Dammit.
When I was able to finally quit blubbering, I went to the tiny bathroom to freshen up. I needed to go back to my room at the mansion to get some of my things. I didn’t have much, but I wanted it to go with me to my house. The house I’d have all to myself. Away from Luca.
As soon as I thought the words, more tears fell.
God, what the hell was wrong with me? I felt like a total basket case. I had to get myself together in the next ten minutes because we were going to be back at the airport soon. I took the opportunity while in the restroom to check my panties. I should be starting anytime now. I’d felt all the signs for days. I went ahead and put on a pad in preparation.
When I stepped on the tarmac this time, I felt a bit more normal. I must’ve been emotional because I’d been so sick. I’d actually been remarkably healthy growing up, despite not having the best circumstances. I could only remember being ill a handful of times. So maybe that’s why I was having such a strong reaction. I wasn’t used to feeling this bad.
Once outside the airport, I stood waiting for a taxi. The familiar exhaust fumes filled the air around me, and I coughed. The odor seemed so much more pungent than usual. But then, maybe this cab just had a lot more mileage or something.
It was just after lunch when I arrived back at home, and I decided to lay down for a minute. I felt so weary. I didn’t tend to have issues with jetlag, but the combination of being sick and getting upset had really taken it out of me.
I laid on my stomach, but since my breasts still felt so sore, switched over to my back. I’d rest for about an hour and then get back to work. Thoroughly drained, I didn’t even bother to change out of my dress suit before closing my eyes.
When I woke, the sun was beginning to peek over the horizon. I glanced at my watch. It was six in the morning. Wait. I’d slept all that time? What had that been? I counted the hours in my head… Eighteen hours?
Pure insanity!
I jumped out of bed and into the shower, feeling the first surge of energy I’d had in days. I also felt the first pangs of hunger I’d had in days. Still no period, though, and that was starting to make me worry. I’d never gone this long from the onset of my symptoms without things taking their natural course.
It was about an hour before Rosa would bustle around the kitchen, so I went down to make some oatmeal. I made a big bowl of the stuff, feeling more like myself as I refilled my stomach. Still, as I finished my breakfast, I thought about the past few days. How ill I’d been. How worn out. How much I’d slept. How I’d cried. I pressed a hand to my chest… Ouch. How my breasts were still sore. How I hadn’t started my cycle.
Then, I thought about the last time Luca and I had been together. It’d been about two and half or three weeks ago now.
I specifically remembered using protection that first time on his sofa. He’d had some condoms in his top drawer. But what about in the gym? Where had the condoms been then?
We must’ve used one.
I couldn’t remember using one, though. I’d come fresh from my bath and surprised him. He’d been working out at the punching bag. He hadn’t been expecting me. I’d gotten pissy with Luca and nearly slapped him. And then, I’d essentially seduced the man. Had my wild, wicked way with him. It’d been hot and steamy and glorious.
And intense as all hell.
As the images flew through my mind, though, I realized something.
It’d also been completely unprotected.
Shit!
25
Luca
I woke to the sound of Anna screaming and leaped off the sofa bed as if I’d been electrocuted. I ran to her crib, freaking the fuck out. I’d never heard her make that sound in her life.
She continued to scream and sob, and I had no idea what was wrong. I checked every inch of her to make sure nothing was hurting her physically. I didn’t see a damn thing.
“What is it, sweetness?” I asked her like an idiot. Christ. It’s not like she could articulate anything that made sense at sixteen-months-old.
I held her, bounced with her as I paced back and forth, and changed her though she wasn’t even wet, all to no avail. Then, I tried feeding her, burping her and showing her a toy, but nothing helped. Nothing.
Still crying out at the top her lungs, I rushed with her down the hallway to the stairs, making my way toward Greta’s room.
“What’s wrong?”
I heard Molly’s voice, but I didn’t pause as I continued going for help. “I don’t know.”
Blinking more awake and tying her robe closed, she hurried behind me. When I reached Greta’s room, Anna’s screaming stopped, and I looked at her to make sure she was still breathing. Our nanny appeared at her threshold.