"Eve, honey, can you please grab some chocolate bars for me on your way home?" mom says over the phone after I barely had the chance to say 'hey, Mamma, I'm on my way.'
The classes today have exhausted me to my bones. I have been in school for the past ten hours, had a court staged in the class for one of the famous murder cases that have shaken NY ten years ago and which is still unsolved.
And guess what? I've smelled uncle Mike around that case.
I tried as much as I could to keep myself away from the action, stayed in the back, and listened until the professor called me in front, and I had to involve.
Don't judge me, I'm not the one to be happy about the awful murder of someone but that guy, burned to his teeth, was some human trafficker who kidnapped girls to sell in Europe, most probably sex slaves.
And it wasn't like I didn't know Enzo had exclusivist clubs of the kind in Italy, but hey, women were free to choose if they wanted that sort of life.
So, by the end of the day the victim was actually the murderer, not of himself (God, I love the play of words) but of some victims found dead and to which he was linked, and I dragged everybody's concentration to the point of nobody believing him to be a victim anymore.
Well, finally the professor had stated his conclusion in the end: case classified, with not enough proof.
The victim was brought to the state of being accused post-mortem and I was satisfied because cases like this had been my motivation to study here.
Having not enough proves to lead to the murderer of the human trafficker, by the end of the class the case was officially closed (at least in our play).
The class is ended so I'm now rushing towards Jason's car who is waiting for me outside to drop me at mom and dad's, like every day since dad is back.
"Hey, Jas," I tell him once I get in the car. "We need to buy mom chocolate bars on our way home, or she will have my head," I tell him while buckling up.
"Hey, to you, too. How was your day?" he asks, leaning over for a quick hug.
In the past two weeks, we've grown to be some sort of friends. He's my guard, again, watching over my safety. I'm a brat, like usual, giving him a shitty hard time. Like a really hard time.
I've developed a habit of sending him in the middle of the night to buy me different things I'm craving like hell for, the strangest staff.
"I want ravioli."
"I want tomato pasta."
"I am dying for some strawberries," I would tell him, sitting next to him on the living room sofa where he's usually sleeping, pocking him between his ribs to wake up.
He has never said no, standing up with a groan, throwing whatever over his shoulders, and walking out on the door, half-sleeping still.
Once he fell asleep in his car while waiting for the tomato pasta to be ready and didn't come back for three hours.
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.
'Fuck off!' I told him. I knew he wouldn't tell on me.
I spread a wide smile on my face when he gets back in the car with two very similar packages.
"Why two?" I ask.
He looks at me with a smirk and raises an eyebrow.
"I'm not waking up tonight, Eve. I told you!" he says, threatening me with a joke.
I give him a quick kiss on his cheek and shove my hand into one package he has brought, grabbing a chocolate bar and pushing it all in my mouth.
"Hmm," I hum, closing my eyes and letting all senses feel the chocolate aroma to its last drop. "I swear these are brought directly from heaven," I mumble, mouth filled with soft milk chocolate.
Jason laughs and shakes his head.
"You're too cute," he says.
"Nope. I'm not cute. I'm a brat, remember?" I say, smiling, repeating his usual words.
He puts the car in motion again, taking the road to the mansion, and soon Jason drives the car through the mansion's gates.
"Come on, we're here," he says, parking the car in front of the mansion and lightly shaking my shoulder to wake me up from the short nap I've had on the way here.
I frown when my eyes land on a car that I haven't seen here before, parked behind.
I grab the chocolates and get down when Jason opens the door for me and grabs my hand lightly, while my eyes still wander to the new car.
He walks before me towards the entrance and opens the door for me. Jesus, I'm a glass fairy, I chuckle.
"Mamma?" I call while dropping the packages and my purse on the living room sofa.
There is nobody around. I take a peek in the kitchen and then shift my eyes to the patio where I know mom usually has her coffee.
Seems there is someone outside and I shift towards the sliding doors, stopping by the living room to fetch my mom's precious chocolates and exit the kitchen.
As I walk closer, my breath races. I see mom sitting on the outside sofa, facing her back to the sliding doors, talking with that someone that has had my heart in an iron grip for the past months, beating only for the day when I'll see him again.
My look is magnetized to him, piercing my eyes to the back of his neck, rushing my steps.
"What do you think she'll do when she finds out about us?" my mom says, and I stop right there.
She holds Enzo's hand clasped between hers, head just a little tilted towards him while Enzo looks straight ahead.
"She'll have to understand. Lucas did. I'm not giving up on her, Becks. Not like I did with you," he says, and I feel stabs piercing right through my chest, eyes blurring with tears, mouth dry unable to gasp air.
"She's young, Enzo. She might not," mom replies.
"Find out what?!" I shout and two pairs of eyes snap towards me, gauged from their orbits, mouths gaped, staring back at me.
"Sweetheart..." my mom breaths.
"Eve!" Enzo says and tries to stand up, but his face cringes in pain and he stays put.
It's only now that I'm noticing the wheelchair next to the two-seat sofa where mom and Enzo are seated.
"Find out what?!" I howl this time which brings Jason out on the patio in a blink.
"Eve?" he calls me from my back, but I don't answer.
My eyes are still burning holes in my mom's green irises, already floating in tears.
I shift my eyes to Enzo, anger, and pain mixed in his look, begging me to stop.
"You two?! You and mom?" I say, tears and sobs choking me, fading my voice.
"Sweetie, you need to listen to us," mom says, standing up and walking toward me.
She tries to reach her arms in a hug, but I push them away.
"You and mom..." I tell Enzo one more time, my legs giving in as I crouch, hands clasped on my knees while I can't stop my crying anymore.
Jason grabs my shoulders, trying to lift me, but as I do not pay him any attention, although I know he is there, in my back, ready to fetch me at any point, he just rests his hands on my upper arms, letting me know he's there for me.
Mom crouches next to me and she reaches for my hands again, but I lift one, stopping her.
"Oh, you are both rich, aren't you?" I tell mom, staring at her, taking in her pain, her disparate crying.
"Eve, stand the fuck up and listen," Enzo shouts back at me and grabs his wheelchair to seat in and my heart breaks to see my strong sweet Enzo so powerless.
"Oh, I'm. I'm standing the fuck up and get the hell out of here!" I reply, getting back on my feet and turning around, leaving Jason behind who instantly walks after me, and my mom, sobbing loudly and calling me back.
I run out of the mansion with Jason on my heels.
He finally reaches me and grabs my arm, leading me to his car and opening the door for me.
I drop limp in the passenger's seat, with Jason buckling my seatbelt, mom running after me, crying and calling me back.
I don't look back.
I'm deeply fallen into my own pain and hurting, bursting into loud cries while Jason gets in and pushes the speed paddle all the way to the floor, driving us out with wheels screeching, leaving behind a sobbing mother and a disabled Enzo, for who I'm hurt to my core to see his struggle but somehow happy as well because he cannot follow me easily.
And because he's breathing...
*****
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