Page 39 of DeLucas After Dark

“Tácito, you’re trying my patience. What other baby are you talking about?”

“Other baby?” Sloane’s groggy voice pipes into the conversation. “Who’s having another baby?”

Panic crawls up my throat. I’ve been protecting them from this truth for years, but Valentino’s insistence will only spur Sloane’s curiosity. “Don’t make me say it. Let’s pretend you misheard me and move on.”

“Wait, what other baby?” Sloane is more alert, sitting up and glancing between me and Valentino.

“That’s what I’m trying to establish. I’m waiting, Tácito.”

Seeing my distress, Sloane says, “You’re bullying him. We don’t do that to each other.”

“Don’t, principessa. You passed out and he went berserk, talking all kinds of shit I can’t make sense of. Because he’s keeping something from us. And if I had to bet, I’d say it’s the reason he was overworking himself and withdrawing.”

“Valentino, please. You don’t know what you’re asking of me.”

“I’m sorry, but I can’t back down from this. Not when it affects you this way. The doctor said if they hadn’t sedated when they did, you could have permanently damaged your hand. Are you telling me the secret is more important than communicating with us? Than your livelihood?”

I look from Valentino to Sloane, frantically finding and discarding excuses to give them, but the concern shadowing Sloane’s eyes breaks me. Unable to look them in the eye any longer, I stare at my bandaged hand. “I only wanted to protect you. The truth nearly destroyed me, and I’m still fighting to deal with it every day. How can you ask me to inflict that kind of pain on you?”

A tight grip on my nape pulls my head up until I see the blue fire in Valentino’s eyes. “We share everything, asshole. The joys, the quiet moments, the burdens, and especially the sorrows. After all this time, how can you not remember where we came from? What we endured? We survived through the years because of each other. Why would you think that would change now?”

“Because I wasn’t able to save our baby!” I raise my hands, palm up to him, silently begging him to end my misery. “I’m the surgeon who saves everyone when they’re hurt, but I couldn’t stop Sloane’s bleeding. All my knowledge and skills meant nothing. She was so early in the pregnancy and…”

Valentino releases my neck, stumbling back until he falls on the bed, his golden complexion losing color. “You kept this from me? Fromus?”

“To protect you from what you’re feeling now, and so you wouldn’t blame yourself for what Giulio did.”

“Stop saying you were protecting us! I should shoulder the responsibility, too. The way we couldn’t keep our hands off each other, I should have expected her to get pregnant.” He pounds his chest as if the self-inflicted pain can dull the emotional one I dealt. “And because you kept things to yourself, do you realize I could have put her in more danger with the decisions I made for our family? Do you? For one, I would never have agreed to coming on this trip if I knew she had a miscarriage.”

“Valentino…”

“No, Tácito. We’re closer than brothers. So what if I get hurt or blame myself? You’re supposed to be there to share my burden the way I’m there for you. How am I supposed to trust you won’t hold something this big from us again?”

Seeing hurt and betrayal ripping Valentino apart, I turn to Sloane for… I don’t know. Understanding… some way to make what I did okay?

Silent tears drip from her eyes. “You’re both wrong, you know?” Her voice is low with a desolate quality I’ve never heard come from her. She rubs her swollen belly. “If anyone is to blame, it’s me. My job is to nurture and protect the life inside me, but I didn’t even know… Then I forced you to take me to the ambush.” A sob interrupts her and she crumples into a ball.

As one, Valentino and I rush to her bedside. The needles and tubes are no longer an obstacle in my need to reassure her.

“You were not at fault,” Valentino fiercely says as he cages her face between his hands. “Repeat what I say, ‘I’m not at fault.’”

“But—”

“There are no buts.” I bring her hand to my lips and kiss her knuckles. “Say the words.”

She grabs one of Valentino’s hands and and my uninjured one. “Only if you say them with me. You can’t absolve me when you harbor the same feelings I do.”

Valentino and I share a look. The same doubt and pain racking my insides reflect back at me in his blue orbs.

“I mean it,” Sloane pleads.

“I can only do that if we promise there will be no more secrets.”

Under their expectant gaze, I reassess everything. Making this promise means revealing another truth I’ve held onto. Already, the burden from keeping the fate of our first child secret has eased with sharing the news. Although my grief is not something that will disappear, at least now I can speak about it openly with my family.

I nod. “No more secrets.”

Valentino and Sloane return my gesture and as one we repeat the words, “I’m not at fault.” We say them again and again until our voices lose the fainthearted notes.

---