ANMELDENVALENTINA By the time I reached the fourth month of my pregnancy, I was starting to feel self conscious. The baby, our “the little bean” as we were calling him until he was safely in our arms, had taken up permanent residence on my bladder and seemed to think my ribs were a drum kit. I knew it was still too early to be feeling all of this, so it was probably just my anxiety that was making it all worse. I was exhausted, emotional, and secretly terrified that every twinge I felt meant something was wrong. Then the call came in the middle of the night. Adrian’s dad, Ernesto, had collapsed at the dinner table. He’d had another heart attack, and this one worse. The doctors were careful with their words, but their eyes said everything: Prepare yourselves. Two days later, Ernesto asked to see me alone and I was immediately filled with dread. Adrian was in California on business he couldn’t postpone. I could have waited. I should have waited. Instead I kissed the kids goodbye, told S
ADRIAN Even before Valentina slid the small silver box across the breakfast table on Christmas morning, I knew she was pregnant. I’d known for weeks. It wasn’t just that she’d pushed her wineglass away at every dinner since early November, replacing every drink with sparkling water and a guilty little smile. It was the quieter things: the way she’d pause on the staircase some mornings, hand drifting to her chest as if her breasts had suddenly declared war on every bra she owned; the way she’d started napping on the couch in the middle of the afternoon with Milo curled on her lap like a furry hot-water bottle, and the faint green tinge of puke she’d get if bacon so much as looked at her the wrong way. I never asked. I wanted her to come to terms with it and tell me when she was ready. Christmas dinner at the big house had been loud as usual. All the cousins chased each other under the table, my father told the same story about the war for the seventeenth time, Milo barked at ev
VALENTINA FIVE YEARS SINCE ADRIAN & VALENTINA’S WEDDING That afternoon, Adrian came home earlier than usual, a rare sight that immediately set my heart fluttering. He’d secretly booked our favorite little French bistro for our fifth wedding anniversary— the one tucked away on a quiet cobblestone street, with the red-and-white checkered tablecloths and the owner who still remembered how I liked my escargots drowning in garlic butter. Gemma had happily agreed to take Sofia and Stefan for the night. At six and nearly twelve, they insisted they were far too old for a “babysitter,” but we all knew a sleepover at Aunt Gemma’s meant unlimited ice cream and movies until dawn. They’d be just fine causing controlled chaos without us. By the time we’d polished off the smoothest chicken-liver pâté known to mankind and worked our way through two generously poured glasses of our favorite bottle of wine, the restaurant felt like our own private world. The candlelight flickered across Adrian’s
ADRIANIt had been seven days since Valentina rode me on that couch and then walked out without looking back. And even though I’d found it sexy, it was still gut wrenching. It had been seven days of silence that felt like a blade twisting in my ribs every time I breathed.I sent flowers- white camellias first, because she once told me they meant “you’re adorable” in some old language she loved. She left them on the doorstep to die. I sent lilies next, and they met the same fate. Then roses the color of fresh blood. The delivery driver told me the door opened just long enough for a hand to appear, take the box, and slam shut. I never even saw her shadow.Every afternoon at four-thirty I parked across the street from the house she grew up in, the one she fled to after she learned what a liar I was, and I waited. Sometimes the curtains of the pool house moved. Sometimes they didn’t. I never got out unless it was to lean against the hood and smoke until the sun bled out behind the trees.
VALENTINA Adrian’s mouth crashed into mine and every rational thought I’d clung to for the past month shattered in an instant. The world narrowed down to heat and teeth and the scrape of his stubble against my chin.I hated him. I hated the way his tongue slid against mine, the way his hand cupped the back of my neck like he still owned me. I hated that my body answered before my brain could scream no. My lips parted, a traitor’s surrender, and I kissed him back hard enough to bruise.I hated how good it felt. I hated that I was already wet, already aching and kissing him back like I didn’t hate him. He groaned into my mouth, that low, broken sound he only ever made for me, and something feral snapped loose inside my chest.Adrian walked me backward, one hand fisted in my hair, the other gripping my hip hard. We stumbled out of the kitchen, through the archway, and into the living room. My calves hit the edge and I almost went down, but he caught me, growled into my mouth, and lo
ADRIANI honestly thought my mind was playing tricks on me when I walked into the house and heard the sound from the kitchen.A whisk tapping against a glass bowl.The kids were at school. Sybil was off till later in the evening. The house was supposed to be empty. I’d taken a break from work just so I could try to have a good nap before all the chaos resumed again.I carefully walked toward the kitchen with my hand ready to reach for my gun at any time. But when the doorway came into view, I stopped breathing. Valentina was in the kitchen. She was standing at the counter with her sleeves rolled up and her hair in a loose bun, and she had flour coating her hands and cheeks. There were trays and trays of cookies lined up on the counter. She must have been at it for hours.Valentina was here. It was so unbelievable that I blinked and shook my head, convinced that the tiredness had made me begin hallucinating. But when I opened my eyes, she was still there.“Valentina?”“Oh my God!” S
VALENTINA The promise I’d made to Adrian that I wouldn’t move into another room no matter what happened between us echoed in my head like a cruel joke. I wasn’t sure I wanted to keep it anymore. For the first time since our marriage, fear sat heavy in my chest. I didn’t want to be afraid of my h
VALENTINA That afternoon, Stefan and I were on the floor of the living room. It had become our little ritual— quiet time together while Sofia took her nap upstairs. The soft hum of the baby monitor filled the background, and sunlight streamed through the wide windows, pooling in golden squares acr
VALENTINA The next day, I browsed party ideas for sixth birthdays. Stefan’s special day was in a week, and I wanted to surprise him with a cake and a themed birthday party. Clutching the edge of the sofa, Sofia pulled herself up to her legs beside me, grinning proudly.“Good,” I cooed while I kept
VALENTINA After Adrian left, I sank onto the sofa with my phone still in hand, feeling the echo of our earlier conversation in my chest. My heart hadn’t stopped racing since he’d told me about my uncles. In our world, a fall from grace almost always meant a bullet to the head, and that was exactly







