"It's nothing. I drove out past the old territory today and might have caught a chill. The medicine tastes more bitter than usual."
A flicker of panic crossed Ermanno's eyes.
"Past the territory? Why on earth would you go out there? It's still freezing. Did you run into anyone?"
"No."
I shook my head and set the glass on the table, letting my lower lip jut out in a small pout. "Do I really have to keep drinking this? It's been years and nothing's happened. That doctor must have been a fraud."
The tension drained from his shoulders all at once. He pulled me into his arms and tapped the tip of my nose.
"Now, now, Gioia. Don't be a child. Don't you want to give your husband a son or daughter?"
He picked up the glass. "Be good. Let me feed it to you."
His dark eyes held a tenderness deep enough to drown in. My own eyes stung red as I asked one more time, my voice barely above a whisper: "I really have to drink it?"
He blinked, then smiled softly and nodded. Spoonful by spoonful, he tipped the medicine into my mouth.
I swallowed it mechanically, one mouthful after another, the bitterness so sharp that tears pooled in my eyes.
He was that determined. He would never let me carry his child.