The Harsh life

Chapter 4

Giovanni-now
I glance back down at my phone. I know I shouldn't of left her but Jax is in Brazil and there's no one to be here.

I paid my maid to give me updates every time Amara does something and if she doesn't do anything I want a text every hour stating so.

I'm so fucking worried.

I need to go home.

Matteo is sat opposite me with Rocco and they're talking to me I'm not even listening.

Rocco wants to go on a trip to Italy and he wants to take Matteo. Personally I would like it if Matteo stayed as his sister hardly talks to me or won't even move from bed most days.

After her miscarriage a few days ago, we went to the doctors who told us to wait two weeks before we start trying again and honestly, thank god.

Amara wants this baby so bad she's on my dick every free minute of the day. I don't mind, I'd give her anything she wants but it's so tiring. She only wants a baby because she's paranoid I'm going to leave her if she doesn't give me one.

I don't care that Jax and Lara are pregnant, well I do but just because Jax and I were born the same year and the same with our fathers as well doesn't mean that I have to have a kid the same time as Jax.

It's putting so much strain on my marriage.

I love Amara and I know she loves me but she's scared.

When Jax and Lara first announced they were pregnant I honestly was so happy for them and thought it made sense to start trying with Amara if she was ready, it's her body after all. Now it's all a mess. I'm hardly talking to my best friend, my marriage is a mess, my wife won't talk to me. Im so stressed.

I just, I just need this all to blow over. I need Amara to stop stressing herself out. She cries every night and I know it isn't just about me and that she want a kid too but I just wish she wouldn't blame herself.

My phone rings and I immediately pull it to my ear to talk to Amara.

Amara and Matteo were born and raised in Italy so their first language is Italian. They're both fluent in English and love talking in English but sometimes, talking in Italian is puts their mind at ease. And lucky for Amara, I am fluent in Italian.

"What's wrong? You know you shouldn't be drinking." I say in Italian. She knows this. We both know this. She made it very clear that when we started trying for a baby that she wasn't going to drink anymore and that if I caught her drinking I should stop her.

"Who are you with?" She sniffles. "Are you doing something important? I'm sorry. I just... I forgot you had an important meeting, sorry." She apologises.

I love Amara, I wish she would stop apologising so often. She's normally really good but since the other night it's all she's done.

"Don't cry." I tell her. "I'm with your brother and Rocco. It's important but if you need me I'll come home right now." I tell her. I don't care about this meeting when she's in this state.

The last update I got from my maid was that Amara had taken some wine to bed. At least she got out of bed to get it.

But that means right now she's probably drunk.

"No no, it's okay. I'm fine. Honestly I am. I didn't mean to interrupt. Don't worry about me, I'm fine." She says and I roll my eyes.

"I'll be home in half an hour." Probably less than that. "Stop pushing me away." I tell her as I stand out of my chair. I grab my stuff and immediately leave my office, heading for my car.

I speed home.

When I get home I jump out of the car and head straight for my bedroom.

When I get up there Amara is no where to be seen. The bathroom door is shut.

I attempt to open the door but it's open. No for fuck sake this isn't happening.

I knock the bathroom door but there's no answer.

"Babe?" I call. No response.

"Amara?" I call again. Again. No response.

Fuck.

"Amara give me an indicator because I will break this door down I don't care." I tell her. I will charge into it.

Still no response.

Fuck.

"Okay if you're near the door move." I say before taking a few steps back from the door.

"One." I shout.

"Two." I follow.

"Three." I shout and then kick the door with everything a worried husband has when their wife is drinking her sorrows and not answering.

Fuck.

She's in the bath, passed out with three bottles of wine around her, empty bottles.

No hesitation at all. I drag Amara out of the water and lie her on the bathroom floor. I check for a pulse. It's there, she's just passed out.

I take her over to the toilet and sit behind her to support her. I hold her head up and in the direction of the toilet bowl as I shove my fingers down her throat.

She starts gagging which is followed by her throwing up into the toilet.

"You're okay." I rub her back and take a breath of relief when he eyes open.

She can't speak all that she can do is throw up into the toilet.

I just hold her wet hair back and rub her back to encourage her to throw up.

Better out than in.

"It's okay, you're okay." I tell her as she starts to cry.

"I'm sorry." She apologises and I shake my head.

"It's fine. Is this why you rang?" I ask and she nods. I just nod and lean my head against her shoulder and she leans back into me. Fuck this is a mess.

She falls asleep like that on the bathroom floor, I end up carrying her to bed, changing her out of her wet clothes and into her pyjamas and putting her on her side a long with a bucket beside her if she needs to throw up in the night.

Once that's done I clean up the bathroom and then clean the bedroom before getting ready for bed myself.

I get back into bed but not to go to sleep, to watch Amara.

I'm scared for her. Scared what'll she do. Scared what will happen to her, to us.

I have a bad feeling that this is the start of something worse.