Total pages in book: 35
Estimated words: 33290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33290 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 166(@200wpm)___ 133(@250wpm)___ 111(@300wpm)
“You weren’t serious about the marriage thing,” she said. It wasn’t a question.
I was quiet for a long moment, listening to the creak of the swing chains and the distant sound of traffic on Main Street. “What if I was?”
“Colby . . .”
“I know it sounds insane. But think about it practically. We already act like a family half the time. Luca loves you. You love him. It wouldn’t be that different from what we’re doing now.”
“Except for the part where we’d be lying to everyone.”
“Would we be?” I turned to face her, searching her expression in the dim porch light. “You’re already the most important woman in Luca’s life. You’re already the person I turn to when everything falls apart. You’re already—”
“Stop.” She held up a hand. “Just stop. This isn’t fair, Colby. You’re asking me to turn my entire life upside down because your ex-wife is being vindictive.”
“I’m asking you to help me protect my son.”
The words came out sharper than I’d intended, and I saw her flinch. Immediately, I regretted the tone, but I couldn’t take it back. The desperation was bleeding through, raw and ugly.
Gianna stood and walked to the porch railing, her back to me. “What happens when the custody case is over? What happens when you don’t need a fake wife anymore?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. “We’d figure it out.”
“And if you meet someone? If you want to get married for real?”
The question hit me like a punch to the gut. The truth was, I couldn’t imagine wanting anyone but her. But I couldn’t say that. Not now, not when I was already asking too much.
“That’s not something I’m worried about right now.”
She laughed, but there was no humor in it. “Of course it’s not. Because this isn’t about love, is it? This is about convenience. About solving a problem.”
“That’s not—”
“It is.” She turned back to face me, and I saw tears glittering in her eyes. “You’re asking me to pretend to be your wife so you can win a custody battle. What happens to me in all of this, Colby? What happens to my heart when I have to pretend to love you and then go back to being just friends?”
Her words hit me like a physical blow. I’d been so focused on my own panic, my own desperation to keep Luca, that I hadn’t considered what this would cost her. Gianna, who’d been hurt before. Gianna, who guarded her heart like a fortress because she’d learned early that people left.
I stood and crossed to her, reaching for her hands. She let me take them, but she didn’t look at me.
“I’m sorry,” I said quietly. “You’re right. I wasn’t thinking about what I was asking you to sacrifice.”
“I know you’re scared,” she whispered. “I know you’re desperate. But I can’t be your temporary wife, Colby. I can’t pretend to be in love with you when . . .”
She trailed off, and my heart stopped. “When what?”
She pulled her hands free and stepped back. “When it would hurt too much to pretend.”
Before I could process what she’d said, before I could ask what she meant, she was walking toward her car. I followed her down the porch steps, my mind reeling.
“Gianna, wait.”
She paused with her hand on the car door. “Call your lawyer tomorrow. Fight this the right way. You’re a good father, Colby. Any judge will see that.”
“And if they don’t? If I lose him?”
She looked at me for a long moment, something unreadable flickering across her face. “I need to think about this, Colby. This isn’t something you just decide on a Tuesday night.”
“I know. I’m sorry for springing it on you like this.”
“Call your lawyer tomorrow either way,” she said, getting into her car. “You need to know what you’re really up against.”
I watched her drive away, then walked back into my house. The silence felt heavier now, pressing down on my shoulders like a weight I couldn’t shake. I made my way to the living room and sank onto the couch, my eyes drawn to the family photos scattered across the side table.
There was one from last Christmas: Luca sitting on my lap, both of us grinning at the camera while Gianna made faces in the background to make him laugh. We looked like a family. We looked complete.
I picked up the frame, running my thumb along the edge. Luca’s gap-toothed smile stared back at me, so trusting, so innocent. He had no idea his world might be about to change forever. No idea that his mother wanted to take him away from everything he’d ever known.
My throat tightened. I couldn’t let that happen. I wouldn’t let Lyla destroy what we’d built here, this imperfect but loving home where Luca felt safe and wanted.
I have to fight for him, I thought, my grip tightening on the picture frame. For us.