know the details,” her dad said. But he was smiling. “When is the wedding?”

“The sooner the better. We’ve known each other many years. There’s no reason to delay,” said Dario.

“Well, but we will want to have it in the Hamptons.”

“I was thinking Rome,” said Dario.

Rome? The place where he’d been homeless? Why? But now wasn’t the time to ask.

“Rome,” her father said. “That is a good idea.”

“I know just where. It will overlook the sea. Don’t worry about a thing. I will handle it all. And there will be no reason that the preparations should take more than two weeks. Whatever dress you want can be made, Lyssia,” he said, cutting off her protests.

She blinked, but didn’t say anything.

“Lyssia,” her father said. “I have truly never been prouder.”

Lyssia felt like she had been stabbed. Right through the chest. Because somehow, it was something to do with Dario that made her father the proudest. It wasn’t her job. It wasn’t simply being her. It was incubating Dario’s child.

It is your child too.

Yes. But it didn’t feel like it. Everything felt... She just felt so raw.

She didn’t know what to do about it. Didn’t know how to combat these feelings inside of her.

“Let’s have a drink.”

They did. They ended up staying and having a drink with her father, and then after an hour, Dario said that they had to go. “It will take us an hour to get back to the city,” said Dario. “We should head back.”

“Of course, of course. Keep me posted on the wedding plans.”

“We will.”

“Lyssia,” her father said. “Send me over the proposal for your redesign for the hotels.”

That at least cheered her slightly. “I will.”

“Of course I know you’ll be very busy now. With your baby. You will be a wonderful mother.”

It was perhaps the most definitively encouraging and kind thing he’d ever said.

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