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“You’re volunteering to leave? You usually hover like a mother hen,” I said.
“Well, I thought I’d be generous. I don’t know how much longer I’m going to let you do this,” he said.
I tilted my head. “Let me?”
He gave me a quick kiss. “You heard me, doll.”
I stared at him, still in a black suit. Still dangerous. But different now. Enzo would never be soft, but I saw in gentleness when he looked at me. Saw the love all over his face.
Saw that he loved me, just as I loved him.
That I was his and he was mine.
Forever.
I smiled brighter. “The doctor said it was fine. And soon enough, I won’t be able to work anyway, so thank you for letting me enjoy this.”
Enzo
“This is nice,” I said later that afternoon after I’d finally gotten Molly to leave the shelter.
I had killed men with quieter hands than the ones I was now using to fold baby clothes.
Molly sat on the floor of our bedroom, surrounded by onesies and tiny socks and a baby book that had her tearing up every other page.
“You’re crying again,” I said when she didn’t answer.
She sniffled. “Hormones. And also, have you seen this stuff? It’s so tiny. Can you believe our baby is going to be this small?”
I glanced down at the tiny socks and tried to stop myself getting emotional.
“You have a point,” I said.
She smiled at the look on my face and set the book down.
“Come here.”
“I’m busy,” I said.
“Come here, Enzo.”
I went. Because I always fucking did.
And I always fucking would.
She pulled me down until I sat between her legs, my back against her chest, and her hands rubbing circles over my shoulders.
“I love you, Enzo Moretti,” she whispered in my ear.
“Not nearly as much as I love you,” I said.
I kissed her and then pulled back. “I have a surprise for you.”
“Another one? I mean, you already gave me a baby,” she said.
“Yup, another one.”
I pulled an envelope out of the baby book.