Being in the same room with mom and Enzo was the last thing I wanted, but I couldn't refuse my dad's invitation to dinner.
He is my hero, my best friend, my protector, and my model of husband material. Everything in my life has to at least match my father. We've always had a special bond.
The moment I feel Enzo's scent once I've entered dad's office I know just how easily I can give in. The room becomes void in a second, time freezes and my breathing slows down as if my lungs stop working.
And when our eyes meet, I scream in my head "I love you" tenths of times, the only words my brain seems to recognize at this point.
It's a feeling like no other. It feels like I've never loved before as if Enzo is the man I've been always waiting for to come into my life and grow me into the woman I am today.
But the little bun I'm baking in my womb needs me sane, strong, and the only way I can be that is to distance myself from the thing mom and Enzo once have had and learn how to put that behind me, hoping that Enzo will understand my need of time for myself.
I can't tell him about the baby just yet, he'll never let me go if I do.
And it's not like I'm going to disappear from their lives. Aunt Feli has already agreed that I live with her for a while. Until I find a place of my own.
Opening my own restaurant has been a wish born in my mind as a child, since my vacation in Napoli. The time I've spent there has a very strong word to say in my decision.
The work of the chefs in the kitchen, the mix of flavors, the fine-dining dishes, and the pleased look on the customers' faces when tasting the food were fascinating to me.
I used to stare at them hidden behind the kitchen doors in Enzo's restaurant, gauging at people outside the kitchen, observing each gesture on their faces. That vacation has surely given me the right push to what I've always known I want to do later in my life, owning a restaurant.
And above all, I remember Enzo cooking. Oh, I used to believe he was a sorcerer at that time, fascinating me with all sorts of small jokes and magic tricks while jumping around him asking to show me how he was doing all that.
I can't wait for it! I can't wait to do something on my own. I know I'm going to find myself in this adventure. I know I'm going to find my peace and I want to feed my baby from that peace. Our baby...
What I didn't expect though was dad agreeing with it. Quite easily, I said to myself before he stood up and exited the dining room, leaving me alone with mom and Enzo.
I don't hate them. I could never. I just don't know how to process all of these, and I'm not ready yet.
I leave mom and Enzo in the dining room after bidding some quick byes, walking out with the clear intention to find dad. He can only be in his office.
"Dad..." I call him, peeking my head inside.
The room is dark, with only a sheer light coming from outside shining on my dad's face, turned towards the windows and stared outside from his armchair.
"Pumpkin... Come here, sweetie," he says frowning his thick eyebrows while shifting his eyes towards me and turning on the lamp on his desk.
I walk shyly to him, plastering a beaming smile on my face but feeling so clearly the sadness in his voice.
I crouch next to his armchair, holding his hands in mine and my head bent on the back, looking up to him and fully embracing his intense glare at me.
His sad blue eyes land on my face, filled with a mixture of love and sorrow.
"I'm so sorry, Eve. I thought I could protect you from everything," he tells me, cupping one of my cheeks.
"You did, dad. But..."
"I know you are running away, pumpkin. Your mother did the same when I was hurting her," he confesses something I hear for the first time.
I know dad has missed the first years of my life but never have I known mom has left him once.
His look is filled with sadness as if he is reliving those times.
"You look so much like your mother, Eve. You're so beautiful. You and your mother are my entire life. I could never live without the two of you. And I've hurt her so much, pumpkin, so much that I'm wondering until today how come am I so lucky to still have her by my side."
"Dad, you're not hurting me. It's not because of you I'm leaving," I tell him, tears pooling in my eyes.
I know I'm going to miss him. I'm going to miss being his princess, never having a worry, never being afraid, always finding my peace in his hugs. But times have changed and now it's my turn to give peace to my baby.
"I know, Eve. I know it's not because of me. This is why it's killing me. If it was me, I would have known how to fix it. But I can't, I don't know how to help you. Because you won't tell me. I don't know how to fix it, sweetie."
"Dad, you can't keep fixing things for me. I need to fix things for myself this time. I need to control my life, I need to own it," I say while tears keep rolling down my cheeks.
I want so much to tell him 'Dad, you are going to be a grandpa'! I know he'll be so happy, I know it will fill his heart with joy.
"Come here, sweetie," he says, and I sit on his lap, cuddling to his chest, feeling a little child again.
He peppers soft kisses on the crown of my head and wraps his arms around me.
"Promise you'll come to me for any help you need. I'll do anything to protect you, Eve. ANYTHING!" he says, his words vibrating in his chest under my ear, and I surely know what anything means for dad.
"I will, Dad. I promise," I reply and cuddle some more, imprinting in my mind that peace he always gives me, that big chunk of heaven and love that only he can offer. "I'll miss you, Dad."
"I'll miss you too, sweetheart."
*****
Jason has been holding my hand all the way to my penthouse, giving me the time and space to cry my sadness away. It is amazing how easily I can let out my feelings in his presence. He never asks if I don't feel to talk, he never insists if I refuse to talk, and he never judges, no matter what I do.
I take a long shower once I reach home, of course after a prime-time episode of throwing up, all in the same scenario, crouching above the toilet and emptying my stomach of the dinner, having Jason holding my hair and rubbing my back.
He has made a soup, saying I have to have something in my stomach before I go to sleep. I've said yes, I can't sleep, anyway.
I know the night is not finished, I know Enzo will come and I'm still debating if I should let him up or not.
But the moment I hear his voice I know it's childish of me to avoid him. I'm happy he has come back, I'm happy that he's well and in one piece, I'm so grateful to have had the chance to breathe the same air with him one more time, and I'm upset with myself for waiting that long to press the access button to my apartment. And my heart wins over my brain constantly shouting in my head to let Enzo go.
"I'll be fine, Jason," I tell him when Enzo asks him to leave.
Of course, I'm going to be fine. Besides, Enzo's hand is already reaching for his gun.
Finally, Jason leaves after one more intense look at me, reluctantly exiting my apartment.
I feel my knees buckling under the tension between Enzo and me. My heart is racing with each step as he walks closer to me. I'm sure I look like a huge tomato, my cheeks burning and hands shaking.
I clasp my hands in front with the left palm placed flat on my stomach, protecting my yet unnoticed womb.
"Good evening, Eveline," he says, his voice deep and cold, unlike his eyes, his black irises wrapping me in a warmth that goes straight to my racing heart. 'Hello, daddy' I mentally greet him on behalf of our baby.
"Hello, uncle Enzo," I say, hoping it will keep him away, but it hasn't.
He walks straight to me, leaning his cane against the sofa on the way and standing inches away from me, breathing so close, his scent of bitter wood mixed with tobacco and whiskey messing with my mind.
His lips trail kisses along my shoulder, making my skin shiver with goosebumps and leaving me rooted to my spot, unable to protest or move.
When his fingers squeeze between my thighs, my knees buckle and he has to tighten the grip of his other arm around my waist.
I give in. I've missed him so much and I need this night to take it with me, to smooth my next nights and days in Italy, to keep me company when I'll feel lonely, to tell our baby how much I love its father and what a wonderful lover he is.
And he hasn't disappointed me. His touches make my skin vibrate with arousal, his kisses fog my thoughts with desire, his pulls and pushes fill me up with thousands of sensations, rubbing against the muscles of my cores, making me moan and squeal, breathing heavily, gasping for air while he fucks me hard and possessively and I know there is a punishment in that as well.
But my body needs him, my lips are dry for his kisses, my breasts are hard with buds erected and my cores are weeping drenched for his manhood.
He makes love to me, raising me on the peaks of my climax several times that I've lost count of, filling me up each time with victorious groans and roars until I fall limp on his chest, spent and consumed, smelling of his scent that I wish will never leave my skin.
And each time his semen is filling me up, tickling my spot he will groan 'mine' in my ears as a mark of his possessiveness.
And I'm his. I'm helplessly his as if it's my only purpose in life, but that purpose is going to be shared now, between him and our baby.
I lay exhausted on his chest, both of us struggling to regain our breath and fill our lungs back with air.
He never stops caressing my skin even once, he never loses contact with my body even when we're both consumed with our last climaxes.
My head rests on his chest, rising and falling in the rhythm of his breath, his lips are glued to my forehead, my hand lays flat on his chest, feeling his hard muscles flexing each time he inhales or exhales, trailing my fingers tips on his scars, some old some freshly healed.
Bullet wounds, knife cuts, a whole collection is held on his stretched skin and my heart is shivering, thinking that any of them could have killed him, taking him away from me.
"How is your leg?" I ask him, breaking the silence in the room.
"I've been better, but it's not that bad. It's healing," he replies with a smile, tightening the grip of his left arm around my back and lifting me to capture my lips in kisses.
A toe-curling kiss shatters me to my cores, making my skin shiver and melting me to his chest in a sobbing mess.
I keep my eyes closed, I can't look at him. I know that if I look into those beautiful eyes, my plans will go to hell and I'll shout 'I'm pregnant, so I glue myself to him never pulling myself away.
Seems I can't resist those eyes for too long.
"I'm happy you came back safe," I mumble.
"I will always come, amore. Nothing can keep me away from you. Not even this lunatic idea of yours of leaving for Italy," he rasps. (Love).
Of course, he would refuse to understand. Why have I ever thought otherwise?
I push myself away, pinning my hands on his torso, trying to stand up and leave the bed, avoiding his eyes, but he grabs my arms and pulls me back, crashing me on his chest.
"You're not leaving anywhere, Eve," he orders in a heavy voice, staring at me with, a murdering look in his black eyes locked with mine.
"I just need the bathroom..." I whisper, shifting my eyes to his chest which, fuck, doesn't help too much, just a look at his sculptured muscles makes me lose my mind.
"Cut the crap, Eve! You know what I'm talking about," he bellows in my ears and tightens the grip on my wrists.
"Yes, of course, I know what you are talking about, Enzo. I'm not stupid!" I spit him back. "What the fuck do you want me to do, ha? Sit around and wonder all my life about what you have had with my mother? How was it? Am I better? Can I compete with her? What do you want?!"
My hands are visibly shaking, tears springing from my eyes, and I jerk out of his grip.
"Am I still competing with her?" I complete the blunt thought I've had in my mind.
"You can't possibly think that low about your mother," he says and my heart stings.
No, I can't. My mother has been nothing but a woman madly in love with my father.
"I don't know what to believe, Enzo! Things are rushing into my life, things I have never thought possible. I feel as if I'm living someone else's life," I shout, standing up, wrapping around me the silky robe I have at hand.
"Eveline!" he warns me in a deep voice, burning his angry eyes into mine, jaws clenched, and eyebrows frowned.
I walk away, facing the windows, curling my arms around me, trying to control my shivers. My entire body trembles, tears won't stop falling, and I swallow the lump that formed in my throat.
"I want you to leave, Enzo. I want you to understand I need to be away for a while. I need you to..." that's it.
My voice cracks, my heart splits in two and I jump out of my skin, hearing rushed shuffles behind me while my upper arms are grabbed in an iron grip, his chest pressed on my back and his lips glued to my earlobe.
"You're not making a fucking step out of here! You don't blink, you don't breathe a fucking breath without me knowing about it! You'll have guards at your door, and you'll call me... morning, noon, and evening. Got that, amore?" (Love).
*****
Thank you so much for reading and if you've liked it please leave a vote. ⭐️