Page 86 of The Temptation
Fake marriage or not, I’m keeping this man; he just doesn’t know it yet.
“How are you holding up?”
“I’m okay,” I tell her honestly. “How are you? You’re glowing, Arabella. Motherhood definitely agrees with you. How is my baby niece?”
I want to know the answers to those questions, but I’m also trying to steer the conversation away from me. I’m scared I’ll slip up and say something incriminating if we talk about me or my time here.
“She is my greatest achievement, Lu,” she replies. “I never allowed myself to dream my life would be this … wonderful. I never in a million years thought I’d be this happy.”
“I’m happy you have this life, Bell-Bell … and Dante. You devoted all your younger years to caring for me. You deserve everything you have now.”
“I have the best husband,” she admits. I could argue that point, mine is pretty incredible, but I can’t speak my truth, and I hate that.
My sister and I have always told each other everything, both good and bad. Our father was a narcissistic arsehole who constantly twisted reality to protect himself, lying to cover his tracks and blaming others, especially us, for the damage he caused. We swore we’d never lie to each other.
I’m not exactly lying by not telling her about my nuptials. I’m merely omitting the truth to protect the man I love.
I hope that if and when it all comes to light, she’ll understand why I kept this from her. I know for a fact she’d move mountains to protect her husband. That’s just who she is. She gave up so much when we were kids to keep me safe.
“Look at this face,” Arabella says, turning the screen so I can see. Caterina is lying on the change table, her tiny arms and legs kicking in every direction.
I lean in closer to my phone. “I swear she gets squishier every single day.”
“I know,” my sister laughs. “You should see the little fat rolls on her legs. They’re too much. Her daddy completely melts over them. Doesn’t he, baby girl?” she coos lovingly.
“Oh my God, show me.”
“What do I melt over?” Dante says, coming up behind my sister and wrapping his arms around her. I sigh when he lovingly kisses her cheek.
“Her leg rolls.”
He chuckles. “They’re fuc—fudging adorable.”
“Fudging?” I ask, raising an eyebrow.
Turning his attention to Arabella’s phone, he smiles. “Hey, Luc. Your sister gives me hell if I swear in front of Caterina.”
“As she should,” I say, grinning.
He smirks. “When did you become a traitor?”
I laugh. “Probably around the time I fell in love with that tiny marshmallow you two made.”
Dante grins as he commandeers his wife’s phone, freeing her hands. He peers over her shoulder to get a better look at his daughter.
“Those thighs,” he groans. “She’s like our very own Michelin baby.”
Arabella snorts as they share a look, and I’m again left feeling like I’m on the outside looking in. “She’s growing so fast. I swear she looks different every day.”
There’s a moment of quiet on my end. My chest tightens in that familiar, aching way. The kind you get when you feel like you’re missing out on something significant.
“I swear if you don’t show me those little fat rolls, I’m going to break out of this prison, hijack a car, and come see them for myself.”
Arabella laughs, the sound light and unguarded. “Don’t tempt me. You know I’d open the door and let you in, consequences be damned.”
“Ignore your sister, Lucia,” Dante growls. “You need to stay where you are … where it’s safe. I’ll bring you home soon, I promise.”
A knot forms in my throat. “I know,” I mumble. “It was a joke.”
