That life would have lacked Mateo, though. That life wouldn’t have made me happy.
I don’t think Mateo will ever by the type of father to teach him how to play catch, but he’ll teach him plenty of other things. He’ll be a wonderful father, biology be damned. I know he will.
This time when we make it back to the privacy of the Escalade, Adrian regards both of us, then asks, “A boy, or won’t know until the next one?”
“A boy,” Mateo states, evenly.
“Look on the bright side,” I offer. “He and Roman will be so close together, this baby can have all his old clothes.”
Mateo rolls his eyes. “Yes, I was incredibly concerned about that.”
“Plus, ready-made best friends. You and Adrian are just a few months apart, and look at you two.”
“Oh yeah, two peas in a pod,” Adrian remarks, sarcastically.
I roll my eyes. “Whatever, you guys love each other. It’s going to be fine. You’re worried over nothing. It doesn’t matter that they’re both boys.”
“Of course not,” Adrian agrees, though I lack his sincerity when he adds, “Mateo’s son and Vince’s son growing up together…What could possibly go wrong?”
Chapter Twelve
Meg
“I’m not going to kill you because I’d fucking miss you too much…”
I sigh heavily, rubbing my burning eyeballs. Sleep is an elusive bastard tonight.
I miss Mateo.
Not the one I get now, not the one who hates me, but the one who didn’t. I don’t want to be responsible for the removal of that Mateo from the world.
I consider getting up to grab my phone again, but there’s no point. I can look at and trace the numbers until the screen wears out—I’m not going to dial them. I won’t get a hold of the Mateo I want to talk to, even if I could convince myself to call. He doesn’t exist anymore. I killed him the moment I sent Mia to the bakery without protection, knowing full-well what lay in store in for her.
Ugh, what a shitty night.
Today was my baby doctor appointment. I had no idea if Mateo would be there or not—he didn’t even show up to the last one, he made Adrian do it.
He was there this time, but he didn’t speak to me once. He spoke around me, about me, but never to me. It was the worst. I tell myself it should make it easier to betray him, but it doesn’t. I still feel the way I feel about the bastard, even if he hates me.
Pregnancy is the worst. I can’t wait for it to be over so I can never do it again. It messes with my hormones and my emotions. I’m out of whack when I’m pregnant. I didn’t like pregnancy with Lily, but Rodney was there, sucking the enjoyment out of everything with his bullshit. I wasn’t overwhelmingly thrilled when I was pregnant with Rosalie, but Mateo threw sister wives at me, so it wasn’t a great time to be an emotional funhouse. Roman should have been the one pregnancy I endured without all the bumps in the road, but I had to go and help Vince steal Mia from Mateo.
So many poor decisions.
Now I get to put the icing on the cake and keep my mouth shut instead of helping when the stakes are even higher—it’s not just Mia who might be killed this time, it’s Mateo, and there’s no might. He isn’t giving up his crown to retire; they’re going to kill him so they can take what he has.
Dante wants his power. Rafe wants his woman.
It’s a fucking disaster.
So is trying to sleep when you’re nine months pregnant and in a fucking dungeon.
There’s a twinge of discomfort in my pelvis and I shift, trying to relieve it. There’s only more discomfort to be found here. Steeped in frustration, I stare up into the darkness above me and try to clear my mind. I need to stop thinking of all this shit. I need to find some peace. I’m going crazy down here.
It will all be over soon enough.
I close my eyes and try to envision peace. What does it look like now? If I could be anywhere, anytime, where would I put myself?
A dark red wall flashes to mind—a memory. My old kitchen. The cheap cabinets, the peeling countertop, the well-worn hand towels hanging from the bar of the not-quite-clean stove I never had the extra time to clean. The round table before me is empty but for the glass of wine in front of me. Lily is asleep upstairs, the house is quiet, I’m alone.
Peace.
Fleeting peace.
Because then my husband’s demons popped up on my doorstep and ripped my life off track. Another untenable situation that I could’ve maybe handled better.
I wonder what would have happened if I had told Mateo the truth. If I knew him then, like I know him now. Instead of bluffing my way through the date, instead of carrying the weight of Antonio’s bullshit, instead of letting it go so far… what if I had just told him? What if I had been able to surprise him?