59. Chapter Fifty-Nine

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.

I throw the blankets off me and storm in after him.

"Enzo!" He doesn't answer me, so I slam the shower door open. He doesn't even flinch. "Enzo, answer me!"

"What, Jordan?" he says, like he's tired of me doing this. Like all I am is an annoyance. Well, I'm tired of him doing this!

My mouth snaps open. I hate how gorgeous he looks, all naked and tan and muscled and dripping with water. Jesus, this man is too beautiful for words.

"We need to talk about this," I ground out, ignoring his sexy naked body.

He scoffs, shaking his head and turning back to the water.

"Why don't you want to know? What is wrong with you! You're the one who said you wanted this!"

"I do want it," he barks, whirling toward me. Water drips down his face, landing on his chest, and down his body. I try to ignore it, but it's so damn hard. I force my eyes back up to his. "Don't you get that? That's why I'm so pissed, Jordan. I want this, and I know there's a chance it isn't mine," he growls.

Oh, so you are mad about that? Good. Me too!

"How do you think I feel? Gross, Enzo, that's how. Wanna switch places?" I scream.

He rears his head back like I've slapped him. "Why in the world would you feel gross?"

"Because I'm pregnant and I don't know who the father is!" I shout at the top of my lungs, wishing it made me feel better, but it doesn't. Expelling the energy mixed with the heat only makes me want to throw up. The tears come, and I can't stop them. They burn my eyes, blinding me. The sobs leave me so harshly I can't catch my breath.

Warm, wet arms wrap around me, drops of water dripping onto my head, down my cheeks, my shoulders, everywhere.

"You're not gross, angel. Nothing about you is gross, especially not this."

"Yes, I am," I cry. "How can I be pregnant and not know who its father is? This is terrible!"

He hugs me tighter. "Shh, angel. Please, stop crying. I don't want you to be upset about this. We can figure it out."

"That's not the p-point."

"I know," he whispers. "Trust me; I know."

He holds me for so long we both start to dry. And when he lets me go, it's only to shut the water off and grab a towel. Then he's carrying me into the bedroom, undressing me, and getting us both into bed. He lays behind me, his large arms wrapped around me, his legs tangled with mine as he kisses my head over and over again. His large hand is splayed on my stomach in the most protective but sweet way, and I know whatever the answer is about this baby, about who it belongs to, it won't matter. It will be loved and cared for and spoiled rotten. But that isn't the point either.

The point is Enzo is my husband. We're trying to have a normal marriage, but how do we do that if I'm carrying the baby of our lover? My husband's lover? I don't even know what to call him because nothing is official. We still haven't made any official changes to the contract. Does Rafael know about this?

"How did I get into this mess?" I whisper through sniffles.

"This isn't a mess, angel. Please don't think that," Enzo answers gently. "I promise you this will work. We will make this work however we need to. What are you really scared of, Jordan? Tell me the truth. Why are you so upset about this?"

I don't have to think about it to answer. I've been thinking about it for days.

"I'm upset because you are my husband, and Rafael isn't. What if it's his? I want it to be yours. We are supposed to be having a family. Trying to make things normal. How could we be so stupid?"

"Though I'll admit it was careless to not use a condom with Rafael, I don't regret this." He takes a breath and lets it out shakily. "Jordan, if this is Rafael's baby, will you not want it?"

I lift my head to face him, shocked by his words. "How could you say something like that? Of course I'll still want it."

"Then why does it matter?"

"Because it matters to you!" A heavy sob leaves me, and I bury my face in his chest.

He lifts my head and presses his lips to mine as he shifts his large body over mine. Feeling his weight on me, covering all of me, always makes me feel so safe and protected.

"You have no idea how happy I am that you're pregnant. No fucking idea." He kisses my cheek. "And if this baby isn't mine by blood, it will be mine by everything else. This is our baby. And if it is Rafael's, then it's his baby too. Family is everything to me. It's how I was raised, and I was raised to know family doesn't always mean blood. This baby, who's ever it is, it's mine and yours and Rafael's, because even though we haven't spoken about it, I'm pretty sure he's going to be a part of us too."

He's right. I know he's right.

There is something about Rafael that fits with us. Not with everything and not every day, but it works. Rafael likes his space and his distance. Enzo and I have our alone time. But when the three of us are together, it's amazing. It fills a part of me I didn't realize I needed filled.

Enzo buries his face in my neck, kissing me gently. When he lifts up on his forearms, he looks into my eyes.

"Angel, nothing about this makes me think less of you. This is what I want. All three of us made this decision, we all made this—I won't say mistake, because it isn't a mistake. We're adults. You're not disgusting. You're my wife, and you're carrying my child. Do you think if it's mine, Rafael will want nothing to do with it? He will. He will love it. He's in our lives."

"I know, but—"

He kisses me, cutting off my words. It's hot and searing, and I don't want it to ever stop. Enzo slides down my body, sucking a nipple between his lips and causing my back to arch into him.

His hot tongue drags down my body until he's between my legs and he licks at my clit, slowly and gently. His hands grip my thighs, spreading me for him as he takes his time, licking, kissing, and sucking, until I'm spiraling into a mind-shattering orgasm.

His weight is on me once again, and he's sliding into me, thrusting so slowly in and out of me.

It's different. So different from what we've done before. It's always been fast, hard, and quick. But this? Enzo is taking his time, he's going slow, he's—

"Angel," he groans in my ear.

Fuck, I think he's going to tell me he's going to come, and I want him to come so badly. It's only been a couple of minutes, but I don't care. I want him to feel good. I want to make him feel good.

"Angel," he repeats softly, dragging his nose along my cheek. "Jordan, I love you, baby. I love you so much."

My fingers dig into his back, his words sending me over the edge for no reason I can explain. I clench around him, seeing stars as the orgasm rips through me, a soft, low moan escaping my mouth.

Jesus, this man loves me? How in the world did that happen? When did it happen?

"Fuck, angel…" He rolls his hips against me, pulsing inside me, coming too. With his forehead pressed to mine and his chest heaving, he groans. "Fucking hell."

We're lying together, neither of us moving. I can't be sure if I heard him right, or if I had a momentary lapse in sanity.

The only way I'll know is by asking.

"Do you really love me?" I whisper.

Enzo pushes himself up on forearm, looking down at me with a soft expression. He brushes his thumb along my bottom lip.

"Yes, angel. So much." He huffs out a laugh. "Probably since the first day I saw you in the club. It's so hard to explain, but I need you to know this wasn't just a business decision for me. It's been so much more from the beginning."

I lean up to kiss him, tears welling in my eyes again. This is all such a damn mess. How the hell did this get so messy? Everything is tangled and jumbled. I barely pull away from him to say, "That's why I'm so scared, Enzo."

"Why, angel?"

"Because I love you too."