“He’s not my boss.”
She frowns. “Since when?”
“Since I showed up on his doorstep on my wedding night and kissed him ... and then quit.” I pick up the plastic cup and take a sip to avoid further questioning, but she snatches it off me and slams it on the tray table, sloshing water over the sides.
“Wait, what? Oh no, missy. You are spilling the tea, or I go direct to the source for information.”
I don’t doubt she would bail Arturo up against the door of the restaurant just for more details, so I come clean about everything. When I’m done, Clem sits back in her chair with a sigh. “So Art wants you, you want Art, and your husband wants to kill your lover?”
“You failed to mention I want my husband too.”
“Well obviously, or we wouldn’t be in this mess.” She leans forward and grasps my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “Have you given any thought to an open marriage?”
I raise a brow. “I’ve given thought to having the nurses throw you out of here too.”
“What? I’m serious.”
“When you passed Gabe and Arturo outside, did it look like either one was open to that idea?”
“It’s not like I asked.”
“Let me rephrase, was there blood and black eyes involved?”
“Yeah ...”
“Then I think that’s our answer.” I give my friend a sad smile. “I may lust after my boss, and I may feel a little something more than lust for him, but I love my husband. I’ve loved him since the day we met, and I’m having his baby.”
“Honey, all I know is that if you have to convince yourself, maybe it’s not meant to be.”
“Why do you keep pushing this?”
“I just ... I love Gabe. But I don’t want to see you get hurt. I want you to be happy.”
“What does that even mean? We’ve known Gabe for years. You barely even know Arturo.”
“And I love Gabe like a brother, I do. I’m just ... I’m not the only one concerned about his drinking and the amount of weed he’s doing at Family Business. Tommy and Santa have noticed things.”
“Things you didn’t think his wife would want to know?”
“We’ve just been ... monitoring the situation.”
“Gabe’s fine. We’re fine.” The defensiveness in my voice is not lost on me. “It’s just a lot to take in, the baby, my health ... we’re dealing with it the best way we know how.”
“Right. I just hope he’s dealing with it in a way that doesn’t impact you and this little rug rat. So, how about a round of sudoku?”
“Actually, I’m kind of tired.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah. I’ll come back tomorrow.”
I nod and close my eyes. Clem gathers her things and kisses my cheek, she doesn’t comment on the tears slowly tracking down my face, and once she’s gone, I wipe them away and cradle my unborn baby.
“Everything’s fine. It’ll all work out. You’ll see,” I tell my baby, though I’m no longer sure if I’m trying to convince him or myself.
CHAPTER FORTY-EIGHT
Lo
One week later—after a ton of begging and pleading with my OBGYN and the hospital staff—I’m allowed to return home. It doesn’t hurt as much when I stand now, I’ve had no bleeding, and the baby is doing fine, but I’m still supposed to be on bed rest. So, of course, I’m standing in our kitchen, nursing a chamomile tea and picking a fight with my husband because I can no longer stand the silence between us.