Chapter 139 Just a Little Checkup
Valentina
“So,” Tess said, tucking a loose blonde strand behind her ear, “what are we doing today? What do you need me to do?”
I reached for my purse and sunglasses. “Your job is mostly going to be keeping me company. Running errands with me. Helping organize things around the house, the charities, social events. Some light admin here and there. And I always appreciate a second opinion when I shop.”
“Okay. That actually sounds… fun,” she said with a smile.
“Glad to hear it. Because today, we do have one stop to make.” I tossed my bag over my shoulder. “Doctor’s appointment.”
Her brow creased. “Oh. Is everything okay?”
I waved a hand. “Totally fine. Just a little checkup. Making sure everything’s functioning properly because Alessio—Matteo’s grandfather—is getting impatient for us to give him a great-grandchild.”
The waiting room was quiet when we arrived. Tess sat beside me, legs crossed, reading some magazine with a headline about celebrity divorces while I checked-in.
A nurse called my name, and I stood. “Be right back.”
“Good luck,” she whispered.
The exam room was cold, the paper crinkling beneath me as I lay back on the table. The doctor came in, gloves on, cheerful and professional. We went over everything—when the IUD was inserted, any symptoms or changes, and how long I’d been considering removal.
It didn’t take long. Five minutes, tops.
But damn, it pinched more than I remembered. Sharp pressure and a deep, aching cramp that made me grit my teeth. I didn’t make a sound, of course. But when I sat up afterward and swung my legs off the table, I had to take a breath before standing.
The doctor gave me a warm smile and handed me a bottle of water. “Some cramping is totally normal for the next day or two. Take it easy, okay?”
“Always do,” I said smoothly, though my abdomen was twisting in protest.
Tess stood up the second I came back into the waiting room. “Everything good?”
“Yep. Just peachy.”
By the time we got back to the house, I was cramping enough to want to stab someone. The ibuprofen hadn’t kicked in yet, and all I wanted was darkness, quiet, and maybe a hot pack pressed to my lower abdomen while I silently regretted having a uterus.
I waved Tess off when she offered to stay.
“I’m fine. Just need to lie down a bit,” I said. “Go take a break.”
She nodded, still walking on eggshells around me—but I didn’t blame her. I’d handed her the keys to the kingdom and warned her I’d slit her throat if she fumbled them. That kind of talk tends to stick.
I made it to my room, stripped down to a loose tee and panties, and curled under the blanket, pressing the soft cotton hard against my stomach. The pain wasn’t awful—but it was just sharp enough to be annoying, just real enough to remind me that decisions have consequences. Even the right ones.
I must’ve dozed off, because the next thing I heard was the soft click of the bedroom door opening.
Then his voice.
“Tess said you had a doctor’s appointment today.”
I blinked my eyes open. Matteo was leaning against the frame, suit jacket off, sleeves rolled, his tie half-loosened. Tension bled from every line of his body.
“She also said you’re laying down and don’t feel good.” He stepped inside, closing the door. “Is everything okay?”
“Yeah.” I shifted, tucking the blanket higher. “I’m fine. Just a little sore. It’s nothing serious.”
His brow furrowed. “You seemed fine this morning.”
“I know. It came on after.”
“After what?”
I exhaled and sat up against the headboard, folding my legs beneath me. “I have something to tell you. But you have to promise not to freak out.”
He stared at me. “You’re not seriously starting a sentence with that.”
“I know how it sounds, okay? But I need you to listen. We’ve come a long way, Matteo. I feel like we’ve moved past the whole ‘I tried to kill you’ phase and into something real.”
His jaw flexed. “Not denying that. But I can’t promise I won’t get mad.”
Fair enough.
“You’re going to tell me anyway, though,” he said, voice low.
I nodded once. “Yeah. I am.”
He came closer but didn’t sit. Just stood near the foot of the bed, arms crossed like he was bracing for an explosion.
“So,” I began, my throat suddenly dry. “Do you remember when you sent me to the doctor early on—when we were first together? To get checked? Disease screening, general health, all that?”
He gave a tight nod. “Yeah. Protocol.”
“Well… part of my plan back then was to make sure I didn’t get pregnant. So while I was there… I had the doctor insert an IUD.”
Silence.
Just complete, absolute silence.
Until—
“You fucking did what?”
I winced. “Matteo—”
“No, no, no, Valentina.” His voice dropped into that dark, cold register I knew too well. “You went behind my back and had birth control inserted without telling me? When you knew—you knew—that Alessio expected an heir? When I told you from the beginning that marriage meant children?”
I held my ground. “And at the time? I didn’t give a shit. I was planning to kill you, remember? The heir thing was your problem, not mine. I was protecting myself. I didn’t trust you. I didn’t love you. I didn’t even like you.”
His jaw ticked again. His fingers curled like he wanted to punch something. Preferably the wall.
“But things changed,” I said quietly. “We changed. I changed.”
He still hadn’t moved.
“So I had it removed today,” I added. “That was the appointment. And yeah, it hurt. And yeah, I’m sore. But I did it because I’m not that woman anymore. I’m yours. Completely. And I want to have your child. Not because Alessio says so. Not because it’s expected. Because I want it.”
His expression cracked. Just a little. A twitch of confusion. Of conflict.
“Then why didn’t you tell me before now?” he asked, voice rough.
“Because I didn’t want you to think I was doing it for you,” I whispered. “I needed to do it for me. To prove—to myself—that this wasn’t about control or orders or expectations. It was about choice. My choice.”
Matteo exhaled hard and finally sank onto the bed beside me, elbows on his knees, head in his hands. He rubbed the back of his neck for a long moment before glancing sideways.
“You had it removed today?”
I nodded.
“You really want to have my baby?”
“I really do.”
He looked at me like he was seeing me for the first time all over again—like I’d somehow undone every sin and surprise with one act of honesty.
“Jesus, Valentina,” he muttered. “You’re gonna be the fucking death of me.”
I leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Nah. Just the mother of your kids.”
He turned his head, caught my mouth with his, and kissed me like he was trying to rewrite time. Like he could make up for the silence, the fear, the secrets.