Chapter-36 Shock (Part 1)

Gianna

I think I was going to be sick.

“Gianna…what’s wrong?” Nico raised a brow. “Why do you look like that? You’ve been taking your contraceptives, right?” I wanted to say something, but I couldn’t form the right words. Panic wasn’t making it easier.

“I…I…” The fuck Gianna…say something.

“I what?” Nico snapped, startling me. His face mirrored my panic and fear, his jaw clenched as he almost glared at me.

“I…am not sure,” I whispered. He blinked at me. And then he blinked again. His expression shifted from blankness to surprise, then to shock, and finally to pure rage within seconds.

“Are you kidding me?” Nico growled, startling me. “You’re not sure? What the fuck does that even mean?”

“I…I took a shot a few days before the we…wedding. Aria suggested it,” I mumbled. “I…I am not sure if I was to retake the shot after fifteen days or a…month.” Nico just stared at me.

And then, slowly, his face changed—blank at first. Then surprised. Then horrified. And finally, rage.

“You’re not sure?” he said, his voice dangerously low. I didn’t respond. I couldn’t. My throat had closed up.

“You’re telling me this now? After we’ve had sex—what? Four, five times—without protection?” His voice rose with every word. “What the fuck, Gianna?”

“I didn’t think it would matter—”

“You didn’t think?” he exploded, cutting me off. “What the fuck do you mean you didn’t think? Jesus Christ—when you didn’t say a damn thing about condoms or anything, I assumed you had it handled! That you were on the pill, or the shot, or something! I never would’ve—” He broke off, hands raking through his hair, pacing away from me like he needed distance just to breathe.

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Sorry?” He turned on me, eyes burning. “Do you even realize how serious this is? You could be pregnant, Gianna. Pregnant. Right now, as we speak!”

Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes. I hated crying. Especially in front of him. “Please…just calm down.”

“Don’t tell me to calm down!” he snapped. “Do you even get how fucked this is? How messy this could become?” He paused, breathing hard, trying to rein himself in. “I can’t afford this kind of complication. Not now. Not ever. Not with everything going on.”

“Nico…”

“No. We’re leaving.” His tone turned cold, clipped. “We’re going back now. And the second we get home, you’re going to your OB-GYN. No arguments. We’re getting answers today.”

His certainty made me panic more. I took a shaky step toward him. “And what if it’s not fine?” I asked, barely able to form the words. “What if I am pregnant?”

Silence.

Nico’s eyes locked on mine. And in that moment, all the color drained from his face. His lips parted slightly like he was going to say something—anything—but no sound came out.

He looked like he’d been sucker punched. Like my words physically hurt.

“Nico…”

“Let’s not talk about that,” he said abruptly, his voice stripped of emotion.

And then he turned. And walked away. Just like that. Like he always do, leaving me completely alone. And I stood there, one hand over my stomach, as the possibility settled in. What if it was too late?

What if I were pregnant?

The ride back home was unbearable.

Nico hadn’t said a single word since we left. Not once. But he didn’t need to—his silence was deafening. His grip on the steering wheel was iron-tight, his knuckles pale. The muscle in his jaw ticked like a warning sign, and though his eyes were fixed on the road, I could feel the panic radiating off him in waves. Thick, suffocating. It filled the space between us and made it hard to breathe.

My heart hadn’t stopped pounding since that moment. It was when the car rolled into the driveway and slowed to a stop did he finally spoke, his voice low, tight.

“Get ready. I’ll come with you.”

“No.” My voice came out quieter than I expected, but firm enough to surprise him.

“What?” He blinked, eyes narrowing.

“I don’t want you coming with me.”

“Gianna,” he said, the warning already in his tone, “Don’t do this. You’re not going alone. We don’t even know..."

“I said no,” I interrupted, sharper this time. I raised my hand to stop whatever he was about to say next. “I need to do this without you.”

He stared at me like I’d just struck him. His expression hardened, but I didn’t care. Not right now. I couldn’t handle his bullshit.

Before he could respond, I opened the door and stepped out. My legs were shaky as I ran straight up to our bedroom, grabbed the first set of clothes I could find and then dashed to the guest room before Nico could find me. I did not want to see him at the moment.

I locked the door behind me and stepped into the shower, not even waiting for the water to warm up fully before stepping under it. It hit my skin in sharp bursts, but I welcomed it.

I pressed my forehead against the tiled wall, chest heaving. The water couldn’t drown the fear clawing at my insides. It couldn’t wash away the memory of Nico’s face and his reaction to this.

I didn’t mean for this to happen. God, what if I were pregnant?

I slid down to the floor of the shower, arms wrapped around my knees as the heat from the water seeped into my bones. I was spiralling. This wasn’t how it was supposed to go. Just when Nico had started lowering his walls... just when I’d thought maybe, maybe we were finally learning how to be something real.

He proved how wrong I was. Again.

I wiped my face with a shaky hand, but the tears kept coming. I needed someone beside me. Someone who wouldn’t judge me, wouldn’t panic, wouldn’t throw questions or blame.

Not Teresa. She wasn’t the right person for this. Definitely not Aria.

But then... someone came to mind.

Yes. There was one person I knew who wouldn’t judge me or ask unnecessary questions.

_______________

“I’m glad you called me,” Amara said softly, squeezing my hand with assurance. “It will be fine. Don’t worry, Gi.”

“We don’t know, sorella,” I whispered, panic niggling at my chest so hard that it was a struggle to breathe properly.

Amara was the first person who came to my mind. I knew she would understand, won’t judge me and neither would she ask a zillion questions like Aria would. And I was right. I simply called her and told her what happened and asked if she could come with me. She said yes instantly, and that was it. She hasn’t asked me what happened, nor has she judged me for being so negligent and stupid.

“It’s going to be okay. Do you want something to drink? Or eat?”

I shook my head. The OB-GYN did confirm that I was to retake the shot after one month since the first time. We were still two days late, so she suggested we do a pregnancy test to see if I was pregnant. And now we were waiting for the results. If it came positive…Nico…he was going to kill me. And heck, I was not ready to be a mother. My marriage was a mess, and I was trying to hold it together with sex and seducing my husband. This was not the time.

“Gianna Baldocchi,” the assistant called my name. I jumped to my feet instantly, holding onto Amara’s hand for dear life.

“Th…that’s me,” I choked.

“Please come inside,” she said and then disappeared. I glanced at Amara, and she squeezed my hand again.

“It’s going to be okay. Let’s go,” she assured, almost dragging me inside.

The moment I stepped inside the doctor’s office, my legs threatened to give out. My breath was shallow, barely staying in my chest as I perched on the seat. My fingers dug into the soft cushion beneath me. I couldn’t sit still.

The door creaked open, and the doctor stepped in with a clipboard from wherever she had gone. Her expression was neutral—professional—but I scanned her face, desperate for any hint. My hands were clammy. My heart pounded against my ribs.

“You’re not pregnant,” she said simply. "The tests came back negative."