Page 48 of Velvet Chains

I tried to tell myself that I was doing what was necessary for our safety, that the only way I could help him. However, all those reasons seemed to fade away before the truth, which was that I missed him terribly.

It was worse when I was at work. My coworkers were all curious about Vincenzo and our relationship. It didn't help that most of my articles were about my experience in Italy and our relationship. When I had gone back to the office, I had had to face a barrage of questions. They felt like a knife to my heart, constantly peeling away my happy disguise.

“How did you meet?” This was the most common question of all. For some reason, it didn't matter to them how many times they heard it.

I felt uncomfortable having so much attention on me. It was like I was a celebrity. Beneath the excitement and curiosity, I could sense that envy was a driving force behind their questions. It made me want to let out a bitter laugh. If only they had known the real situation, I didn't think they would have been so envious.

After work, I went to Sarah's place. I was practically living with her now. She was my saving grace. She was my friend and safe place, it was such a solace to have someone I could talk to about things.

“It'll be fine. When it's all over, you'll see him again. We'll go back to Italy together.” She often comforted me. Sarah had promised to go back to visit Elia one day. That was unexpected, but it made me smile.

“What do you want to eat? I'm making a lot of whatever you want. After all, you're eating for two.” She teased me with words that had become familiar to me. They made me want to roll my eyes at her. She was the only person who knew about my pregnancy. I wanted to keep it a secret for as long as possible.

I even went to a clinic far from my home for my prenatal checkup just to make sure no one I knew saw me.

I wasn't showing yet, but just in case our separation dragged on for long, I had bought some light flowy clothes that would hide my baby bump.

No matter how hard I tried to make things seem normal, they weren't. My pregnancy was the biggest indicator of that.

Sarah served the meal and we ate in silence. I could see that she had something on her mind because she kept looking up as if she was hesitating to say something.

“Sarah, you're staring a hole into my forehead. What's the matter?” I asked. Her head shot up at my words and I watched the emotions play out on her face. She looked conflicted and worried.

“It's nothing. I just… don't take this the wrong way, but are you sure you want to keep the baby?” She finally spoke.

I fell silent at her words. The thought of getting rid of my baby put a lump in my throat and made it hard for me to swallow.

I was aware that the best way remove myself from that experience in Sicily and return to normalcy would be to get rid of the child. But I couldn't do it.

At night, when I missed Vincenzo, I found myself touching my still-flat belly and talking to my unborn baby. I talked to my baby about everything, I talked about my hopes and dreams and how I would love it and Vincenzo.

I found that I had grown attached to the baby. I felt a bond between us already, and I knew that there was nothing I wouldn't do for them.

“I can't give up this baby, Sarah. No matter how hard life gets, I already love it. Also, having this child means that a part of Vincenzo will always be with me.” I said, admitting not just my love for my baby. My love for Vincenzo and my love for my baby were intertwined, the baby was my link, my solid proof that what we had was real.

Sarah paused as she digested what I said to her, before nodding. She simply accepted what I said with no judgment or extra input.

“I just want to make sure you understand how big of a decision this is. I think you do. So I'm happy for you, and I'm here for you.” she said, as she reached across the table to squeeze my hand.

I found myself smiling, with the support of my friend, it felt like I could do anything.

The next day, I went to work with a smile on my face. Not even my coworkers asking about Vincenzo was enough to sour my mood. I had an appointment at my clinic for a prenatal checkup after work, and I was excited to hear what they would say.

The day passed in a blur and soon, I found myself waiting outside my office for a cab.

As I settled into the worn leather seat of the cab, I couldn't help but feel a sense of worry wash over me. LA traffic was a nightmare today, and I was afraid I would be late to my appointment.

The taxi merged onto the 405, and I closed my eyes, letting the hum of the engine lull me into a state of relaxation. My day had been exhausting and I was taking any opportunity I could to rest.

Suddenly, a deafening crash shattered the calm. The cab lurched violently to the side, throwing me against the door.

Dazed, I opened her eyes to find that the world was upside down. The cab’s windows were shattered, glass shards scattered everywhere. I could see that the cab had turned over. We were hanging precariously, only held to our seats by the seat belt.

It was pushing on my belly. I panicked, scrabbling to undo it.

“Oh my God! Someone call an ambulance!” The driver's panicked voice pierced the air. I wanted to yell too, but I was suddenly weak.

With my last burst of strength, I undid the seat belt and felt myself crash to the ground, now the roof of the cab. I heaved a sigh of relief, at least I was free of the seat belt. Blood rushed to my head in a fast whoosh, making me feel dizzy.

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