Molly padded along beside me as we went up the stairs. I hadn’t seen her much in the past several days. While we’d all been laughing together, she’d worn a healthy flush to her cheeks, but now I noticed she looked a bit pale. “You still under the weather?”
“I’m a little better, I guess.”
“You sound like you’re not too sure about that.” She didn’t offer any sort of response, so I continued. “It’s good to see you up and about, at least.”
Molly rubbed a spot on her arm, seeming agitated. “Luca, I…”
Anna was out cold now, and since we’d reached the top of the stairway I stopped, waiting for Molly to finish. When several long seconds passed and she continued to stare at everything but me, I prompted her. “Luca, I?”
“I’m moving out.”
My breath froze in my lungs at that. She wanted to leave. “You’re leaving us.” Leaving me. But really, what did I expect? I’d rejected her, hurt her. What motivation had I provided her with to stay?
“Not the business, no. Just the mansion. I bought a house down the way. Outside of the estate.”
Bought. Past tense. When had she done this? And more importantly, how had I not known about it?
“Why?”
I shouldn’t have asked. I hadn’t earned the right to. Yet I was dying to hear her answer just the same.
She’d been staring at Anna’s face in repose, but now she lifted her eyes to meet mine. “Because I need to.” Her gaze dropped again to my daughter as she pushed one of her dark curls back from her forehead. “I’ll still run things for you, though. I’ll still be your Queen Molly.” She stood up straighter, as if affecting a regal stance.
I attempted a chuckle, but it didn’t come out sounding all that authentic.
“I will need some time off to get everything set up over there.”
She’d made a request I needed to respond to, but I was having trouble getting my throat to work. After swallowing I managed to say, “Take as long as you need.”
“A couple of weeks should be plenty.” She grasped the arm I’d wrapped around Anna, giving it a slight squeeze. Then she offered me a regretful little grin as she walked away.
26
Molly
“I’m carrying your second child.”
I’d almost said the words aloud to Luca. Almost. But I didn’t. I didn’t because I wasn’t sure of what I was going to do. I wasn’t sure of what I should do.
I’d packed up all my belongings, hopped into the car waiting for me outside—Luca’s doing—and went straight to the nearest pharmacy. I’d bought the over-the-counter stick test and had taken it right there in that public restroom. And I’d received confirmation.
The test had been positive.
The man I loved had impregnated me, but there was this one tiny wrinkle: He didn’t love me back. If we’d been together, this might’ve been a happy and exciting time, but instead, I was alone in this.
All alone.
And I would never be anything but. He’d made his feelings clear. There wouldn’t ever be a romantic relationship between me and Luca.
In that way, this pregnancy didn’t change a thing.
But it would change my world if I let it. If I allowed it to continue to be. Whether or not I would do that remained to be seen.
I stared at the bare, unfurnished living room of my new home and put down my suitcase and the armload of garment bags I’d brought with me. It was clean and just the right size for me. I could still smell the fresh paint. I’d told Luca it was a house, but it was more of a cottage really. Quaint. Cozy. On the small side. And free of painful memories.
This place might not be as lavish or freaking ginormous as the Varasso mansion, but it was all mine.
Last night had been the last night I’d ever spend there. It’d had to be. My sanity wouldn’t allow for anything else.