Annette told herself it didn't matter, that he deserved to know she loved him. Carlo had given her a family who loved and accepted her, a family she adored as well. He was such a good man. Yes, a little controlling and used to getting his way, but he listened and stepped back when he needed to.
She said it again when ecstasy took them and ignored the echo of silence that came after.
Carlo lay in the darkness, awake and thinking, his precious wife lost to slumber beside him. They had made love more than once tonight, exhausting, but also eliciting word of love.
Did she mean them? Did she love him again? Still?
He hadn't said the words back, but for the first time he accepted he felt them. Why had he fought the admission so hard?
Because five years ago, he'd believed himself in love and loved in return only to be humiliated and rejected on his wedding day. His pride had not allowed him to acknowledge the deep wound, not even to his brother.
Now that he had better perspective on the past, Carlo knew Annette had meant the words when she said them five years ago. So, why did he doubt them now?
Because of the baby. She'd married him for the baby's sake.
Wasn't that what she thought about him? That he'd only wanted to marry her because she was pregnant?
Who was the genius that told her he only wanted sex to work her out of his system?
That would be him.
But he loved her. And he had to tell her. Would she be upset if he woke her up to do so?
He could wait for the morning, surely.
Carlo lay, rigid, fighting the need to wake his wife with tender kisses and whisper sweet words of adoration in her ear.
Annette shifted and then groaned. "I have to pee," she said, as if talking to herself.
Never had a bodily function been so welcome by Carlo. "I would like to tell you something when you're done."
She jerked as if startled. "Carlo? You're awake?" she asked, sounding more alert herself.
"I am."
"And you want to tell me something? In the middle of the night?"
"It can wait for your bladder."
"Baby more like. It's like she rolls right onto my bladder every other hour."
They'd found out the baby was a girl at the OB's visit just before their wedding. Joyce and Annette had been ecstatic, promising each other their daughters would be the best of friends. Just like sisters.
Carlo replayed that sweet memory in his head as he waited for his wife to return to their bed.
When Annette came back into the bedroom, Carlo had turned on a lamp and was sitting up, his expression filled with an emotion she was afraid to name.
"You didn't say it earlier, when I did," she blurted. "Or five years ago. You never said it."
"Five years ago, I planned to say it on our wedding night."
"You did?" she asked faintly.
"Si."
"And tonight?"
"I was still fighting admitting it to myself."