Alas, he sits down, setting me on his lap. He brushes hair back from my shoulder and gathers it in a loose ponytail while his other hand strokes up and down my back.
“Tre, no matter what happens, I want to date. I don’t want you to feel pressured into a relationship if you’re pregnant. If you aren’t, I still want to be with you.”
“I want that too. I don’t want you to feel like you have to commit to me if I’m pregnant. If we’re good together, then great. If we aren’t, then we’ll figure out how to co-parent. But I expect nothing from you.”
His expression darkens. He fists my hair. The fingers of his other hand bite into my hip, and I know there’d be marks if I looked.
“I expect you to expect everything from me, Tre. Everything you’d want from a friend if that’s what we wind up as. Everything from a romantic partner if that’s how things progress. Everything from a father if we have a child. I expect you to expect me to be on your side and by your side no matter what. I expect you to expect me to support you any way you need or want. I expect you to expect me to take care of and protect you however I believe you need it.”
That’s a lot to process.
“What do you expect from me, Joaco?”
“To be happy and safe.”
Fuck. It feels like he expects more from me than he wants me to expect from him. In the world we come from, neither happiness nor safety are a given. They’re the rarest of gems.
“Regardless of whether we have a romantic relationship or not, you’re a part of my life now, Tre. I know some of your family’s safety protocols from being around Tía Elle, but I don’t know all of them. That means my safety protocols are law. I won’t budge on this. I will always give you all the freedom I can, but I will not budge with your well-being—pregnant or not.”
He tacks on the last bit to be sure I understand just how inflexible he is about this. It could overwhelm me. It could suffocate me. It could make me want to bolt.
It doesn’t. Just the opposite.
It makes me feel like I’m home. My family’s just as dedicated to each other as his, so moving to NYC has challenged me at times. The Mancinellis welcomed me, but I’m not one of them. I’m a Vizzini. At best, an ally most of the time but an enemy sometimes. Maybe not me personally, but my family. You don’t get one of us without getting all of us.
That alone makes me nervous since my parents won’t love discovering I’m with Joaquin, but that’s a battle for another day.
Instead, I let the warmth of his promise to protect me envelop me. It’s not perfunctory or obligatory like it is from the Mancinellis, even though I know how sincere it is from Sera. From Joaquin, I know it’s because he cares about me.
I’m the only girl in my generation back home. I’m everyone’s little sister, even to my cousins. They’ve been overprotective to the point that I ran away to New York just to breathe. But it was always necessary. I wasn’t blind to the threats back home. I knew from a young age who my father was and what my family meant to the Boston underworld.
Being a Vizzini opened doors that even old money couldn’t, but it also meant shadows lurked around every corner. It meant every new friend had a secret agenda until they didn’t. It meant trusting very few who didn’t share my last name and weren’t related to me within two generations. I wanted to leave that gilded cage behind, but I could be trading the old one for a new one. I don’t believe I am.
Yet again, I nestle against his chest.
I could feel so alone in this since I might be pregnant without truly having a partner. It’s too soon to call Joaquin that. I’m not scared anymore. I feel protected for the first time since I moved down here. I know my father and uncle have guards who keep an eye on me from a distance. After all, my father is the Boston Mafia’s retired capo dei capi—leader of all the capos—and my uncle is the don. I’m not entirely cut off from the security I grew up with. But it’s not the same. I don’t feel emotionally adrift like I did when Elle suggested I might be pregnant. Joaquin anchors me.
“When should I take the test?”
Chapter Nine
Joaquin
When I heard Tía Elle suggest Tre might be pregnant, I wanted to melt into the floor like a witch that had a bucket of icy water thrown on them. My mind wanted to refute the possibility at first, but I knew we’d taken a chance. I hadn’t worn a condom. She told me she was on birth control. We reassured each other we were clean. I was certain we’d be fine.
I admit to myself I would’ve stayed hidden if Tre hadn’t seen me. It would’ve hurt her even more if I hadn’t stepped forward. I feared she would’ve gotten angry and left, then I would’ve followed her. It could’ve been horrible. Instead, we’re talking like we should have that morning. Not because we thought she might’ve gotten pregnant but because we’re two grown-ass adults.
“Whenever you’re ready, chiquita. Do you want me there?”
“Yes.”
Her answer’s immediate. I release an inner sigh. I don’t want her to think it’s from resignation. It’s relief. I want to be part of this no matter the outcome.
“Joaquin, what’re you thinking? You don’t have to be.”
It was my turn to say something, and I didn’t. She thinks I’m withdrawing. Despite my adamance a moment ago, she thinks I don’t want this.
“What if I’m not a good father?”