Chapter 91 — Impostor Syndrome

MYKAELA.

I felt like a fraud. An inadequate and incompetent failure. A liar, basically.

Maybe some people I'd met actually thought I was an impostor. Nothing but a tryhard. Some days I just felt as if I were made to understand, but not to be understood. And lately I couldn't help but feel a myriad of emotions redirecting the course of my thoughts practically every minute.

Nothing new, though. These past few years had been a constant battle with this mindset. This anxious brain. All this negativity.

But I knew I should feel grateful. Lucky. I should be thankful for a lot of things. Especially for this flawless human being in front of me.

Like me, he didn't look too dressed up or underdressed. Despite his schedule, Lorenzio took the time to arrange this romantic dinner after he wasted his entire day at our graduation ceremonies, looking adorable and proud as he cheered me on and took pictures of me and Mommy Tilda all over the place.

I sat back as the evening sun dipped below the city's skyline, casting an orange glow across the rooftop. I loved the view. The privacy. The peace.

Enzo chose this place the other night. "You'll love it," was what he texted me while I was in the hospital checking up on my residency applications.

This used to be his friend's penthouse rooftop lounge. Tonight, though, Enzo and I had this place to ourselves. Sharing a quiet dinner on top of this skyscraper.

The food also tasted great. Not too fancy or foreign. Sometimes he knew my taste better than I did.

"Like the tiramisu?"

"Everything tasted amazing," I commented, feigning a smile despite the anxiety distracting my train of thought. "Thank you."

"For what?" Wearing a casual white button-down and gray pants, Enzo gave me a warm smile that wrinkled the skin beside his eyes.

"Earlier." I glanced down at my empty plate. Just staring into his attentive eyes urged the butterflies in my tummy to start a riot. "And for this." I smiled at the space around us, liking its romantic aura.

The rooftop was adorned with some vines, hanging orchids, and yellow lights. Their soft brightness added a sensual touch to the moment, matching the vintage furniture, the dull city noises not at all distracting.

"Least I could do, Doctor Nielsen." My handsome dinner date winked at me.

I snickered. "Means a lot, that you and Mommy were there."

"Wouldn't have missed it for anything," he mumbled as he reached across the table to hold my hand. "Your dad couldn't be any prouder."

Rest in peace, Daddy Jim...

I sighed briefly and gave a slight nod. If my dad were still here with us, I had no doubt he'd like everything about Enzo.

"So proud of you, B." Lorenzio gave my hand a squeeze.

I stared back at him. My cheeks heated up, his words bringing another rush of emotions as I tried to look the opposite of nervous and anxious.

Who wouldn't be? I had yet to tell him the truth: the well-kept secret I'd been carrying like a heavy burden the past two weeks. I didn't even tell my mom or sister about it. Just Gaia.

Thankfully Gaia kept her mouth shut this time. As far as I could tell, it was still a secret. And I felt selfish for hiding it from Enzo. But I did it to spare him the guilt and disappointment I'd been trying to hide.

Squirming in my seat, I put on another smile, cleared my throat, and reached for my glass of water. My fingers turned cold ever so slightly.

"You alright?" he asked with furrowed brows. "You look knackered. Wanna go?"

"No. I'm fine. We can stay another half-hour," I tried to say as calmly as I could. "Just a little tired." I drank some water. The cool sensation that soothed the tightness in my throat didn't really lull my thoughts.

"Alright."

"So, um... I wanted to talk to you, about, uh, something."

"Okay."

I held my breath. Now my heart wanted to jump out of my rib cage, and the last of my expensive dinner wanted to go somewhere else besides my gut.

"What something?"

"Remember the other Friday?"

"Last Friday?" Enzo took a quick sip of his red wine, his brow furrowed with concern as he leaned closer.

"No. The Friday before that."

"I was, erm..." He looked away and blinked a few times. "In Florence. Right?"

"Yes." I swallowed when his gorgeous eyes locked on mine again. "You met with Leo, and your uncle's lawyers."

"Right. What about, er, that Friday?"

"Um..."

"I remember you were doing double shifts that weekend," Enzo mumbled with a frown that drew faint lines on his jowls and tan forehead.

"Friday till Saturday."

"Right. So what's up?"

Darn this. I just wanted to get this off my chest, because he deserved to know what actually happened. Why must it feel like such a difficult process?

Taking a deep breath, I let my thoughts take over my restraint, my legs restless under the round table. "So, that night, at work, I was..."

"What?" he muttered with a fairly nervous look.

"I-I had a miscarriage."

A tense and rather awkward silence filled the air.

Enzo looked like what I said was the last thing he wanted to hear.

Probably. I didn't even tell him I got pregnant. But not because I didn't want him to know. I just didn't know for sure. And I wanted to wait another two weeks at least. To make sure it was a healthy, viable pregnancy.

When I leaned forward and stared into his eyes, his gaze softened with sympathy. Or was it mostly shock? Some disappointment?

"Did you..." Enzo gripped my hand on the table, his tight hold quite comforting. He cleared his throat and squinted at me. "Were you... Wait. How did it happen?"

"I was already feeling a few symptoms the previous week. I mean, more than a few."

"And?"

"The morning sickness went away that week, then the other symptoms. And then I had, uh, really awful cramps." Followed by a week of bleeding. Passing clots. Dizziness. Even appetite issues. "So I thought..."

Enzo loosened his grip on my fist. As his angular jaw tensed, he gradually reclined in his chair, his lips almost forming a line. "You already knew?"

"Kind of. I got tested. A week apart. Here and then in Schenectady. Doctor Sharma confirmed it," I sighed.

"Your doctor in Schenectady."

I nodded. The way he spoke made me feel like he meant to say something else, like a question that demanded a lengthy explanation. "I-I just didn't want to, um..." I glanced away. Tears warmed my eyes, urging me to stop holding back. To just let it all out. But I needed to explain everything first. "Burden you with it."

"Burden me?"

"Yeah," I tried to say in a louder voice, but it came out in a whisper. My nose felt congested. But no. I could still hold it in. "You're already dealing with so much."

Running a biotech company during this worsening health crisis, while trying everything to keep the investors happy and dealing with setback after setback throughout the year... It sounded nothing like the type of job I wanted to keep and could deal with day in day out.

"I-I thought I could handle it." Alone. Like every other problem I'd had to deal with the past couple of years. I covered my nose and mouth with my fingers, my voice faltering.

The look on Enzo's face remained gentle, although he didn't seem pleased with my confession and my explanation. When he moved closer to the table, his thumb gently brushed away a tear that escaped my eye. "Mykaela, you know you could've just told me."

"Sorry." I closed my eyes and muffled a sob. My chest hurt like a bitch, and I kinda wished I was too dehydrated to shed more tears. But they just wouldn't stop coming.

"No. I'm sorry."

Why? "You're..." I squinted at his stubble and pouting lips. "Why're you apologizing?"

"I've been away too much."

"What? No. Don't," I said, hesitating while trying to sound calmer than how I really felt. "Don't say that. I never said you—"

"No. I know. You don't have to make excuses for me," Enzo mumbled with knitted brows. "I wasn't here as much as you wanted." Scowling at something on our table, he let go of my hand and itched the arch of his brow, the guilt and sadness in his eyes rather obvious. "Must be another reason why you didn't wanna tell me. Confide in me."

Well, okay. It was sort of true. But I didn't want to blame him for anything. There was nothing he could've done.

I was the one with a defective womb. And unreliable hormones. Add to that a highly stressful, demanding line of work. I could go on and on...

Our furtive glances lapsed into another moment of silence, the weight of my confession seemingly enough to ruin his mood, too. But then, Enzo's lips curled into a faint smile.

My breath hitched. I looked him in the eye, taken aback.

Enzo dropped his grin before he reached for my hand again. "But you're alright? Do we need to see your doctor soon?"

"No. I'm fine. Really." Just not mentally. But, he didn't need another thing to worry about.

"You sure, love?"

I gave him a nod and a believable smile. "Doc Sharma helped me out with everything. I didn't need any surgery or anything."

"Alright." Enzo sighed out loud and clicked his tongue, the tension in his broad shoulders finally easing. While I tried to bite back tears, his blue eyes abstractedly stared at his glass of wine. "I just wish you told me sooner. But, I get it. Okay?"

"Okay."

"I'm not upset with you. At all."

Thank goodness.

He tilted his head to the right and watched me closely. "You know I can't be upset with you for more than a minute," he murmured with a fleeting smirk.

I wiped my eyes and cheeks dry with my table napkin, forcing a chuckle at his reassuring words. Jeez. I really lucked out with this guy.

When I said no to his proposal, I used my insecurities and his family's issues with mine as excuses. Even though he already knew every single one of them. But now, my feelings about this relationship were shifting—a truth I had yet to reveal to him. Merely saying it out loud made me nervous.

If only I could, I would have his firstborn and ten more babies with him right now if it would be enough proof for him. If giving him the family he'd always dreamed of would prove how much I wanted him and how much his love and commitment meant to me, I'd gladly marry him tomorrow.

Too bad things between us were never that simple. I couldn't remember ever thinking getting romantically involved with a guy like him would be easy. The opposite was still the truth, especially considering how we met and our family backgrounds.

Before I moved in with him, I never really expected or believed I'd actually be in this position. Seriously dating a guy like him. Deeply in love with someone who wasn't Miles. Too in love that, I was very much willing to break my decade-old promise to myself and marry a hard-nosed businessman, who, occasionally, was a heavy drinker who wasn't shy with his hands. And mouth. Among other body parts...

Not that I wanted to complain. Often he was the Golden Retriever type of boyfriend. But his other traits and encouragement really had me convinced I couldn't do any better. Some days I actually believed I was capable of being someone's wife and lifelong partner.

Even more impressive was the fact that, if shit got real, he was also the type to walk straight into the crosshairs of a shotgun and not give a crap. Just to protect me and my family.

The thought of Lorenzio marrying someone else...

It just might be the end of what's left of my sanity. It was a feeling I could hardly describe with words most of the time. Every time I tried, my pessimistic thoughts often took over.

"B."

I looked up from my plate and eyed him again. "What?" I put down the table napkin, my chest and stomach no longer tight.

A smile tilted the corner of his pale lips, his keen blue eyes seemingly memorizing every inch of my face. "Let's throw a party next week."

I made a face. The confusion drew my thoughts away from what I just confessed to, but the guesses I made in my head didn't satisfy my curiosity one bit.

Did he mean he would organize a graduation party for me? In Schenectady?

Or here in New York? Did he want to invite the rest of my family? Maybe he wanted to invite his family and Rafa, too.

"Why?" I cleared my throat and grabbed my glass of water. "What kind of party?"

"Our engagement party."