"Enzo's Girl" |18+| Book 2 - Mafia in love

Chapter | Twenty-three

Of course, I fell asleep that night, having no cravings anymore and carrying too little about him not being back.

"Good. Fucking exhausting," I reply with a yawn.

"Are you sure the chocolate bars are for Miss Becca? I mean, you better keep some for yourself. I really don't want you to wake me up in the middle of the night and send me to buy you some," he tells me, eyes on the road, driving, trying to look serious but from the curled up the corner of his lips, I can tell he'll not mind at all.

"Oh, stop complaining," I scold him, slapping him lightly on his arms.

He shifts his eyes to me, grabbing the top of my nose between two fingers of his right hand, while I push his hand away and we both laugh heartily.

"You should seriously check on that craving thing, Eve. A pregnancy test or something," he says becoming serious and tightening the grip of his hand on the wheel.

"There is nothing like that, Jas. I'm just working a lot on my finals, that's all," I say trying to sound relaxed and unfazed. Little does he know I'm very aware of the reason for my cravings.

"Eve, if there is a baby you need to be taken care of. You need regular doctor check-ups," he continues on the same serious note, dismissing my denial.

I know there is a truth in his words, I know there are high chances I'm pregnant, but I dint want to check on anything until Enzo is back.

I want us to be together when I'll have the test, find the result together, and be both happy with that result.

And I want him to take me to the doctor and have the ultrasound while we both search for that little bean on the screen, acknowledging nothing but our hearts racing at the sight of the new life growing in me, a life that we've both created.

Jason parks the car in front of the candy shop that my mom loves so much.

She's been their regular customer for years and if my mom craves lava cake at two and night, they will do it at the damn two o'clock in the night.

"Wait here," Jas says while parking the car and getting down to enter the shop and be done with the errant given by mom.

I wait for him to walk further away and bury my face in my palms, trying to push back the tears threatening to roll out of my eyes.

There are three weeks since dad, grandpa Marce, and uncle Mike have returned from Italy.

Meanwhile, Enzo has been brought back from his induced coma, and he's getting better, they've said.

He has never called me once though. They've told me it's not safe for me yet. Things need to sink for a while, although the threat has been eliminated.

So, I didn't break, like Jason said, during the day. Women in my family don't break. They wait, quietly and patiently.

At night it's a totally different story, wrapping myself in sadness and crying my sorrow in silence.

And even though I'm running out of patience, I'm doing just the opposite. I'm waiting, looking all cheerful and happy during the day but breaking down in cries during the night.

Most of the time I see the shadow of Jason's legs walking up and down in front of the door of my room, waiting for me to stop crying, just to get back to his sofa in the living room once I'm done sobbing.

But one night he couldn't hold back and tried to make me stop, walking into my bedroom and wrapping me in his arms.

He said he couldn't bear my crying anymore, that I would crash if I continued like this, and he threatened to tell dad.