Page 139 of Cruelest Contract
The door to Cecilia’s office is cracked open and she sits at the desk, facing the window while steadily writing in her journal. Her cat is licking its paws on the sofa and pauses to regard me with a stare of suspicion before resuming.
Cecilia sets her pen down and stretches. She hasn’t cut her hair since she arrived here and the thick, wavy mane draped over the back of the chair could compete with any Renaissance art. She’s always so relentlessly beautiful.
Leaning against the wooden doorway frame, I watch as my wife places a hand to her lower back and makes a slightly pained noise that stabs at my heart. I’m about to cross the room, place my hands on her cramped shoulders and offer to give her a back rub when she turns her head and gasps.
“You startled me,” she says. “I thought you were still out riding.”
“We’re finished with storm prep. Now all we can do is wait and see how bad the weather gets.”
She nods and leans heavily on the arms of the chair to lift herself up. I move without thinking, reaching her side in a heartbeat to offer help. She accepts my hand but quickly lets go once she’s steady. Beneath a chunky cream cardigan sweater she wears a pink maternity top over black leggings.
The size of her pregnant belly is startling. I saw it yesterday and the day before that. Yet I’m hit with the uncanny sense that I fell into a time warp or missed a crucial season of a favorite show.
“How are you feeling?” I ask her.
“Bulky,” she says and pats her stomach. “Feeling every bit of that third trimester.”
Again, I have to shake off the weird perception that time is compressing. I’ve watched the calendar fly by and yet I could swear Cecilia just told me she was pregnant last week.
She tucks her hair behind her ears. “I’ve made a list of possible names,” she says. “In case you want to look at it.”
Of course I want to look at the list. A dim wave of guilt hits when I remember she’s asked me more than once to come up with some name suggestions.
“We can knock that out now if you want,” I offer but when her eyes shift away I realize this is the wrong answer. Too offhand.
Over on the sofa, Cecilia’s cat continues to observe us with unblinking green eyes.
“Not now.” Cecilia looks out the window. “My brothers will be here soon.”
I’ve just realized this window overlooks a flat patch of dirt where nothing grows. No replacement has ever been built for the greenhouse that used to stand there. My mother’s greenhouse.
I don’t know where all my powers of persuasion went. All I can do is stand here in stupid silence and stare at some dirt with no fucking clue what to say to my own wife.
Cecilia rubs her arms and turns her head to look at me. “Are you still planning to stick around until after New Year’s?”
“You asked me that yesterday. I said I would.”
“Your schedule tends to be uncertain. Can’t blame me for double checking to see if I fit in anywhere.”
I don’t miss the sarcasm in her attitude.
“Cecilia, you are my wife. I’ll give you anything you want any time you ask. I thought you knew that.”
“Your wife,” she echoes and holds out her left hand, looking at her wedding ring. Slowly, she bends her fingers into a fist and buries her hand in her pocket. “Irrelevant,” she whispers.
“What’s irrelevant?”
Her long lashes flutter and a film of tears briefly floats in her pretty eyes before she forcefully blinks it away and raises her chin. “The Grimaldis, according to you.”
So that’s the issue. Either Gabe or Angelo or both of them must have gone running to their sister to whine that they’re getting shut out.
“We’re not debating this,” I say, scarcely able to recognize the frosty sneer in my own voice. This is a tone I reserve for enemies, not for my wife. “If your brothers have a fucking problem they can take it up with me directly instead of sending you to plead on their behalf.”
She sharpens her pitch to match mine. “I’m hardly on speaking terms with Angelo. And Gabe hasn’t told me a damnthing. He has his problems but he’s not nearly as awful as all of you think he is.”
“Is that right?” I fire back. “And if we had a sister do you think any of us would agree to sacrifice her to save our own fucking necks?”
Cecilia flinches and my remorse is swift. For a few horrible seconds it looks like she’ll lose the battle with her tears.
