Sincerely, Your Inconvenient Wife (The Harder They Fall, #2)(97)

“I love him very much,” I rasped. “But I don’t know how to navigate this. How do I move past these feelings I’ve had for so long?”

“You have to talk to each other.” She curled her arm around my shoulders. “He was wrong for forcing your hand and then being cruel to you when you couldn’t say what he wanted you to say. But there’s no way around this. You have to work through it. And that will only happen if you both are willing.”

I leaned my head against hers. “I don’t know if he’s willing.”

“You won’t know until you face him, babe. Running will only get you so far.”

I wasn’t ready to give up on Luca.

But I also wasn’t ready to face him either. Not when I still didn’t know if I was capable of being what he wanted me to be.

If he even wanted me at all.





Chapter Fortytwo





Luca





It seemed impossible for there to be anything wrong in the world when I held my niece in my arms.

I was the second one to hold her. Clara hadn’t wanted to give her up, which I understood. I tried my best to play the part Miller would have, taking pictures of every moment and making sure Clara was as comfortable as possible.

Time was nothing but an abstract theory in the hospital. I dozed every once in a while and ate the leftovers from Clara’s tray. Our parents hovered at first, but our father needed to rest for his own health, so I was the one who stayed overnight with her.

While Clara napped, my niece squirmed in her bassinet, so I took her out and cradled her against my chest. Antonella Rossi—Nellie—made this crooked world straight again. I’d loved her before we’d even met, but I had never experienced anything like looking into her tiny, round face and feeling like I was falling and sinking at the same time.

“I’ll make it right for you,” I whispered. “When you need me, I’ll always be there, Nellie baby. Uncle Luca loves you.”

Her lips puckered, and long lashes brushed her cheeks. That was enough of a reaction for me. Anything she did was fucking amazing.



By day three, my sister and mother kicked me out. According to them, I was a walking zombie. And maybe I was. But the fact was, I preferred camping out in the hospital to facing the unknown outside of it.

Elliot was waiting for me out front. As much as I didn’t want to be dependent on anyone, I hadn’t slept in days, and I had no business driving.

“How is the baby?” he asked once I was buckled.

“She’s healthy. Eating like a champ.” I sighed, scrubbing a hand over my face. “I hate that she was born in the midst of a shit show.”

“Clara will rally.”

I nodded. My sister was more than capable of handling motherhood. This wasn’t her plan, and her heart was broken, but she was determined. When Clara was determined, whatever she wanted to make happen, she did. That was who she was.

“She’s already rallying.”

His thumbs tapped on the wheel as he drove through the quiet streets of Denver. It was early. Not many people were out yet. The more distance we put between us and the hospital, the more my mental fog lifted. It was like emerging from a days’-long fugue state and clarity was returning little by little.

“I saw Saoirse leaving the hospital.”

I whipped my head in his direction. “When?”

“The first night. She asked me to be there for you since you didn’t want her there.”

This sinking sensation was nothing like the one I’d had when holding Nellie. This was being pulled under by quicksand, compressing my chest until I couldn’t breathe. I’d pushed everything but Clara and the baby from my mind in the haze of all that had been going on, and it all came slamming back.

“I can’t talk about that right now.”

Normally, that would be all I needed to say to get Elliot to back off, but not this time. He stayed silent for all of a minute.

“I’ve known Saoirse for a long time now, and I have never seen her like that. She looked like a kicked dog. And I think you did the kicking.”

The edge in his tone had me sitting up straight. Something about it prickled my senses, alerting me.

“We had a disagreement.”

He huffed. “Is that what you call telling your wife she can’t be at the hospital?” He glanced at me through narrowed eyes. “I’ve known you a long time too, and I never thought you had it in you to be cruel.”

“Cruel? You have no idea what happened between us.”

“Did she do something worth treating her like garbage? Is that what you’re telling me?”

I opened my mouth to say yes, but nothing came out. The raw truth was Saoirse hadn’t done anything wrong. It was all on me. I’d been the one to demand things of her I had no right to. I lost my temper and yelled. I spoke to her like she was nothing when she was exactly the opposite.

“No. She didn’t,” I admitted, and it was like chewing glass. It wasn’t her fault she didn’t want the same things I did. She’d been honest from the beginning. I was the one who’d deviated from the arrangement.

“I don’t care what you do. Find a way to fix it.”

The same awareness prickled. I recognized it now. Territorialism. “Why are you so concerned about my wife? Are you lining up to take my place or something?”