Page 24 of Mafia Pregnancy

I pull back, wiping my eyes with the back of my hand. “I want to go back in time and make better decisions. I want to have never met Radmir Vetrov, or Mikhail Petrov, or whoever he really is.”

She gives me a gentle smile. “That’s not an option.”

I know, and it would mean never having Leo, which I can’t imagine. “Then I want to disappear. Take Leo andmove somewhere far away where we can start over without complications.”

“Also not realistic.”

Of course, she’s right. I can’t afford to run away and start over with no money and no support system. Leo needs stability, needs his school and his friends and the life we’ve built here. If I’m keeping this baby—and the thought of abortion instantly sends a resounding no through my mind—he or she will need all the same things. That leaves only one option. “I need to tell him.” The words come out before I can stop them, surprising us both.

“Tell who? Radmir?”

I nod and then shake my head, revealing my inner confusion. “No, yes… Both of them. Radmir about this pregnancy and Leo, and Leo about his father. Radmir first, of course, in case he rejects the idea...” I move to the window, looking out at the parking lot, where normal people are living normal lives without these kinds of complications. “I can’t keep hiding forever.”

“Are you sure that’s what you want?”

“No. I’m not sure about anything anymore.” I turn back to Carmen, who’s watching me with concern and affection. “I need time to think and figure out how to have this conversation without destroying everything.”

“Mama?” Leo’s voice carries from his bedroom. “Can we have dinner now? I’m really hungry.”

I look at Carmen, grateful for the interruption and the excuse to postpone this conversation for a few more hours. “Of course, sweetheart. Come help me decide what to make.”

As Leo runs into the kitchen, chattering about our visit to the park and the chocolate ice cream he ate, I try to imagine a future where he knows his father, where this new baby grows up with both parents, and I don’t have to carry these secrets anymore. The image is so foreign, so impossible to reconcile with my current reality, that it might as well be a fairy tale.

Carmen follows us into the kitchen, settling at the small table while I pull ingredients from the refrigerator. Leo climbs onto his step stool, ready to help with whatever I’m making, his face bright with the kind of enthusiasm only children can manage after a full day of playing.

“Can we make spaghetti?” he asks, opening the pasta cabinet with the confidence of someone who knows exactly where everything belongs. “With the really good sauce?”

“Sure.” I pull out a box of pasta and hand it to him. “Can you count out enough for three people?”

He takes the task seriously, examining each piece of penne like he’s conducting quality control. Carmen watches him with a soft expression, and I wonder what she’s thinking. Isshe’s seeing him differently now that she knows who his father is, and can she spot any resemblance? She’d have to be blind not to.

“He has his eyes,” she says quietly, as if reading my mind. “And his bone structure...”

“Don’t.” The word comes out sharper than I intended. “Please don’t try to analyze him like he’s some kind of genetic puzzle.”

Carmen raises her hands in surrender. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable.”

I fill a pot with water and set it on the stove, needing something to do with my hands. “I’ve spent four years trying not to think about resemblances or wonder what traits came from where. He’s just Leo. He’s just mine.” That all ended the day I saw Radmir’s childhood photo hanging in his hallway though.

“He’s not just yours anymore, is he?” She sounds regretful to voice it but has always had a policy of calling me on my bullshit, like a true friend.

The question hangs between us while Leo continues sorting pasta, blissfully unaware of the conversation happening around him. She’s right, and we both know it. Whatever illusion I’ve maintained about being Leo’s only parent, and this being our private world, started cracking the moment I walked into Radmir’s house.

“Mama, is Miss Carmen staying for dinner?” Leo looks up from his pasta project, his hands dusted with flour that somehow escaped from the box.

“If she wants to.” I glance at Carmen, hoping she’ll say yes. The thought of spending the evening alone with my thoughts and my newly confirmed pregnancy feels overwhelming.

“I’d love to stay,” she says, and I see the understanding in her expression. She knows I need the support right now to help me manage what’s happening.

“Can we watch a movie after dinner?” he asks, already planning the evening’s entertainment. “The one with the dragons?”

“We’ll see.” I start browning ground beef for the sauce, grateful for the familiar routine. “First, let’s get through dinner.”

The routine of cooking helps calm the panic that’s been building since I saw those two pink lines.

“Danielle,” Carmen says carefully after a glance at Leo, who is distracted with getting plastic glasses and plates from the dishwasher so he can help set the table, “Have you thought about timing?”

I know what she’s asking. When will I start showing? When will it become impossible to hide this pregnancy from Radmir, Leo, and everyone else?

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