I helped Aria out of the car and took her hand. She stiffened her spine, holding her head high. This was the public. Aria knew what was expected of both of us. We could always be followed by paparazzi. Usually my contacts checked in with me before photos got published, but I preferred not to have compromising photos in the first place. The Dante/Aria fiasco had been bad enough, and still made my blood boil.
“I hope Dr. Brightley has time for us,” Aria said as I followed her toward a building with several doctors for all kind of medical problems. That way at least people wouldn’t suspect Aria was pregnant. I didn’t want word to get out so soon, and if possible never. We were at war and children were too vulnerable. It was bad enough that Dante knew about the pregnancy, but I needed to keep it a secret from our other enemies, and that meant we would have to make sure there was never a press photo of Aria pregnant or with our child. I’d move heaven and earth to guarantee their safety.
When we stepped into the reception area of the practice, the eyes of the receptionist snapped toward us, widening when she took me in. Of course she knew me. I darted a look toward the closed door of the waiting room to our right. I wasn’t keen on other patients seeing us here and spreading rumors. We stepped toward the reception.
“Mrs. Vitiello, we didn’t expect you today,” the receptionist piped up.
“I reckon that won’t be a problem,” I said with a closed-lipped smile that always had the same effect on people. Aria’s cheeks turned red.
The receptionist blinked up at me, then quickly looked away, paling. “Uhh, of course. I’ll just have to check with Dr. Brightley first. We have quite a few patients in the waiting room. Perhaps you can sit down until I call you.”
“No,” I said. “You certainly understand that I don’t want to draw attention to my wife and me. I trust you’ll honor our wish for secrecy.” The smile got wider but my eyes narrowed.
She nodded and waved at another woman who was dressed in a bluish nurse’s uniform. “Can you please take Mr. and Mrs. Vitiello to a treatment room?”
After one glance at me, the nurse scurried off and opened a door for us. We stepped through and she closed the door behind us, giving us privacy. Aria turned to me with an exasperated expression. “Luca, did you have to be so…” She waved a hand in my direction as if that said it all.
“So?” I echoed.
“So dominant,” she finished before she sank down on one of the two chairs in front of a white desk. The other furniture in the room was the chair that no man ever wanted to see close up with its strange metallic leg holders, and a pallet with an ultrasound machine beside it.
I cocked an eyebrow.
Aria shook her head. “Never mind.”
I moved to her side but didn’t sit down. My surroundings made me prefer to stand.
“Luca,” she began. “Dr. Brightley is very upfront. I don’t want you to take it the wrong way and act all Capo.”
I didn’t get a chance to reply because the door opened and a tall figure stepped in, a woman with short brown hair and glasses. Dr. Brightley, her name tag read. I sent Aria a look, and she smiled innocently. The doctor approached me without hesitation or initial shock. Her receptionists must have warned her. I accepted her outstretched hand, surprised by her firm grip. If she’d been a man, I would have answered with my own version of a strong grip. “I’m Dr. Brightley, and you must be the elusive father, Mr. Vitiello.” Her words were clipped, her smile disapproving.
I gave her a tight smile. “You must be the doctor incapable of helping my wife,” I said in a deadly voice.
Aria rose from her chair and stepped up to us to shake Dr. Brightley’s hand. “What he means is that I still can’t keep any food in me.”
Dr. Brightley frowned, her eyes checking Aria from head to toe. “Have you lost weight since the last time we saw each other?”
Aria nodded. “Not much.”
“You are underweight, Mrs. Vitiello,” she said with a sigh before she leveled her gaze on me. “Sadly, my options are limited. I could give your wife an infusion to improve her nutrient supply but apart from that, there’s little I can do.” She turned back to Aria. “Your sickness could be related to emotional stress, have you considered that?”
Aria blanched, and I tensed. Had Aria talked to the doctor about our personal problems? Her eyes met mine and she gave a small shake of her head to tell me she hadn’t. The doctor must have based her assumption on me missing the previous appointments. Regret left a bitter taste in my mouth. I met the doctor’s gaze, my face a mask of calm. It wasn’t her business what went on behind closed doors.