Page 141 of Jordan

“Jesus, Enzo,” I scoff. “What is the point in any of this? Why are you even talking?”

He turns toward me more, cupping my cheek with his large hand and making me look into his eyes. “Because I want you to know I’m going to do better. Regardless of the results—” He swallows hard, closes his eyes for a brief second and takes a breath. “Regardless of the results of the test, I am going to try harder for you because you deserve it. I don’t want you here as a prisoner. I want you here because you want to be here. I want you here, because I want you. Because I want to be enough for you. I want to give you everything you’ve ever deserved, and I want to make you the happiest woman in this universe. Truer words have never left my lips, Jordan. When I heard your name called at the club, I was furious. Furious. But when I set eyes on you? Jesus, it was like time stopped. Everything stopped. The only thing after that moment was us, and I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

His gaze dips to my stomach, and he once again swallows hard. He blinks and brings his gaze back to the screen, dropping his hand from my face.

I’m more confused than when I first came in here. I don’t know what to believe. I don’t know how to feel about any of this. About the truth he just told me. Those beautiful words he’s so good at putting together. Living in this house is like being inside a freaking pinball machine. I’m being whacked back and forth, back and forth, just out of reach of the goal.

“Why did you do it?” I ask quietly.

It’s been bothering me more than I care to admit. This niggling thought in the back of my head that if he can kill his own father, his own flesh and blood, why wouldn’t he kill his own child? Why wouldn’t he kill me? I need to know I’m safe here. That my child will be safe. And I’ve pushed this from my head since his admission last night because I didn’t want another thing to worry about, but I can’t ignore it anymore. Especially now I know there is a life inside me. One I have to protect at all costs.

“I did it for you.”

All the air leaves my lungs, and I’m filled with a rage like I’ve never felt before.

“Don’t put that on me. Don’t use me to rid yourself of guilt,” I snap.

He shakes his head, turning to face me again. “I did it for you, Jordan. To keep you safe. With my father still breathing, no one is safe. Not me, my brothers, and especially not you.” He gets up, looking down at me. “You need to speak with your father.” He turns to leave.

“He won’t tell me anything,” I shout after him, my voice trembling. He looks back at me. “Just tell me, Enzo. Please, tell me the truth.”

“You need to speak with your father,” he repeats.

He keeps going. “Enzo!” I call when he reaches the doorway, my heart pounding behind my ribcage. He stops and looks at me again. “Don’t you want to know?” Tears are falling now, and I’m not doing anything to stop them or to hide them. Does he not care about the answer? He doesn’t want to know?

“I do, angel. I really do. But I don’t deserve an answer tonight.”

Then he leaves.

And I’m alone.

Again.

Chapter Fifty-Nine

Jordan

Enzo has been playing this game of hot and cold for the last three days. Every moment I’m not sleeping or eating, I’m puking my brains out. One moment he’s asking how I’m feeling and trying to fix it, and the next he can’t even look at me. I can’t take it anymore.

I can’t help but feel like this is my fault. Like I’ve done something wrong. Like he hates me because he knows I’m pregnant even though I haven’t told him. Like he too realizes this baby could not be his. I can only assume that’s why he told me everything he did in the theater. That he wanted me to know he wants a family, but he may not have it. Like I’m the one who took it away from him.

I’m still confused over the whole thing and the constant vomiting is messing with my head. It’s after twelve when he finally comes into the bedroom and I’m wide awake, playing a game on my phone. I chose to stay in here, hoping he’ll open back up to me, because for some reason, I’m desperate for that. I’m blaming the hormones.

I feel more alone now than I ever have, and I don’t like it. So I choose to sleep in here, in his bed with him, as an olive branch.

I made the first move, Enzo. Now it’s your turn.

“We need to stop doing this,” I say.

“Doing what?”

“This back-and-forth thing. It’s tiring. Either be mad at me and leave me alone, or get over whatever your problem is.”

“I don’t have a problem.”

“Obviously you do because you’ve been an asshole ever since you found out about my possible pregnancy.”

He freezes for a split second, and I think maybe he’s about to give in. But of course not. He shakes his head and continues into the bathroom, shutting me out like he does every night.