At last they climbed back into the sedan, laughing, and the car turned toward the highway heading out of the city. I looked up and recognized the direction. The safehouse.
So Ermanno could be this tender, this attentive, with another woman after all.
I stared until my eyes burned. Only then did I look away and give the order to my driver.
"Take me home."
"And not a word about today. To anyone."
On the ride back to the compound, I couldn't stop seeing it. Katarina's hand resting on her belly, that soft, glowing smile.
And then I thought of the fertility-suppressing poison Ermanno had been slipping me for three full years, disguised as protective medicine, and the grief was so thick I couldn't breathe.
Before today I had still been lying to myself. Even if Ermanno had deceived me about the medicine, it didn't mean he felt nothing for me. Maybe he simply didn't want children.
But just now, the way he'd looked at Katarina's belly. The way his voice had changed. He cared about that child.
I remembered something he'd said before our wedding. "Only two people who truly love each other should bring a life into this world together."