My fury threatened to spill over but when Valentina entered my office, her pale skin immediately distracted me from my turmoil. She looked sick. She had been feeling off for a while now but I hadn’t really paid much attention, still determined to keep my distance. Now my worry overruled my determination.

“You look pale. Are you still not feeling well? Maybe you should talk to the doc.”

She shook her head. “No, I…” Her eyes widened and she rushed out of my office. I quickly followed her toward the guest bathroom. She hung over the toilet and quickly flushed when I stepped inside. She tried to stand but swayed, so I grabbed her arm to stop her from falling.

“Valentina?”

She stumbled toward the sink and cleaned herself. Sweat glistened on her forehead. She didn’t look well. Had my dismissal led to her weakened state?

“I’m fine.”

She was lying. I followed her upstairs to our bedroom and touched her waist. “You know I hate it when you’re keeping secrets. Don’t make it a habit.”

Valentina swallowed and pressed a palm against her belly. Everything seemed to stand still when I realized what the gesture meant, and suddenly her constant sickness made sense.

“I’m pregnant.”

Valentina waited.

My insides were a raging ocean. The small sailboat of my joy at the news was soon tossed aside by the thunderous waves of my sadness, guilt, and anger. Carla and I had been trying to become parents. It had been her greatest wish, and I had been unable to give it to her. She’d died without ever holding her child in her arms, without ever experiencing the joys of motherhood.

And Valentina was pregnant after such a short time. Without a struggle. Without heartbreak. “Pregnant?” I asked.

“Yes. We never used protection, so I don’t know why you’re acting so shocked. Wasn’t an heir one of the reasons why you married me?”

“That was the reason why my father wanted me to marry again.”

“So you don’t want kids?”

“Is it mine?” Carla had assured me that her doctor hadn’t found anything obviously wrong with her. I had never gone to a doctor myself.

Shock and acute pain crossed Valentina’s face as she backed away from me.

“Answer my question.”

“Of course, it is your child. You’re the only man I’ve ever slept with. How can you even ask such a question? How dare you?”

Carla wouldn’t have lied to me. She had no reason to. Doubt nagged at me, and that only fueled my fury further. I didn’t want to doubt my late wife. “I’m not keeping track of everything you do, and there are many men who frequent the casino that wouldn’t say no to a night with you. You’ve made a habit out of keeping things from me. Do I have to remind you of Frank?”

“How can you even say something like that? I’ve never given you any reason to doubt me like that. I’m loyal to this marriage. There’s a difference between not telling you about Frank and cheating on you.”

“My first wife and I tried for years to get pregnant. It never worked. You and I have been married for less than four months and you’re already pregnant.”

“I don’t know why you act as if that’s impossible. If your first wife was infertile, then that’s your explanation. Have you never consulted with a doctor? Or did you think it was you who was infertile?”

“We never went to a doctor to find out why we couldn’t conceive. Not that it is any of your business. I won’t discuss my first marriage with you.”

“Too bad. We’re discussing it now. I know why you didn’t want to find out. You didn’t want to know the truth, because you worried it would make you less of a man if it was your fault that your wife couldn’t get pregnant. But now we know it wasn’t your fault. It was Carla who was infertile.”

Anger surged through me. “I told you I didn’t want to talk about Carla.”

“Why not? Because you still love her? Because you can’t move on? I’m sorry you lost Carla, but I’m your wife now.”

Valentina was right. Deep down I knew I needed to stop clinging to the past, but in this moment, I couldn’t. Anger at myself bubbled up, stronger than any anger I’d ever felt toward Valentina.

“I’m so sick of you treating me like a whore. You ignore me by day and come to me at night for sex. And now you accuse me of cheating on you? Sometimes I think you hurt me on purpose to keep me at arm’s length. When will you finally move on? Your wife has been dead for four years; it’s time you stop pitying yourself and realize that life goes on. When will you stop clinging to the memory of a dead woman and realize there’s someone in your life who wants to be with you?”

I stalked toward her, furious that she threw this at me. “Don’t talk about her.”

“She’s dead and she won’t come back, Dante.”

Acute pain pierced my chest at her words, making me want to lash out at everything around me. “Stop talking about her.”

Fear flashed in Valentina’s eyes. Fear of me, her own husband, but I was unable to apologize, unable to back down.

She raised her chin. “Or what? Do you want to hit me? Go ahead. It can’t possibly be worse than the knife you thrust into my back by accusing me of carrying another man’s child.” I was a brutal man, there was no doubt about it, but hitting Valentina was the last thing I’d ever do.

“You’re so busy honoring her memory and protecting the image of her you have in your mind that you don’t realize how badly you’re treating me. You lost your first wife through no fault of your own, but you will be losing me because you can’t let go of her.”

I should have apologized, but instead I watched Valentina move out of our bedroom.

It took me weeks to ask Valentina to move back to our bedroom. An apology still didn’t pass my lips, even if it would have been the right thing to do. Valentina was pregnant with my child and I was unable to admit to my mistake, unable to beg her for forgiveness like any good husband would have done. It still hurt to think that Carla hadn’t told me the truth about her infertility. Ines had told me after I’d admitted to my argument with Valentina in a moment of weakness. Carla had worried I’d regard her as less if I found out she couldn’t become pregnant, not to mention my father’s reaction if he’d ever found out.

Despite my many faults, Valentina returned to our bedroom, fighting for our marriage, a thing I was still incapable of doing the way she deserved it. I tried to show her my willingness to do my part by removing Carla’s belongings from the old bedroom. It felt like a betrayal of her but at the same time, I could feel a weight lifting off my heart with every piece of Carla that I carried away. The past had held power over me for too long. I needed to let it go. I couldn’t lose Valentina.

Giovanni came over in the afternoon for our weekly meeting, but fifteen minutes before our agreed time. He hugged Valentina tightly, kissing her cheek, and whispered something in her ear that made her smile, which died when she looked at me.

Guilt always caught me by surprise, which it shouldn’t, since it was a common feeling around my wife lately.

With another tender look at Valentina, Giovanni finally headed my way and followed me toward the office. He had trouble keeping his excitement at bay. Once we were in the office, he gripped my hand and squeezed. “Congratulations. I’m so happy for you and Val.”