“I thought you were on the pill.”
She blinked at the ferocity in his tone. The bite.
“No, you didn’t. You used condoms after the first night. Why would you do that if you thought I was on the pill?” He stared at her, and the truth of that rolled over her. For a moment, she couldn’t breathe through it. Then she could, and it hurt. It more than hurt. Another foundation turned to dust in an instant. “Oh.”
“Tell me,” he said in that vicious, cruel way she hadn’t heard in almost a month now, so long she’d forgotten how awful it was, how deeply it clawed into her, “what possible reason you could have for sleeping with a man without protection?”
“You did the same thing.” But her tongue felt too thick and her head buzzed and she’d known this would happen. Maybe not this. Maybe not a pregnancy. But that look on his face. She’d always known she’d see that again. She hadn’t understood, until now, how very much she’d wanted to be wrong. “You were right there with me.”
“I thought you were on the pill.”
She felt helpless. Terrified. Sick. “Why?”
He swore again, not in Italian this time, and she flinched. “What kind of question is that? Because you were before.”
“That was different.” She was too shaken to think about what she was saying, so she told him the truth without any varnishing. “My mother was terrified I’d end up pregnant at sixteen and forced to raise the baby, like she was with me, so she had me on the pill from the moment I hit puberty.”
“And you stopped?” He sounded furious and disbelieving, and Paige didn’t understand. How could he think she’d planned this? How could she have, even if she’d wanted to? You knew he didn’t use anything that first night. Why didn’t you say something? But she knew. She hadn’t wanted him to stop. She’d wanted him more than anything. “Why the hell would you do something like that?”
“I told you.”
Paige was whispering, and she’d backed up so her spine was against the far side of the open doorway as if the house might keep her from collapsing to the floor, but Giancarlo hadn’t moved at all. He didn’t have to move. His black fury took up all the air. It blocked out the sun.
This is what you deserve, her mother’s voice said in her head, filled with a sick glee. This is what happens to little whores like you, Nicola. You end up like me.
“You’re the only man I’ve slept with the past ten years,” she told him, bald and unflinching. He let out a sound she couldn’t interpret and so she kept going, because she was certain she could explain this to him so he would understand. He had to understand. They were going to be parents whether he liked it or not. “You’re the only man I’ve ever slept with, Giancarlo.”
“Do not try to sell me that nonsense, not now,” he barked at her, as if the words were welling up from somewhere deep inside of him. “I didn’t believe the story that you were a virgin then, not even when I thought I could trust you. I’ll hand it to you, though. You really do remember all the tortured details of the lies you spin.”
“What are you talking about?” Paige shook her head, trying to keep her panic at bay, trying to keep the tears from her voice, and not really succeeding at either. “Who lies about being a virgin at twenty?”
“I can’t believe I fell for this twice,” he spat, his gaze a molten fury of dark gold, his mouth grim. “I can’t believe I walked straight into this. Let me guess. You’ve never given motherhood a moment’s thought, but today, as you gazed upon the test that confirmed your pregnancy, something stirred within you that you’d never felt before.” His laugh felt like acid. “Is that about right?”