Page 263 of Ricardo

Because of me.

No.

Because of Harrison.

I try to remember Ricardo’s voice saying it.

Because of Harrison.

The toast turns heavy in my stomach.

I set it down.

Victoria does not push.

She eats a little fruit, then leans back, one hand resting lightly over her stomach. The gesture is unconscious. Protective.

My eyes stay there too long.

She notices.

I look away quickly, heat rising in my face even through the sickness.

The silence returns.

Then, suddenly, the question comes out of me.

“How did you know you were pregnant?”

Victoria goes very still.

I stare at the tea in my hands, horrified by myself, by the timing, by the fact that I said it out loud when I have barely even let the thought form in my own mind.

“I’m sorry,” I say quickly. “I don’t know why I asked that.”

Victoria does not answer right away.

When she does, her voice is gentle. “Do you want to know why I knew, or do you want to tell me why you’re asking?”

My throat closes.

I look down at my hands wrapped around the cup.

They are clean.

They still feel marked.

“I’ve been sick,” I say.

“I know.”

“No, I mean…” I stop and swallow. “Before last night. A little. On and off. I thought it was stress. Or the gala. Or not eating enough. Or eating the wrong thing. Or being in the car. It’s always easy to explain away.”

Victoria watches me carefully. I force myself to continue.

“I was tired. More than usual. And certain smells bothered me. Flowers, perfume. At the gala, I couldn't bring myself to drink any of the champagne. In the car, Dante noticed. He remembered I get carsick when I’m stressed.”

His name hurts to say.