Page 27 of Unleashed
“Maybe if you pull out the claws he has in you, you’ll find a piece of yourself that can love me.”
“And you’ll be happy with just a piece of me?”
“I will take the smallest morsel of you and love it like it’s everything.”
Tears prickle, and something I can’t name tightens around my throat. “I love you too much to only give you a piece, Anthony. You deserve a woman who can give you all of her, someone who can love you in a way that will never have you questioning just how much.” I swipe at my tears. “But that’s not me. And I wish it were.”
He scoffs. “Don’t patronize me.”
“I’m not. I wish I could love you the same way because that would make all this a hell of a lot easier. You’re a good man.”
“Then give me a chance. Just the tiniest speck, and I promise I’ll take it and turn it into something beautiful. Not something as distorted and ugly like he did.”
“I’m sorry, Anthony,” I start softly, the ache of breaking my best friend’s heart spreading wide and fast. “But I can’t give you what belongs to someone else.”
Instantly, his demeanor shifts, a layer sliding into place, like armor, as the raw emotion shutters behind his eyes, replaced by something steadier, harder.
His gaze drops to my stomach—not with wonder or love, but with the quiet weight of inevitability, like he’s staring at the thing that will ruin me.
When his eyes lift back to mine, I catch the doubt there. Like he’s certain I don’t understand. As if I don’t already know everything changed the moment I was rushed into this hospital. “You’re pregnant, Everly. And you might not realize it yet, but you need someone who can take care of you.”
“I’m not your responsibility.”
“No. You’re not. Yet here I am.” He pulls his lips into a straight line like he’s biting back the words but fails. “Where is he, huh? Where is your husband?” he sneers. “Why is the father of your baby not here? He hasn’t even fucking called. Not once.”
There’s a cold rush of pain sweeping over me, and I suck in a breath. “That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” His eyebrows arch, and his mouth gives a bitter twist. “And what about this is fair to you?”
“I don’t?—”
“Just…” His jaw clenches, shoulders tight, chest rising like he’s holding something back. He swallows it down, forcing calm into his voice. “You need to rest…and I need to get some air. I’m going to see if I can get you some real food around here.”
Anthony’s almost halfway to the door when I say, “I should tell him.”
He stills, tense, doesn’t turn to face me. “You don’t sound sure.”
“I’m not,” I say quietly. “I’m not sure about anything right now.”
“Well, you don’t have to decide today. You don’t have to decide tomorrow. You can take your time with this.”
Both my palms flatten on my stomach. “It’s not something I can hide forever.”
“True. But there’s still time.”
“And what, exactly, do I need time for? This is his baby. Time won’t change that.”
“And in that lies the problem.” Finally, he turns to look at me with worry. “You’re carrying a Del Rossa inside you, Everly. And you need time to understand what that means.”
There’s a pause. A breath. A blink. And I feel it—the faint hesitation bleeding through me like invisible ink only I can read. “I should tell Isaia. He’s the father.” But something in me doesn’t move those words with conviction. It clenches instead.
“You have no idea what this means, do you? The Del Rossa family keeps their own. Their blood. Their women. Their children.”
“You say that like it’s wrong.”
“It’s control,” he bites out. “It’s not about doing the right thing.”
I pull my lips between my teeth, contemplating his words as they sink through my foggy mind. Control. I've been under the shadow of control my entire life, haven't I? A marionette dancing on strings held by hands that were never mine.
