The Unwanted Wife (Unwanted #1)(61)

“It’s the baby,” she whispered in fear. “I think the baby’s coming.”

“No, no, no.” The naked panic and fear in his eyes did nothing to alleviate Theresa’s own terror. “He can’t be coming now. He’s nearly a month early! Are you sure?”


“I’ve been cramping all day but I thought it was due to stress,” Theresa moaned after the pain had subsided. “But now I think I’m having contractions.”

“Okay, it’s okay,” he soothed, automatically gathering her trembling body into a hug. “We’ll be fine. We have to get you to the hospital.”




Theresa had argued, begged, cajoled, and attempted to reason with him, but Sandro had refused point-blank to defer his position as her coach to Lisa. In the end, Lisa had declined to go in to the hospital with her, saying that it was best for Theresa to have her original coaching partner with her. Shocked and hurt by what she felt was an unforgivable betrayal, Theresa had refused to look, or even talk, to her cousin while Sandro shepherded her out to his car. Lisa had seemed to be cheerfully and deliberately oblivious to Theresa’s pointed and rather childish silent treatment, promising that she and Rick would be at the hospital soon.

“She did what she thought was best, cara.” Sandro tried to placate her en route to the hospital. She turned her head and stared out at the passing scenery, scared and angry and not really in the mood to be comforted by him. “She knew that I would have insisted and we’d have just wasted time arguing futilely about it.”

“I wanted somebody I trusted in there with me,” she said, keeping her eyes glued on the road ahead. He didn’t respond to that, but from the corner of her eye she saw his hands tighten on the steering wheel and knew that she’d scored a direct hit. The rest of the journey went by quickly, and before she knew it, she was being admitted into the elite private maternity clinic that Sandro had arranged for her months ago. She’d had only one contraction en route but it had nearly sent Sandro off the road in a panic.

Still it was hours before anything more interesting than that happened. The doctor confirmed that she was indeed in labor but reassured them that it was perfectly normal for women to go into labor a few weeks early. They were taking extra precautions because of her health issues during the pregnancy, but for someone whose pregnancy had been fraught with drama, Theresa’s labor was pretty boring aside from the intense periods of pain. Her obstetrician monitored her condition carefully and weathered Sandro’s demanding, panicked questions with admirable calm. Her contractions seemed to leave Sandro more wrung out than they did her, and he wasn’t dealing with it very well.

About five hours after her admission, Theresa found herself glaring up at her hovering husband in frustration.

“For God’s sake, go and get yourself some coffee or something, you’re driving me up the wall!”

“I won’t leave you. What if you have another contraction? What if your water breaks and they rush you into the delivery room? What if there are complications?” he asked hoarsely, his eyes dilating more with each anxious question. Theresa rolled her eyes in exasperation.

“I doubt any of those things will happen in the two minutes it would take you to leave the room and get a cup of coffee, Sandro,” she sighed impatiently.

“They could,” he insisted stubbornly.

“Unlikely.” He didn’t respond, merely continued to sit by her bedside. They were both silent for a few minutes.

“Why are you here?” Theresa asked tiredly.

“Because this is where I want to be,” he responded, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

“Why do you want to be here?” she persisted.

“You’re my wife, cara. You’re having my baby.” He reached out and covered one of her hands with his. “I belong here.”

“You don’t belong here,” she whispered hoarsely.

“I do.”

“You have another life, a family that wants you to come home, a woman you love and who loves you. You don’t have to be here, Sandro.” She shook her head tiredly, tears seeping from beneath her eyelids.

“I have this life, with you. It’s the only one that matters to me,” he insisted. “I have a wife who loved me once, and who maybe…someday…would dare to love and trust me again? I don’t have to be here…but I want to be here.”

“Too many things have happened between us. More than two years of pain,” she whispered rawly, and his hand contracted around hers. “I can’t go back to being the naive girl who loved you with all her heart.”

“But maybe…the woman who replaced the girl could find a way to love the flawed man she’d once placed on a pedestal he had no business being on?”

“You’ve hurt me so many times,” she confessed, opening her eyes and meeting his full on. He flinched slightly beneath the accusatory glare.


“I know.”

“In so many ways.”

“I know.”

“Why should I forgive you and love you again? Why should I open up my heart to a man who could easily crush it in the palms of his hands?”

“You probably shouldn’t.” He smiled bitterly. “But I wish you would.”

“I can’t,” she whispered, tears drenching her pale cheeks, and he nodded slightly, reaching out to wipe at the tears.