Two weeks passed since the night I stared at that little plus sign, and my world tilted on its axis. I'd managed to keep it to myself, burying the secret beneath a mask of normalcy. But today, as I stood in Vivianna's hospital room, staring at her tiny, pink-faced daughter lying peacefully in the cot, I felt the weight of my silence crushing me.
The words tumbled out before I could stop them. "I think I'm pregnant."
Vivianna whipped her head around, eyes wide in disbelief. "What do you mean you think you're pregnant?"
I sighed, wringing my hands together. "I am pregnant."
"For Dante?" she asked, her voice sharp and her gaze piercing.
"No," I whispered, my voice barely audible. "Matteo."
The name felt fragile in my mouth, as if saying it out loud might shatter something. Vivianna's shock melted into something softer, though her brows still knit together.
"And you ended things with him again because...?"
"It's complicated," I said, pacing the room on quiet, restless steps. "Do you think I should tell him? Or should I just... quietly leave town?"
"And repeat the whole cycle again?" Vivianna snapped, her tone cutting through my thoughts like a blade. "Look, Helena, I don't know what you're scared of, but Dante is dead and gone. For good reason, according to Paulo. Honestly, I think you should pick up the phone, call Matteo, and tell him right now."
"Tell him what?"
The deep, familiar voice froze me in place. I turned to find Matteo standing in the doorway, his broad frame filling the entrance, his solemn expression flickering between Vivianna and me.
"Tell me what?" he asked again, stepping fully into the room. He placed a bouquet of flowers on the table beside Vivianna's bed and smiled warmly at her. Then his gaze shifted to me, sharp and tense, and I instinctively looked away.
"Nothing," I said quickly. "We were just talking."
Matteo's eyes narrowed, unconvinced. Before he could press further, I turned and walked out of the room. But he was fast, following me into the hallway and grabbing my arm gently, spinning me around to face him.
"Tell me what, Helena?" he demanded, his voice low but insistent.
I met his gaze, my heart pounding in my chest. There was no more running, no more hiding.
"I'm pregnant, Matteo," I said softly. "And there's a hundred percent chance you're the father."
The silence that followed was suffocating. Matteo's expression froze, his hard stare faltering as the words sank in. My chest tightened as I waited for his reaction.
"You're... you're pregnant?" he finally stuttered.
I nodded, my voice breaking. "But it doesn't change anything, Matteo. We can't be together."
"Why?" he yelled, his voice rising in frustration. "For God's sake, Helena, what is it that you're so scared of? Just a few weeks ago, you said you wanted to be with me. Now, all of a sudden, I'm the last person you want to see. You've been avoiding me everywhere, and now you didn't even want to tell me you're pregnant with my child? How long have you known?"
"Two weeks," I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.
"Jesus Christ, Helena," he muttered, running a frustrated hand through his hair.
I took a shaky breath, the weight of everything crushing me. "That night," I began, my voice trembling. "At the masked ball. After everything, and we'd taken you to the hospital... I went back to the house."
His brows furrowed.
"I just wanted to see how it felt, knowing he wasn't coming back," I continued, the words pouring out now. "I went up to his study, and I found this letter. He must've written it before he left the house that night. He left it somewhere I'd find easily."
"What did the letter say, Helena?" Matteo's voice was sharp, his impatience palpable.
"He said he had hired someone to watch us," I whispered, tears brimming in my eyes. "And if I kept seeing you, they were going to kill you randomly. That he wouldn't let me be with you, even in his death. I just couldn't... I couldn't risk it. I couldn't live with myself if something happened to you."
"Fuck, Helena," Matteo said, his voice raw with frustration. "You think a threat from a dead man is going to scare me? Is that why you ended things that night?"
The tears spilled over now, unstoppable. I wanted to hold him, to feel his arms around me, to drown in the safety he offered. But the fear in my heart held me back.
Matteo reached out, his thumb gently wiping away a tear as he pulled me into his arms. His scent overwhelmed me, familiar and grounding, and I couldn't stop myself from sinking into his embrace.
"Nothing is going to happen to me, Helena," he murmured, his voice firm. "I promise. Dante is gone. It's just me and you-and, well, a little somebody."
His hand brushed over my stomach, and I felt a warmth I hadn't allowed myself to feel in weeks. He pressed a kiss to my forehead, his lips lingering.
"I love you, Helena. I love you so much that I can barely comprehend. And if you thought I was going to let go even for one bloody second - I just – Helena?" he said, his voice steady and sure.
"Would you spend the rest of your life with me?"