Chapter 3: What the Paper Said
Alessandro took the paper from his mother's hand.
His eyes moved across it once.
Then he folded it and pressed it flat against his thigh, like he could make it disappear through sheer pressure.
"Alessandro." Elena's voice was low.
"Look at me."
He didn't.
Bianca stepped forward.
"Whatever that is, it can wait until after—"
"It cannot wait." Elena turned to face her fully.
"It has already waited long enough."
Rosalie guided Livia toward the far corner of the room, away from the center of it.
The little girl went without argument, her eyes still fixed on her father's face.
Alessandro finally looked up.
"Where did you get this, Mama?"
"From your father's study.
Three days ago." Elena clasped her hands in front of her.
"I wasn't looking for it.
I was looking for the insurance documents.
I found that instead."
"That's private—" Alessandro started.
"Yes," Elena said.
"It is."
Bianca's smile had not moved.
But something behind it had.
"I'd love to know what you two are being so dramatic about."
Alessandro turned to her slowly.
"It's a medical record."
"Whose?"
He didn't answer immediately.
The paper was still pressed flat against his leg.
"Yours," he said.
The smile stayed.
But Bianca's chin lifted, just slightly.
"I don't know what you think you've found—"
"It's dated fourteen months ago." Alessandro's voice was very quiet now.
"It's from a private clinic in Geneva."
Rosalie felt Livia's hand find hers in the corner.
She held it.
"Alessandro." Bianca's voice shifted register.
Softer now.
Careful.
"You know I had that procedure.
I told you it was minor.
I told you it was nothing."
"You told me it was a cyst."
"It was."
"The record says otherwise."
The makeup artist had set down her brush.
Nobody in the room was pretending not to listen.
"What does it say?" Rosalie asked.
She hadn't meant to speak.
The words came out before she could stop them.
Alessandro looked at her.
Then at his mother.
Then back at Bianca.
"It says she was treated for a condition that makes pregnancy impossible," he said.
"Permanently.
And that she had known for over two years before we met."
The room held its breath.
Bianca set down the small mirror she'd been holding.
It touched the vanity without a sound.
"You told me you wanted children," Alessandro said.
"You told me that was one of the reasons you wanted to marry quickly.
You said Livia needed a mother, and that you wanted to give her siblings."
"Alessandro—"
"You said that to me.
On the night I proposed.
Do you remember?"
She said nothing.
"I have it in a message." His hand moved to his jacket pocket.
"I kept it because it made me happy when you said it.
I kept it because I believed you."
Bianca turned toward the mirror.
She picked up a lipstick she didn't need and turned it slowly in her fingers.
"People say things," she said quietly.
"In emotional moments.
You can't hold someone to every word."
"I'm not holding you to a word." Alessandro stepped closer.
"I'm asking you why you lied.
I'm asking you why, when the doctors told you the truth, you chose to tell me something else entirely.
For over a year."
"Because I knew you'd react like this."
"Like what?"
"Like everything is a betrayal." Her voice hardened again, the softness gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"Like I owe you a medical report before you'll love me."
"I loved you," Alessandro said.
"That's why it matters."
Livia's fingers tightened around Rosalie's hand.
"Daddy." Her voice was barely above a whisper.
"Is she going to be my mama?"
May you like
Nobody answered her.
And that silence was its own kind of answer.
