Filed to story: Submitting to My Bestie’s Daddy Read Online >>???
I had no doubt anxiety and unanswered questions whirled around the minds of the men, each wondering what had caused her departure, but only Olivia and I knew for sure, and we weren’t going to give it up.
No matter how much damage she had caused our relationship, she was still our surrogate, the woman Olivia and I had chosen to carry our child, and we had to respect her privacy as much as we could.
They left in a hurry, and I didn’t envy them with the massive storm pouring outside. Olivia and I curled up on the couch, our shared fear of what was going to happen to our family, of whether Elena and the baby were safe or not, causing us to cling to one another.
All of the hurt and misunderstandings, the resentment and arguments–none of it mattered anymore. No matter what happened, we were a team. We had to face our challenges together as a united front.
So, as the long day stretched into night, I held Olivia in my arms, waiting for any kind of news from the teams out searching for Elena and our baby. Every so often, I would tuck my head into the crevice of Olivia’s neck and whisper to her how much I loved her.
I would never let her question that ever again.
*Olivia*
I paced back and forth in front of the unlit fireplace in our living room-turned-war room. I paused, gnawing on my thumbnail, and looked at the troops we’d gathered.
Gabriele was bent over his cell phone, whispering rapid Italian along the line. At least, I thought it was Italian. With worry clouding my mind, the second language kept slipping through my fingers, and I couldn’t make out a word of his conversation.
Alessandro claimed a whole couch for himself and covered it in paperwork and laptops. He leaned over and typed something into my laptop, which I’d happily offered up. The school logo and smiling coffee cup stickers on the front seemed oddly grisly at the moment.
Dahlia bustled back into the room with another tray of coffee and more potent energy drinks. She didn’t have the sort of connections that let her aid in the search concretely, but she’d turned over her social media passwords in case she and Elena shared any mutual friends I didn’t, and she’d been ferrying in caffeine non-stop ever since.
I could hardly remember the last time I’d seen my friend so serious. She paused for just a moment to squeeze my arm as she left.
On the far end of the room, Gio shuffled through all the documents he and Gabriele had collected over the course of their multiple background checks on Elena. Occasionally, he called out a detail that caused Gabriele or Alessandro to dive deeper into their research. They had plenty of boots on the ground while they were in here digging.
Tears pressed against the backs of my eyes. I felt totally useless. It was my baby out there, and I couldn’t find him to save my life without all these wonderful people around me. What kind of mom let someone run away with their child? I hadn’t been able to protect him, but with the help of my friends and Gio’s coworkers, we’d find him. We had to.
Alessandro leaped up suddenly. “Got a lead. Be back.”
He only spared enough time to grab his phone from the pile before disappearing out the door. Hope and fear warred in my heart. Was it a good lead, or was he chasing any thread in case it offered some clue? I wanted to believe this man, practically my brother, could save the day, but I had a hard time believing anybody could. My mind kept going to the worse case scenario, that I’d never see my baby.
Gabriele snapped his phone shut. “Three of our best noses are meeting for coffee on the other side of town. This seems the sort of problem better explained in person.”
“Go,” Gio snapped.
Gabriele nodded at him, then me, and departed as Alessandro had.
Suddenly, Gio and I were alone in the havoc of our living room. There were no sounds but the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner, and tears started to overwhelm me again.
All of my worst fears had come true. Every problem I’d predicted with surrogacy, with our relationship. Our baby was gone, and my husband was sitting on the far side of the room.
A strangled sob burst from my lips, and Gio was on his feet in an instant, crossing the room to be at my side. He wrapped his arms around me and pressed me into his chest.
Distantly, I remembered being angry, but all I wanted was to collapse into his arms. I grabbed his waist and cried.
After a moment, I realized he was shaking. I looked up into his face and found him drawn, his own eyes shining.
“I’m so sorry, carina,” he murmured. “This is all my fault.”
I shook my head and held him tighter. “No, no, no.”
He laughed bitterly. “You warned me. You were right. I let it go too far, and now this woman has disappeared with our baby.” His voice cracked on the final word, and I recognized the last hour’s distance for what it was–overwhelming guilt.
I tucked myself in closer to him. “It’s as much my fault. I picked her. I said we should do this. I pushed you, in the beginning, to let her into our lives. I can’t even help, and I’m going to be an awful mother if we ever do find her.”
“Don’t say that.” His voice was thick with unshed tears. “We’re going to find her, and you’re going to be the best mother. Don’t say ‘if.'”
I buried my head in his chest. I couldn’t stop worrying, couldn’t stop thinking about my what-ifs, but I didn’t have to tell him.
“I have half of Italy looking,” he said. “We will find her and the baby, and then I’ll make everything right.”
“That isn’t just your job,” I murmured. “You have to let me help.”
He pressed a kiss to my forehead. “Yes, carina. I’m sorry, so sorry. I will listen. I will let you help.”
I leaned up closer to him. “And I will stop jumping to conclusions. We have to face this together. Otherwise–” I stifled another sob. “Otherwise I don’t know if I’m getting through this at all.”
Gio lifted me off the ground, bringing my face up to his height. I wrapped my legs around his waist, felt the warmth of his body.
“Together,” he repeated. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.”
He leaned in and kissed me, the sort of kiss I’d been missing for weeks. I parted easily under his touch, gasping into his mouth, and he ran a hand delicately through my hair.
“There is nothing to do here,” he said when he pulled back. “And I will drive myself mad with worry without something to do.” He was sober now, after all of these hours, and I knew he felt compelled to take action.
I looked into his eyes and found heat in the depths of his blue gaze. I could think of something he could do here to keep himself busy. For a moment, I worried. What if something happened while we were in bed? What if we missed something because we sought comfort in each other?
I shook my head. I had worried myself into this situation. I could not worry my way out.
By way of answer, I claimed my husband’s mouth. I felt him begin walking underneath me, and the rocking motion ground my center against him. I leaned into the rhythm and let a fire start to build within me.
He carried me down the short hallway, past our sitting room, and into the bedroom, breaking apart for air only when absolutely necessary. He laid me down on the bed, and I marveled at him. He was only barely out of breath, and I knew it was more from the kissing than my weight.
“You’re amazing,” I murmured.
He smiled, but the expression was tinged with doubt. I leaned up on my elbows.
“I mean it,” I repeated. “You amaze me.”
He averted his gaze, and I sat fully up and put him between my legs. I undid the buttons on his shirt one by one, kissing each inch of exposed skin, before letting go of the sides and allowing it to fall open.
“Just look at you,” I said, following my own instructions happily.
He took my mouth with another kiss.
“What about you?” he asked.
He reached behind me and untied the knot of the halter-neck dress I was wearing. The fabric dropped away, exposing my braless chest.
He took each of my breasts in his hands and ran his thumbs over my nipples reverently. “I could look at you forever.”
I met his gaze. “I love you.”
He smiled. “I love you.” It was nice to hear him say that after I’d posed the question before only to have him leave the room.
