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“I’m not fucking perfect. I’m going to make mistakes. But you have to know that I love you. I think I might have loved you since the first time I saw you,” he said.
“Yeah, right, Enzo,” I said.
His expression didn’t change.
“I told you no lies. And it’s true. I don’t fucking understand it, but that doesn’t mean it’s not true. The thought of hurting you, the thought of you in pain…”
He shook his head, then looked at me.
“I can’t bear that,” he said.
“What do you mean?”
'I want you to forgive me. I pray that you forgive me. And I haven’t prayed for anything since I was five years old. But if you can’t, know that I’ll respect that,” he said.
I looked at him skeptically.
“You’d be the bigger man? Let me go?”
He shrugged.
“I mean, I’d try. Probably fail. But point is, Molly, I don’t want to hurt you.
I love you,” he said.
My stupid, traitorous heart melted as he spoke the words, and I worried whatever was left of it had fallen into his hands just like the rest of me had.
“Do you even know what that is?” I said.
“For a long time, I had no fucking idea, but when I look at you, I know.
I love you, Molly. And I will forever.”
I teared up, and Enzo frowned.
“I didn’t think I’d ever see the day that Molly would cry,” he said.
“Goes to show how much you know. I cry all the time,” I said.
He looked at me skeptically. “Since when?”
“According to the doctor, about eight weeks now,” I said.
He looked at me, frowned.
“What are you saying, Molly?”
I twisted my hands in front of me, suddenly nervous. “Enzo, I’m pregnant.”
His mouth flopped open, then closed. Then he looked at me with confusion and shook his head.
“Pregnant?” he said.
“Yeah,” I responded.
He didn’t say anything. Just stared at me, and the tension just built and built, the silence so thick and heavy the air crackled with it.
“Well, aren’t you gonna say anything?” I finally said when I couldn’t take it any longer.