He Asked For Space I Left With His Baby Chapter 02
“Medicine isn’t the only answer.”
I looked at Roman. “She needs someone who actually cares. Someone who will stay and make her feel safe.”
Vanessa’s cheeks flushed. “Nora, that’s not what I meant.”
Roman’s face darkened. “You’ve been angry ever since I left for Sardinia. It was business. What did you want, a minute-by-minute itinerary?”
Two weeks ago, it had been our anniversary.
I’d spent days preparing the meal myself—his favorite wine, his favorite dessert.
Even the vintage watch I’d commissioned months ago had finally arrived.
I waited until well past midnight, but he never came home.
Instead, I saw an update on Vanessa’s PicShare.
She was standing beside Roman at the DeLuca estate in Sardinia.
The caption read: *Safe because you’re here.*
When I called him, his tone was cool and composed.
“It was family business. There wasn’t time to explain. We have an anniversary every year; this meeting was a one-time thing. I thought you’d understand the difference.”
Then he added, “Stop making my schedule your entire life. You need to get one of your own.”
Something inside me finally broke. “Is that how it’s always going to be? No matter what happens, I’ll always come last?”
A long silence stretched between us before Roman sighed. “We’ll talk about this when I get back.”
The call ended.
That same night, I signed a contract with a company in Dublin. The recruiter looked at me, surprised.
“You’re moving abroad? Does your boyfriend know? That’s a huge decision.”
I signed my name. “I don’t need anyone’s approval.”
Months earlier, I had asked Roman if I should take a role in the family’s investment arm or keep running the foundation.
He hadn’t even looked up from his work. “It’s your life. Make your own decision.”
Yet he had personally spent hours teaching Vanessa how to navigate the family business.
He introduced her to every captain, every advisor, every ally she would ever need.
He was always telling me I relied on him too much.
When I tried to share good news, he barely glanced up from the reports on his desk.
When I asked him for a ride, he reminded me that his schedule didn’t revolve around me.
When I wanted to go to family dinners with him, he told me I needed a life outside of our relationship.
I used to think that was just Roman DeLuca.
Quiet. Guarded. A man who was hard to love.
I believed that if I just stayed long enough, one day I would become the exception.
Then Vanessa, my younger half-sister, came back into my life.
We’d never been close.
After our mother died, she had nowhere else to go.
I was the one who asked Roman to help her.
I expected him to say no. Instead, he agreed immediately.
And before I knew it, she had become the exception I had spent years trying to be.
She complained about a fight with another woman at the estate, and he listened with endless patience.
She mentioned a late-night craving for dessert, and he drove across the city to get it for her himself.
At family gatherings, he made a point of introducing her.
“This is Vanessa. Look after her.”
Whenever I confronted him, Roman would just frown.
“She’s just a kid. Are you actually jealous of her? Stop looking for problems.”
A kid. She was only three years younger than me.
Every excuse I’d ever made for him—he’s emotionally distant; he’s too busy; he doesn’t know how to show affection—crumbled, one by one. I finally saw the truth.
He was perfectly capable of tenderness. It just wasn’t for me.
Maybe that was for the best.
After my surgery tomorrow, I would leave Boston.
Roman would never know I had walked away carrying his child.
My phone rang. It was Mia.
“Nora, I’m coming over tonight. I’ll stay with you after the operation. I know the doctor said it’s not serious, but you’re pregnant. You shouldn’t go through any of this alone.”
My grip tightened on the phone.
“Mia—”
She lowered her voice. “Have you decided when you’re going to tell Roman? At the anniversary dinner?”
I didn’t answer, because I didn’t know anymore.
“Anyway, you’d better get the guest room ready. Your favorite babysitter is moving in.”
“I had it cleaned twice. I even bought you new—”
The bedroom door flew open.
The words died in my throat.