REINA
The house felt suffocating without him in it.
Paolo’s absence pressed down on like a physical weight. His scent still lingered in the air — that familiar cologne mixed with sothing uniquely him. His shirt was still draped carelessly over the chair in the bedroom. The silence he left behind was louder than any argunt we’d ever had.
He was gone.
I had called him five tis now.
Each unanswered ring carved deeper into my chest.
"Pick up... please, Paolo," I whispered on the last attempt, my voice cracking with desperation. "Don’t do this to . Not tonight."
Voicemail again.
I stared at the darkened phone screen until my eyes burned, willing it to light up with his na. It never did.
"Okay," I breathed shakily, placing the phone down on the counter. "Just breathe. You can’t break down right now."
But my body felt wrong. Too tight. Too fragile. Like I was one wrong move away from shattering completely.
The pregnancy test sat on the bathroom counter like a ticking bomb.
I hadn’t touched it since earlier. Now, with Paolo gone and my mind spiraling, I couldn’t put it off any longer.
My hands trembled as I picked up the small plastic cup. I filled it slowly, the sound of liquid hitting the bottom echoing harshly in the quiet bathroom. It felt detached, like I was performing soone else’s nightmare.
I stared at the pregnancy kit for a long mont.
This tiny stick held the power to change everything.
"What am I going to do if it’s positive?" I whispered to myself, voice barely audible. "Donico’s baby... growing inside while my marriage is falling apart. How do I even begin to explain this?"
My chest squeezed painfully.
I dipped the test into the cup, heart pounding violently in my ears. After the required ti, I set it face down on the sink and turned away quickly, unable to watch the result develop.
"I can’t stay in here," I muttered. "I need air. I need to think clearly before I face whatever that test says."
I walked to the closet on unsteady legs and pulled out one of Paolo’s oversized shirts. The soft fabric swallowed my fra as I slipped it on. It slled like him — warm, comforting, and painfully familiar. The hem fell to mid-thigh, the sleeves dangling past my hands. Wearing it felt like both a betrayal and a desperate need for comfort after what had happened between us earlier.
Barefoot, I stepped outside into the garden.
The night air was cool and refreshing against my heated skin. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, carrying the faint scent of flowers and damp earth. I walked slowly across the grass, the cold blades tickling my feet, and stopped in the middle of the garden, wrapping my arms tightly around myself.
I tilted my head up to the star-filled sky, trying to steady my racing thoughts.
"If it’s positive..." I whispered into the darkness, "it’s Donico’s. Not Paolo’s. God... how did everything get so ssed up? I’ve been sleeping with Donico for months, and now Paolo and I almost... and then he vomited on and ran like I was poison."
A bitter, broken sound escaped my throat — not quite a laugh, not quite a sob.
I pressed a hand to my lower stomach.
"What am I supposed to do with a baby right now? Especially one that isn’t even my husband’s? Paolo already looks at like he’s terrified of getting close. If he finds out about this..."
Tears slipped silently down my cheeks.
"What is happening to us?" I whispered desperately. "Why does it feel like everything is crumbling and I’m the only one still trying to hold it together?"
The cold night air continued to brush against my bare legs, but it did little to calm the storm inside .
Then I heard footsteps.
Slow. asured. Confident.
My body went rigid.
I turned around slowly.
Donico stood at the edge of the garden, half-hidden in shadow, the moonlight carving sharp, handso lines across the visible side of his face. He looked calm. Too calm. Like he had every right to be standing there in the middle of the night.
My stomach dropped.
"What are you doing here?" I asked sharply, my voice cutting through the quiet.
He didn’t answer right away. His eyes slowly traveled over — taking in Paolo’s oversized shirt hanging loosely on my body, my bare legs, my tear-streaked face.
"I wanted to see you," he said finally, his voice smooth and low.
"That’s not an answer," I snapped. "You shouldn’t be here. Not now."
A faint smile ghosted across his lips.
"You’re upset."
"I’m busy," I shot back. "And this is my ho. You need to leave."
His gaze lingered on the shirt again. Sothing darker flickered in his eyes — possessiveness, maybe jealousy — but it vanished quickly.
"You look cold," he said instead, ignoring my demand. "And lonely."
"I’m fine," I lied, hugging the shirt tighter around .
He took one slow, deliberate step forward.
I imdiately stepped back. "Don’t co any closer."
He paused, but his intense gaze never wavered.
"I heard he left you tonight," Donico continued softly. "Drove off like a coward after whatever happened between you two."
My throat tightened.
"He’s just dealing with sothing," I said defensively.
"That didn’t sound like dealing with sothing," he replied, voice laced with quiet mockery. "That sounded like a man running away from his wife."
"You don’t know anything about my marriage," I hissed.
"I know enough to see when a woman is being left to face everything alone."
The words hit hard. My heart started hamring faster.
"I don’t want to talk to you right now," I said, but my voice lacked conviction.
"I know." He took another slow step closer. "But I’m here anyway."
The air between us grew thick and charged.
"I tried calling you earlier," he added.
"You shouldn’t have."
"I needed to know if you were okay, Reina."
A bitter laugh bubbled out of . "You don’t get to care about like that. Not when you’re the one complicating everything."
His eyes sharpened, dark and intense.
"Don’t I?"
The question hung heavily in the cool night air.
The wind picked up, pressing Paolo’s shirt against my curves. I felt exposed. Vulnerable. Seen.
"I should go back inside," I whispered, but my feet refused to move.
Donico closed the distance between us with deliberate slowness. He stopped just inches away, close enough that I could feel the heat radiating from his body.
"Reina," he murmured, my na sounding dangerously intimate on his lips.
His hand lifted slowly, giving every opportunity to pull away.
I didn’t.
His warm fingers gently cupped my cheek, thumb brushing away a fresh tear. The touch sent unwanted sparks racing across my skin.
"Don’t..." I whispered weakly.
But he leaned in anyway.
The world seed to stop completely.
His lips t mine in a deep, hungry kiss. There was no hesitation — only raw need. His hand slid to the back of my neck, pulling closer as he kissed harder, tasting like he had been waiting for this exact mont.
For one dizzying, devastating second, I kissed him back, lost in the familiar heat of Donico’s mouth while my husband’s shirt still clung to my body and the pregnancy test waited inside like a silent accusation.
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