“I hadn’t thought about it,” I said, surprised by the offer. “Sure, if you want to.”
“Are you nervous to tell them?”
“No. I mean, maybe. A little.” I closed my eyes. “Yes.”
She laughed softly—another surprise. “I’ll go with you.”
“Thanks.” I opened my eyes, my body warming with gratitude and affection. “I think it will be good coming from both of us.”
“What time do you want to go?”
“I was thinking this afternoon. I’m meeting Felicity here shortly to go over deliveries and inventory, so maybe around one?”
“Okay.” She looked down at the scone in her hands. “I haven’t told my mom and dad yet. Will your parents keep it to themselves until I work up my nerve?”
“I’m sure they will.” I stared at the antique tabletop, running my thumb over a nick in the wood. “Ellie, I was awake all night.”
“Me too.”
I looked up at her. “Is it because you didn’t mean what you said about me going to California? Because I can try to get out of the contract.”
She shook her head. “No. I meant what I said. I think the ten weeks apart will be a good chance for us both to process this. And figure out what life will look like moving forward.”
“But—”
“Gianni. Can you look me in the eye right now, and honestly tell me you don’t want to do the show?”
“No,” I conceded.
“That’s what I thought.”
“You should come with me.” The words came out of nowhere.
Ellie looked alarmed. “What? No.”
“Why not? We could get a—”
“Why on earth would I come with you?”
“Because you’re pregnant. And I . . . feel bad leaving.”
It took her a minute to answer, but when she did, her voice was firm. “I’m not going with you, Gianni. My job is here. My family is here. My life is here.” Her eyes filled with tears. “It’s better that way. You’ll see.”
“Okay,” I said quickly, hating that I’d made her cry. “If that’s what you want, I’ll go alone. But I’ll come back when the show is done.”
“Fine,” she said, closing up the bag. “By then it will be fine.”
Her choice of words confused me. “What will be fine?”
“Never mind.” She stood up. “I’ll text you when I’m ready to go.”
I watched her hurry out of the kitchen, feeling like I’d failed her.
The water continued to swirl over my head.
EIGHTEEN
ELLIE
I went straight to Winnie’s office and shut the door behind me. The moment she looked up from her desk, I burst into tears.
“Oh, honey,” she said, coming over and giving me a hug. “What is it?”
“I’m pregnant!” I wailed.
She laughed a little, rubbing my back. “I know, babe. I know.”
“I told Gianni last night.”
“Oh. I saw him this morning, but he didn’t say anything. He did seem a little distracted though. How did it go?”
“It was rough.” I went for the box of tissues on her desk. “We argued about whose fault it was.”
“Of course you did.”
“I got angry because he kept saying ‘This can’t be right.’ Like he wasn’t listening or didn’t believe me.” I blew my nose. “So I picked a fight. I threw things at him.”
“Did it make you feel better?”
“No. It just reminded me how we bring out the worst in each other.”
Winnie sat on the edge of her desk. “So then what?”
“We had sex.”
Her jaw dropped. “You did what?”
“You heard me. We had hot, angry sex on the kitchen counter.” I closed my eyes. “I’m so stupid. I thought it would get him out of my system, give me closure or something.”
“Did it?”
“No! It made everything worse!”
Winnie dropped into her chair. “I’ve got whiplash trying to keep up here. So are you . . . together? Friends? Enemies?”
“I don’t know what we are. Not together. Not enemies. Maybe friends.” I shrugged. “He’s trying to be nice. He proposed.”
Her eyes popped. “Wait. He proposed?”
“No, actually, he didn’t. He just said something like, ‘Should we get married?’ And the look on his face told me exactly how he felt about that possibility—sick to his stomach.”