“Huh? Do you think Carlo will want me to marry someone someday?” She seems to consider the idea.
“No, I don’t think he will. He’s… different.” The Carlo I know was always against arranged marriages. Why he agreed to ours, I still haven’t figured out. “Why do you call him Carlo?” I ask her.
“Because we just met. Not that long ago. It’s just… I don’t know.” Her brows furrow in the middle. “Are you going to be like Cinderella’s evil stepmother?”
Her question slaps me in the face.Stepmother.Holy shit, I’m someone’s stepmother.I don’t know anything about being a mother. I didn’t even have one of my own. What am I supposed to do? Shit. I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready to be a wife, let alone a mother.
Carlo walks back into the kitchen. “What happened?” he asks, looking from where I’m still frozen to the spot and then over to Jazzy.
“I… I need a minute.” The spatula falls from my hand as I run out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom. My feet pace up and down the length of the room. My heart races.
I don’t know what I’m doing here. What the hell did I get myself into? Did my father know he was signing me up for an insta-family? Did he even care?
“What’s going on in your head?”
My neck snaps up at the sound of Carlo’s voice. “I can’t be a mother. I don’t know how. I’m twenty-one years old. I can’t be someone’s mother,” I tell him.
He lifts a questioning brow. “Are you pregnant?”
“What? No.” I shake my head.
“Then why the fuck are you worried about being a mother?”
“You have a child, Carlo. She just asked if I was going to be an evil stepmother.”
“That’s right.Ihave a child. Jazzy is mine. No one else’s. You are not her mother, Antonia. She has a mother. She doesn’t need another one,” he says calmly.
“Who is she?” I ask before I can stop myself.
“Who?” he says.
“Her mother? Who is she?”
“I don’t know.” He shrugs.
“I might not be the brightest, Carlo, but even I’m not stupid enough to believe you don’t know who your daughter’s mother is.”
“Jazzy was dropped off at the reception desk downstairs a few weeks ago. I’ve been looking for her mother ever since,” he tells me.
“She…” I shake my head. “Why would someone do that?”
“Fuck if I know. But like I said, we might be married, but Jazzy is mine. She doesn’t need another parent.” With that, he turns and walks out.
He doesn’t want me to parent his child. I’m not sure if I’m offended or relieved. Don’t get me wrong… she seems like a great kid. But surely if I had anything to do with raising her, she’dturn out with more issues than a shrink could fix. I don’t know anything about kids.
I sit down on the bed, pick up my phone, and scroll through my socials. I don’t know what to do. Should I go back out there? Pretend I didn’t just have the freakout of the century over becoming someone’s stepmother? Or hide out in here all day?
I need to go back home and pack some of my things. I avoided doing it all week, but now that I’m here, I want my own stuff. I borrowed one of Carlo’s shirts this morning, and all I can smell is him. I wish I could say I hated it, but I don’t. Which is the problem. I cannot afford to let him worm his way back into my heart. It won’t survive being crushed again.
After a few minutes, my growling stomach gets the better of me and I walk back out to the kitchen.
“Sit down. They’re almost done,” Carlo says.
“Thanks.” I lower myself next to Jazzy, who is already digging into a stack of pancakes covered in syrup. “I have to go home and pack some things today,” I say, trying to break the silence.
“I’ve put Hunter and Greg on your detail,” Carlo tells me.
“I don’t need a detail.” I argue. “And I have Brian.”
