16. Giana

CHAPTER 16

Giana

W ith a gift wrapped underneath my arm, I walk the steps to Pete and Nettie’s apartment above the hardware store. Michael stays close behind me, holding me underneath my elbow. He worries about me climbing these stairs when I’m pregnant. It’s sweet. And irritating at the same time.

“You all right, honey?” he asks when we reach the top, supporting my extra weight with his arm.

“Stop worrying and messing over me. I’m fine.” I swat him away.

I should be used to his extra attention after being together for almost a year, but I’m not. When I married him six months ago—after learning I was pregnant—I hadn’t known I’d lose some of my independence. I’m sure I’ll get used to it, but for now, I’m always at a level of constant annoyance.

He holds up his palms in surrender. “Fine. Just trying to help.”

“Thank you,” I force out and knock on the door.

Nettie greets me with the same smile I’ve been relying on for the past twenty some years. The same tight hug too. Being with her always makes me feel like myself. Almost whole.

Almost.

“Where’s the birthday boy?” I ask, scanning the small apartment that’s filled to the brim with children.

“Aw, Gigi, you didn’t have to.” Nettie accepts the gift. “You’re always spoiling Jack.”

I wave her off. “C’mon, how often does a kid turn seven?”

She bumps her hip into mine, and we both smile.

“Hey, Michael. I think the men are down in the hardware store surrounding the television. Some big game is on, I guess.”

Michael’s gaze shifts from Nettie to me.

“Go on.” I give him a kiss on the cheek and shove him back out the door. “I’ll be fine. Let me catch up with my best friend.”

“You sure?”

“Yes. Go.”

“If you insist.” He still looks unhappy by this but does what I ask.

Michael always does what I ask.

“How you doing?” Nettie eyes me skeptically.

I smooth my stretching T-shirt over my round belly. I can’t look at her when I answer, “I’m okay.”

“You and Michael okay?”

“We’re good.”

“Gigi?”

Tearing my gaze from my protruding belly, I can’t stop my eyes from watering when I look up at Nettie. “Honest, Michael is great. He’s sweet, he’s attentive, and he provides for us. But…”

“He’s not Leo?” she whispers, brows raised.

My lips quiver. I can’t bring myself to say the words aloud.

“You’re right. Michael is all those things. And it’s annoying how much that guy loves you.” She rolls her eyes playfully and takes my hand. “But…it’s okay to still miss Leo.”

I nod and wipe at the traitorous tears fallen across my cheeks.

A fter the party, I drive us home. Michael had a few beers while watching the game with Pete and the other dads. Our home is situated in the middle of town. The cabin sits empty most of the year. We only use it as a vacation home now.

Michael gets frisky after even a smidge of alcohol, but I’m not feeling it tonight. Not after the mention of Leo and being triggered by my past. While I love Michael, it’s different. I could never love anyone the same way I loved Leo.

I tell Michael I’m not in the mood, that the baby is doing somersaults, and maybe we can put off being intimate until next weekend. After he passes out in the bed next to me, I slip out from underneath his arm and dress in a sweater and pair of elastic waisted pants.

Because Michael is a worrier, I leave him a note:

Michael,

Couldn’t sleep. Took a drive to the cabin to check on it.

Gigi

T he last thing I want to do is make my husband question my commitment to him. He already had his reservations about dating me, never mind marrying me. Pete met Michael Milano through mutual friends and introduced us without any intentions. Knowing I might still be healing from the loss of my first love, Michael took a chance on me. In return, I took a chance on him.

But really, I was taking a chance on living again.

The drive to the cabin is peaceful. It’s a clear night, and the stars guide my way. Sometimes I feel like I could stare up at the sky and keep driving and I’d still make it to the cabin. It’s as familiar to me as my skin.

When the cabin comes into view, warmth covers me. It’s a sight that never seems to disappoint in comforting me. Michael doesn’t feel as fondly about it as I do. He knows when I come here, it’s usually because I’m missing Leo.

I climb out of the car and grab mail from the box before taking the steps on the porch. Before going inside, I can’t resist taking a detour by the porch swing. Running my hands over the wood, along the chain, gets my heart thrumming in my chest.

Unlocking the door, I use a flashlight to guide me to the candles and matches I leave in the kitchen. We stopped paying for electricity year round since we only use the cabin two or three times a year.

I light a few candles and go through the mail. Doing the math in my head, I realize by the thick stack how long it’s been since I’ve snuck out here. It’s mostly junk mail. Michael doesn’t see the point in us receiving mail here at all.

But disclosing my reason for it somehow feels as if I’m being disloyal to my husband.

An envelope in the stack catches my eye. The return address is from Texas. Jones Family Ranch .

My heart stalls in my chest.

A metallic taste pools in my mouth, and my throat thickens.

Blackness tunnels my vision as my stomach churns. Before I allow myself to pass out, I collapse into a chair next to a candle’s flickering light.

I trace a trembling finger over my maiden name— Russo . While the hand lettering is familiar, I sniff and force my watering eyes to blink back tears. It’s probably from Marco. Or Sara.

Slowly, I flip the envelope over, feeling the weight of it in my hand, and slip my finger inside to tear it open. At first, my eyes quickly scan the letter, my pulse picking up speed. When I see the signature at the bottom, my heart slides up my throat, and I burst into sobs.

Dear Giana,

I debated sending you a letter at all. Maybe thinking I was dead would be better. But I couldn’t do that. I know you, and you would never give up hope I was still alive.

Sara told me about your marriage. About the baby. While I can’t lie and say I’m not devastated over it, I do understand. Sara says you held onto hope long after my family buried an empty box. So, for that, I thank you. I thank you for much more.

If it wasn’t for you, your letters, and your love, I never would’ve made it out alive.

After the explosion, I hid so I wouldn’t be captured. But I was injured pretty badly. A local took me in. Hid me and nursed me back to health. After that, I had to blend in amongst them, waiting until I found a US soldier and disclosed my identity. It took months after that for them to sneak me out of there. Another few months to get me back to Texas .

And I apologize that it’s taken me another few months of recovering back at the ranch. Growing used to being alive again. While also coming to terms with you no longer being mine.

If you feel any further obligation to me, I want you to know, I release you. I wish you nothing but the best in your life. But don’t think I won’t still love you and dream about you. And on occasion, I may still send you a letter. Letting you know how I’m doing. If you wish, I’d love to hear from you as well.

I just know this baby of yours is gonna be something else. Because he has the most incredible mama.

Take care of yourself, Sugar. You never know, maybe one day, we’ll meet again.

Love always, Leo