“I don’t know what to do about Gia, Alana. She’s moody and accused me of cheating on her. With you.” I rub my forehead as I stare out at the night sky, I can smell the musky scent from the rain earlier and the city is alive below me.

Alana laughs through the phone. “Of course she is. It’ll pass, Gunner. When the second trimester hits, she’ll get better. When I was pregnant with Cydney I accused Darien of sleeping with his PA. He wasn’t, I ju—”

“Hold the fuck up. Gia is pregnant?” I ask in shock. My hands shake, and my heart beats a million times faster.

“Um, I’ve got to go. I gotta do something,” she says quickly.

“You better not hang up, Alana Casey. You tell me right now if my wife is pregnant,” I demand.

She sighs in the phone. “She came by a few days ago, scared to tell you she was pregnant and didn’t know how. I told her she should do it at Sunday dinner while we’re all there for support.”

We have Sunday dinner at my ma’s house, which my ma started for Gia since she doesn’t have any family. She wants Gia to feel like she has a family and support.

“Don’t be mad, Gunner.”

I hang up the phone and move to the kitchen. Gia struggles to open a jar of pickles and a big bowl of strawberry ice cream sits on the counter. Come to think of it, her tits are twice as big, and when I fucked her this morning, she told me not to touch them because they are sore. And her nipples are turning a dark color. I just thought it was her birth control fucking with her body. She looks up at me with frustration on her face and slides the jar across the granite counter.

“Please, open this?” she asks.

“You don’t eat salty food with sweets.” I open the lid and slide the jar to her.

“Thank you.” She ignores my statement. I shit you not, she dips the pickle into the ice cream, bites into it and moans loudly like she just ate the best thing in the world. That’s just fucking gross.

“Are you pregnant?” I fold my arms across my chest. Her face turns white and tears spring to her eyes. “It’s okay. Don’t cry, Rainbow.” I stride to her and pull her into my arms. “Is that why you’ve been picking fights with me?”

She nods. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know how to tell you. Every time I try I couldn’t get the words out. When I brought up the subject about kids while we were in Japan you said you didn’t want them right now. I thought you were going to be mad or hate me.”