His Dirty Promises

by Fiona Murphy

  “Hmm, I guess. You are pretty good at apologizing.”

  “I try. We’ll focus on the wedding. I got a few wedding planners you can interview. Then this weekend you and Alicia can go shopping for a wedding dress.”

  “You have all the answers.”

  “For you. Let’s take this basket to bed, these cats are driving me crazy and I want to be able to focus on driving you crazy.”

  “Sounds good to me.”

  18

  Bethany

  “You look like a fairy princess in your dress. Dante is going to lose it. I wonder if he’ll cry.” Alicia sighs.

  “Smart going for an empire waist. Monique Lhuillier is the absolute best at designing for a plus-size woman’s body. What’s she like?” Lydia asks as she adjusts my veil.

  “So nice and sweet. Dante embarrassed the hell out of me, calling her and upping the price over and over until she gave in. When I met her I thought she might still be mad, she thought it was hilarious. She explained she worried her people wouldn’t have enough time to complete the dress. But with more money it enabled her to pay them for the overtime it would take. It is hard to believe it went from fabric to a dress in five weeks. Don’t tell Dante, but I’m glad he didn’t let me pick one of the dresses off the rack I didn’t really love.”

  “This is what I needed today. It will get me through the ridiculous wedding tomorrow.” Alicia says as she spreads out the train.

  “Enzo is really going through with it?” Lydia sighs—she knows the answer. “The gossip running around the city about Sheila is insane. She’s pissing off a lot of people. Is Enzo paying attention at all?”

  “Enzo isn’t paying attention to anything or anyone. He’s also been out of town more days than he’s been in it for the last month to settle business for him to take the two weeks off for their honeymoon. Cesare and Dante discussed, again, whether or not they should talk to him, but they don’t want to make things worse. Right now things between Enzo and Cesare are really tense.” Alicia shakes her head as she rubs her temples.

  “Yeah, Dante is afraid if they say anything more it will push Enzo away from all of us. He’s trying to focus on the plus that there’s an airtight prenup, and let the rest come what will.”

  Lydia’s eye brows go up in question. “You never said, is Dante asking you to sign a prenup?”

  I blush as I remember when I asked him if he wanted me to. I was more than willing. “No, he said the better to make sure if I tried to divorce him it will drag on forever, until he can figure out how to fix what he fucked up.”

  “He’s so cute. I signed one for Decker because I wanted to shut his father up. Then the day after we got married Decker shredded it and sent it to his father. Men are weird sometimes.”

  “Very, Dante has bought half a dozen baby girl dresses. When I told him I’m convinced it’s a boy, he asked if it would be a bad thing to put a dress on him if it is a boy, because it’s not like he’ll remember it since he’s a baby.” Alicia and Lydia laugh. “Okay, laugh now, but he is serious. He keeps buying dresses; I don’t think there’s any way all of them would get worn before the baby grew out of them even if it were a girl.”

  “So you’re letting Dante buy stuff now? You guys talking names yet?” Lydia’s eyes are soft, concerned.

  “Yeah, once I passed the twelve-week mark last week the fear is fading. It hasn’t gone away completely, I swear that book shouldn’t be called What to Expect; it should be called All the Ways Your pregnancy Can Become a Nightmare.” We all shudder at the memory. “For now, though, we’re going to wait to do the whole decorating the nursery thing until after the ultrasound when we’ll find out the sex. Dante is more relaxed with the whole planning and everything, which is nice to take things day by day.”

  Alicia’s arms go around me. “He’s the sweetest thing. He calls me almost every day to ask if there’s something he should be doing and what you might need.”

  “He admitted it the other night when I wondered aloud how he always managed to do the right thing. I was a little annoyed at you for not telling me, but I don’t really care. I’m lucky he cares enough to do it.”

  There’s a knock at the door. “Need any help?”

  Oops. “No, thank you. I’ll be right out. We have been in here for a little while. Help me out of this. I’m craving some cheese sticks.”

  ***

  Dante

  I hear the front door open, followed by Bethany greeting our menagerie of pets, which now includes another kitten, this one a ginger named Ginny, and a six-year-old goofball Great Pyrenees named Mac who loves the kittens, maybe a little too much. After a few too many swipes of Mac’s nose, I had to put up perches along the walls for the cats to climb up to get some peace from the dog.

  Looking around the room, I wonder if I maybe went overboard. The gasp from the doorway says I did. “Oh my god. How did you do this so fast? I’ve been gone for four hours.”

  With a shrug I try to gauge if she’s mad. “I wanted to see if the store had any cute boy clothes, then a sales assistant got ahold of me...” I’m not a hundred percent sure how I agreed to all of this. Everything looked so cute.

  She goes over to the crib, running a hand along the rail. “This is something I thought we would pick out together. And I hate that stroller, it’s ugly. We agreed to wait until after we came back from our trip.”

  Our honeymoon will happen aboard the new yacht I bought after our wedding on it. Because of the heat we’ll be sailing around the North Sea, England, Ireland, along the coasts of the Netherlands, Germany and up to Denmark. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I’ll send it back tomorrow. We’ll wait until we come back and go shopping together.” Shaking my head, I did go overboard. “I really am sorry. I’ll get this right eventually.”

  Bethany giggles as she comes toward me. I pull her into my arms and she snuggles close. “Maybe by the time we get to our third.”

  Relief floods through me; it’s not something we’ve talked about. “Our third? How many are we going to have?”

  “I’m thinking three, any more sounds like too many. I also would like to go back to work before I’m in my fifties.”

  “You want to stay home?” I was wondering, unsure how to broach the subject.

  “Well, I don’t want my kids coming home to an empty house or worse, to a babysitter. I’m not going to say I’m not already conflicted. I worked hard to get my degree. To barely use it before I give it up to raise a family, when I thought I wouldn’t have kids for another five or six years, was a little hard to reconcile.”

  I’m glad we’re thinking along the same lines, our kids having a full-time parent always there for them. “I want our kids to have someone at home too, but it doesn’t have to be you. I’m more than happy to stay home. I’ve already worked more than my fill. We have enough money neither of us ever has to work again, and we can still keep our children’s children in this lifestyle. Che will understand, we’re both looking through our people to select a right hand we can depend on so we aren’t working as many hours. He wants to only work three days a week at the office and the rest from home. I was thinking of doing the same thing, but if you want to keep working I can stay home.”

  Damn, the smile on her face has my cock hard. Her arms go around my neck. “You are too damn sweet. You make my teeth ache. I want to stay home, I love the idea of you being home more though. Something tells me your kids are going to be a handful, so I’ll need all the help I can get.”

  “If you change your mind anytime, whether it’s once the baby comes or a year or two down the line, say the word. Nothing is set is stone for us.”

  “Duly noted. Now it’s time for you take me to bed and make it up to me after all this shopping you did today without me.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  ***

  Bethany

  Ugh, this wedding is giving me a headache. The cloying scent of stargazer lilies numbering in the hundreds is overpowering. This chair is killing my back.
I shift to ease the ache. Alicia’s eyes meet mine and we both sigh. It’s almost eight o’clock, the church ceremony was at one, the reception here at the Drake Hotel started at two, as far as I’m concerned we’ve put in our time. I look around for Dante, he’s already at my back.

  “You’re ready to go.” It’s not a question.

  “Please.” I look to see Cesare is helping Alicia out of her chair.

  Dante’s arm is around me. “They’re leaving right now. Let’s get out of here.”

  “They aren’t doing the seeing off thing?”

  Dante shakes his head. “I’ll explain in the car.”

  Outside the hotel Alicia and I hug our goodbyes. Dante has the door open for me. I’m barely inside before he’s getting in beside me. “What’s going on?”

  “Sheila pitched a fit because of some stupid shit the caterer did. She fucking threw a plate at the woman, barely missed her. Enzo and her got into it.”

  I close my eyes as I slump into my seat. Dang my back is still hurting. At least it’s a dull ache now. “Poor Enzo, this is already a disaster.”

  “You okay, sweetheart?”

  “Just a headache from those lilies and my back from the chair.”

  “Maybe an early night tonight?”

  “Yes, please.”

  I’m crashing hard; I come awake as Dante puts me on our bed. But can’t stay awake while he undresses me.

  It’s a dream, I know it’s a dream, only it feels so real. Wake up, wake up. I come awake with a gasp. I sit up and yank the covers off me. Oh god oh god. There’s no thought, I scream for Dante.

  “What? What’s the matter—oh god.” He sees the blood too.

  ***

  Dante

  Bethany shifts in her sleep, her forehead knotted with tension. The nurse promised the shot would help Bethany rest the way she needed to. At first Bethany didn’t want the shot, but she gave in as her sobs shook her body until she hurt. While Bethany might be asleep, she’s not resting. Her hand clutches mine even in sleep. Studying her hand in mine, I trace the fine veins along the back of her hand, remembering the nurse having a hard time finding a vein for the IV to combat the dehydration Bethany was experiencing.

  I hope to hell she forgives me for urging her to have the emergency room doctor do the D&C and not taking her home when it was over like she asked. There was so much blood and it wouldn’t stop, and they wanted to send us home like that? Then the fucker tried to tell me it could take a week for everything to pass out of Bethany and to collect it to take it in to the doctor. What the fucking hell kind of evil bastards were these people?

  No, bullshit. I wasn’t going to allow Bethany to suffer through all of that. He offered the D&C to Bethany, and when he said it, it was as if he struck her. I hated myself for even pressing it. But when I warned her it could take another week for the bleeding to stop, she clung even tighter to me and said yes.

  I’m aware the doctor and nurses were annoyed with me for not leaving Bethany’s side, but I don’t give a fuck. She needed me; I’m not going anywhere. My phone buzzes in my pocket, it’s the front desk. They are confirming the okay for the store delivery men to pick up the stroller and the crib Bethany hated. Anguish fills me all over again. I respond yes, it’s okay.

  Then I call Claudine. I hate bothering her on her day off, but I can’t take talking to Che right now. “Dante? Is everything all right?”

  “No, everything is... I’m at the hospital right now with Bethany. Can you please go in and clean out all the stuff from the room? Turn it back into a guest room so Bethany doesn’t have to—”

  “I’m sorry, dear. I’ll take care of it.”

  “Our bedroom too, there’s blood.”

  “I’ll take care of everything. You take care of Bethany, leave the rest to me.”

  Hanging up, I think of calling Che but I can’t right now. I can’t say the words yet. Not yet.

  Bethany was right, so fucking right. The idea of walking into the room filled with baby items that wouldn’t be used. I squeeze my eyes tight. There I was pushing her out of her comfort zone. Was there some sort of feminine intuition at play? She was relieved, when she reached the twelve-week mark. I felt the surprise inside her at the same time. When we lay together in bed after hitting twelve weeks, she said it seemed like a dream and she wasn’t sure it was real. I understood—a part of me felt the same way.

  Only now it’s no longer a dream; it’s a nightmare we aren’t going to wake up from.

  ***

  Bethany

  As Dante opens the door, we’re met by meows and whimpering from Mac. The noise is welcome after the quiet for the last few hours. Dante’s voice is barely above a hushed whisper every time he speaks to me. Going down the hall, I stop at the door, keep going, don’t open the door, but I open the door and push it open. I blink as I see it’s back to the guest room it was before Dante started filling it a few days ago. Thank god. I turn away back toward our room.

  I flash to the blood in the bed and stop. Only to realize the bed is made up with a blush pink comforter instead of the usual teal one, or even the red one we use while the other is cleaned. Right now I’m grateful for the bossy know-it-all Dante. I climb onto the bed without pulling the covers back. I’m surprised at the soft fur brushing against me as Mittens investigates me. Looking up, Dante shrugs.

  “You need to eat. Please let me make you something.”

  “If you eat too.”

  “Okay, I’ll eat too. What do you want?”

  “I don’t care.”

  He nods. “I’ll be right back.”

  When he leaves I pat the bed for Mac. Mac looks like he doesn’t believe me; I pat the bed again and make kissing noises. He jumps on the bed with a happy snuffling. I cuddle him and he rests his head on my stomach. My empty stomach. I blink back the tears. God, I cannot cry anymore, I can’t. My head is killing me and it just fucking hurts.

  Dante is back with a plate and two forks, an omelet and a tray. He sighs. “Mac, get down.”

  Mac looks to me. “Sorry, Mac.” Groaning his displeasure at Dante, the dog jumps off the bed then lays down on the floor on my side of the bed. Dante sets the tray down over my legs then sits down beside me. It’s already cut in half.

  Mittens knows better than to try, but Ginny gets close to the plate. Dante pushes her gently away. “Pancetta, tomatoes, mozzarella.”

  “It looks good.” It does, but I’m not hungry. I promised though so I take a bite. Without tasting it I eat my half and Dante eats his. When we’re done he takes the tray back into the kitchen. By the time he’s back I’m already lying down, desperate for the oblivion of sleep. He looks down at me. I hate seeing the sadness in his eyes. “Can you please hold me?”

  He moves fast; his arms are around me, holding me tight. “I’m sorry. I am so sorry,” he whispers into my hair. “I don’t know what else to say. Tell me what you need and I’ll do it.”

  “There’s nothing for you to be sorry for. This is my fault. I was the one dumb enough to get pregnant in the first place, then I was still taking birth control pills. I thought a baby was a bad idea. How could I think that?”

  “Hey, shh, it’s not your fault. There’s nothing you could have done. One in four pregnancies end in a miscarriage. This is our turn.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Che schooled me, then I did some reading and was freaked the fuck out for a solid week. It happens, it’s no one’s fault. You can’t blame yourself, sweetheart, I won’t let you.”

  I don’t want to argue with him. My throat is too tight to let any words out anyway. Squeezing my eyes closed, I reach desperately for sleep.

  ***

  Bethany

  “Come on, sweetheart, come into the living room and have some dinner. You haven’t eaten since the omelet almost eight hours ago.”

  I shake my head. I don’t want to get out of bed. It’s safe in here. “Go away.” The moment the words are out of my mouth they taste bitter. I don�
�t mean it. But I don’t take them back. I bury my head in the pillow; why was I awake? I don’t want to be awake. Dante sighs loud, then he walks away. Good, I don’t want to eat. I don’t want to talk, I want to sleep.

  I’m floating in and out of sleep; the smallest sounds wake me and I’m getting frustrated when the lights go on. “Turn off the lights, damn it.”

  “You need to eat. Sit up and eat or I’ll leave the lights on until you do.”

  “Go away, leave me alone.”

  “No, I’m not going away, I’m not leaving you alone. Sit up and eat, damn it, or I’ll tan your damn hide.”

  Asshole. I hate him. I sit up and take the stupid plate, then I throw it across the room. “Go away!”

  One minute I’m yelling, the next I’m over Dante’s shoulder being walked down the hall. He sets me down on the couch gently, I push him away. “I hate you. I’m not hungry.”

  Mac starts barking up a storm at Dante. The sound shocks me—Mac never barks. What the hell is the matter with me? I blink and the damn tears are back. Fuck. Dante’s arms go around me. “It’s okay. I know it hurts. It’s okay to cry.”

  After I choke down the minestrone soup and some bread, Dante carries me into the bathroom and settles me in the tub. We lie in the tub, not talking, just holding each other. Maybe an hour later, we’re in bed. Only now I’ve had too much sleep, and no matter how hard I try I can’t fall asleep again. Finally Dante does; it’s a deep sleep, but he’s tense even now. A pang of guilt hits me—I know he didn’t sleep last night. He sat up all night long in the uncomfortable recliner holding my hand.

  What does this mean? What do we do now? Where do we go from here? He’s not mad now, but he’s going to grow to resent me. I had one job, one, and I couldn’t do it. I couldn’t keep our baby safe. It was those damn birth control pills, it was me being so fucking stupid and not realizing on three days out of a seven-day trip I missed a pill. I did this to us by screwing up in the first place. This whole thing is my fault. Dante was so happy, so damn excited and now I’ve hurt him, taken his dream away from him. I don’t deserve him, I never really did, and he’s going to figure that out now.