Chapter Eleven 

– Areila –

I marked another space on the calender I’d recently hung in the kitchen and allowed myself to smile freely.

Three more days.

Three more days and I’ll technically be Mrs. Rafaello Geovani.

The days were going by so fast, the wedding was approaching quickly, and my stomach expanded little by little as the time past.

Rafe refused to tell me where we were getting married, other than the fact that it would most definitely in a church. I only hoped he’d keep it small like I asked.

“So,” Val asked as she flipped through my many cook books I’d scavenged over the years, looking for wintery desserts. “Besides the fact you have no idea what’s going on at the wedding other than knowing I’ll be standing in a beautiful deep red dress next to the alter, your soon-to-be, and your soon-to-be’s aggravating best friend, and what you’ll be wearing yourself, has Rafe told you anything about your honeymoon?” I looked up from the red hot Cheeto’s I was eating and sent my best friend a nervous look.

“Honeymoon?” I’d totally forgotten about a honeymoon. We probably wouldn’t have one, considering the circumstances. . . I shook my head finally, “I don’t think a honeymoon was in the contract when I signed over my life,” I said sarcastically, although there was a mix of sadness behind my voice.

“I don’t know, Ar, something tells me you mean more to—”

“Tesoro, sono a casa!” Rafe’s deep, rich voice sounded out over Val’s and I giggled as the now familiar shivers ran down my back whenever I heard his soothing sound.

“What did he say?” Val asked before Rafe strolled into the kitchen in all his work-rumpled glory. He walked up to me, wrapped an arm around my waist and kissed the back of my hair out of a newly developed habit before pulling away and grabbed the handle for the fridge.

“‘Honey, I’m home.'” I answered proudly, popping another hot Cheeto in my mouth. “He’s been teaching me Italian,” I giggled.

Sadly, that phrase is about all I could get the hang of.

Val eyed Rafe accusingly as he pulled out ingredients for a sandwich. As I went to grab another spicy hot fry, Rafe quickly snatched the bag away.

“This is more than enough proof that you’re pregnant with boys,” He accused jokingly as he rolled up the bag and placed it on the top shelf of the pantry, out of my reach, before turning back to his unmade sandwich. I frowned and bunched my eyebrows.

“I can make that for you,” I insisted, knowing that today must have been another stressful day at work, but Rafe shook his head and pulled away the sandwich, grinning teasingly.

“No thanks, Cheeto Fingers, I’d rather not get any red flavoring on my turkey sandwich.” When I pouted, Rafe only let out a hearty laugh and kissed my forehead. “Wash your hands, tesoro. I’ll make us a small dinner, you look tired. You haven’t been standing around all day, have you?” He accused and I shrugged.

“Maybe, maybe not. But I was perfectly fine with my hot Cheeto’s. You’ve taken them from me and I fear I’ll faint from withdrawal,” I said dramatically, placing my wrist over my forehead and starting to bend back as if I were passing out.

“You’ll live, cara.” Rafe chuckled before asking, “Would you like to stay for dinner, Valentine?” I turned to see Val’s reaction and watched as she shook her head and grab her coat off one of the island’s chairs.

“No, I’d better get going. Here, Ar, I marked all the recipes I want to try this season. I’ll see you in a couple days.” She responded.

“You’re not coming to the rehearsal?” I asked. Our wedding rehearsal was tomorrow, and then I’d just have to wait two more days after that.

“No, I have something going on then. I might be able to catch the tail-end of it, but don’t get your hopes up.” She replied, continuing bluntly with a smile, “No worries though, I’ll be helping you on the morning of this loveless marriage.” Val kissed my cheek and waved goodbye, “I’ll see you then, Ar. Bye, Rafaello.”

When I heard the slam of the front door closing, I sat forward and stared unseeingly at the counter top.

Loveless marriage.

Leave it to Val to put everything in black and white for you. I held back a sad sigh.

Loveless marriage, I repeated to myself. Would it really be loveless? I loved him, but could he ever love me back? I thought surely he’d love our children, but then again. . .

Men like Rafe didn’t settle down. Ever. Men like Rafe didn’t have children. Singular, or plural, the playboy life meant no offspring, period.

Rafe was only in this marriage trap to protect his image.

I suddenly grew angry.

It was true. He only wanted to keep the scandalous former secretary from blabbing her mouth to the press.

I stood, the stool jerking out from under me, and sent Rafe a look of fiery daggers before stomping out of the kitchen.

“Tesoro? Tesoro, what’s wrong?” Rafe called from behind me. He knew exactly what was wrong. “Areila?” His voice was now closer as he followed after me, quickly grabbing my arm and pulling my to face him. “Don’t ignore me, Areila! Tell me what’s wrong, talk to me!”

“As if you don’t know,” I spat. Rafaello gave me an incredulous look, like he had no idea what I was talking about.

“No, obviously I don’t Ar. So tell me what’s wrong. You were perfectly fine a moment ago, what changed? Is this the beginning of those mood swings the doctor warned me about?”

“I can’t believe you! This is so not a mood swing, I am not hormonal, and this damn pregnancy has nothing to do with my current mood!” That probably wasn’t one hundred percent true.

“Then what happened, Areila? Please help me out here, Ar, because I’m lost.” Rafe yelled back at me.

“What happened?” I repeated, “What happened? You happened, Rafaello! You couldn’t have just left me alone. No, you just had to watch me at the bar while I was filling in. You just had to get me to sleep with you that night. Is that really all I am to you? Some conquest?” Before he could answer, I continued. “And to your misfortune, this conquest came with consequences. Consequences you had to keep from the press. You force me into this hell because you didn’t want the slutty receptionist announcing to the world that the high and mighty Rafaello Geovani got her pregnant. You just want to protect your image. You don’t care for me like a fiancèe should. You don’t care for our children like a father should. You just care about yourself, and that’s what my attitude’s about.” And with that, I ripped my arm away and stormed up to my room. My own room.

__________________________

Letting the door slam shut behind me, I let out a huff of air through my nose. “Mood swings the doctor warned you about,” I muttered angrily. “Mood swings! As if he could even fathom what it’s like to be pregnant, and he’s going off about mood swings.” I stalked over to my closet, half-wishing I could curse him in Italian, and started rummaging around.

And to think we’d slept in the same bed! I thought bitterly before pulling out a winter coat; the fur on the inside soft and cozy. I shrugged into it and slipped my socked feet into a pair of boots sitting near the corner of my bed.

I stomped out of my room and hurried down the stairs, the unexplained anger still bubbling and seething within me as I passed the kitchen entrance.

“Ar? Ari, where are you—” Rafe’s voice came from behind me, following me again as I made my way to the front of the house. “Areila, where are you going?” He boomed, but I was too angry to flinch; to care that his temper could snap just as fast as mine did.

Just as quickly as Keith.

As Rafe rounded the corner to the foyer, I gripped the knob of the front door and pulled it open roughly. “Areila!” He was angry. I knew he was. Something told me he wouldn’t dare hit me, though, and I believed it.

I turned towards Rafe, seeing his beautiful face etched with fierce worry and concern rather than the fiery rage I had expected to see. “I need some space.” I stated before pulling the door shut behind me.

I stepped away from Rafe’s grand porch, my boots meeting the fresh, powdery snow as I trudged down the driveway. Pulling the door to my car open, I let my body fall heavily into the seat before I started up the engine and pealed down the drive; away from his house.

I didn’t want to be near him. I didn’t want his stupid accusations. I didn’t want him pretending to be responsible; taking the kids and I in. He didn’t care about me, our children, or the marriage deal. Thank God Val brought it up again, or I would have blindly agreed to marry that heartless bastard.

I pulled the car away from the large house, heading for the coffee house. Hopefully Val would be there.

_______________________

“Sorry, Areila, she only checked in about ten minutes ago. I think she went back home for the day.” I nodded at the young woman standing at the cash register,

“Okay, thanks, Katie.” I left Val’s coffee house with a frown and started the engine to my car once more. Although Rafe had bought a new one for “my safety”, I’d insisted I kept my own car, no matter how big of a mistake it could turn out to be. I knew my car wasn’t very reliable, but he didn’t need to know that. I could only blame it on my pride that I refused to let the piece of breaking-down metal go.

I slowly navigated my unpredictable vehical down the slushed and icy roads. It was past six, but the sky was already mixing from wintery dark grays to the night’s dark blues, the snow coming down faster now. I’d never seen it snow so hard before Thanksgiving, but it must be a small snow storm, indicating a heavy snows this winter.

By the time I was only a few miles away from Val’s familar apartment complex, my anger at Rafaello had dissipated, but once again, it was my pride keeping me from going back.

Turn back. He looked so hurt when you left.

Exactly why I can’t go back. What if he’s like Keith? The hurt is just a mask while the anger boils.

He’s not.

He could be.

I pulled up to a lone stop light as my internal battle raged on, my headlights casting out into the darkness like a spotlight in the fog.

He could care about you.

He doesn’t.

And that’s why he treats you differently than everyone else? That’s why he’s not as cold with you as he is with everyone else? Because he doesn’t care?

He doesn’t treat me differently. He’s just as closed off to me as he is with everybody.

The traffic light flashed dully, changing from bright red to neon green, and I pressed on the accelerator. Only, the car didn’t move.

My heart thudded, silently cursing myself for jinxing my car only an hour before, and shut off the engine before restarting it. The car coughed and sputtered to life, turning on normally. I hit the gas again, harder this time, yet it still didn’t move.

Oh no.

I grabbed my phone from the passenger seat and used my thumb on the unlock button.

Dead.

Great.

I looked out the windshield as I began to panic. The early winter storm was quickly worsening and I could barely make out the trees to my right and left sides.

Oh no. Oh no, oh no, oh no, please, this can’t be happening.

I sat there as the minutes passed, my panic and anxiety raising to whole other levels of disbelief.

It wouldn’t be smart to get out and try to find a phone, the town Val lived in was four miles out and, although I dressed warm, it wasn’t appropriate for a snow storm. I would just have to wait here until a car possibly came to pass by.

I hunkered down in my seat, wrapping my arms around me for warmth and rubbed my belly. “It’s okay, babies,” I whispered, starting to shiver, “Mommy’s got you.”

Minutes passed and felt like hours, and despite the cold, I felt my eyes getting heavy. The traffic light flashed above me, softly covering me first in red light like a blanket, and then drenching my body and car with bright, flickering green. Red and then green, red, then green. The slow flashing lulled my eyes closed.

I had just drifted off to sleep when I heard a faint noise. Groggy and tired, I ignored it and wrapped my arms tighter around my midsection, trying to tune it out with welcomed sleep. With the babies growing bigger, I hadn’t gotten many good nights’ sleep.

But the noise persisted, gradually growing louder and closer. I slowly opened my eyes, slightly straining them as I was flashed in green again.

Wait. . .

Was that a. . .truck?

All the sudden, the sound seemed too close, and with another flash of the light, my head rammed into the steering wheel as a great force swerved my small car to the left, crashing it into a steady tree.

Everything went black.