Alora (part 1)

Chapter 5- gender

"So... do you know the gender?" Enzo asked me smiling, hoping to lighten the mood.

Despite the tension that still hung heavily in the air, Enzo's attempt to lighten the mood with a simple question about the baby's gender momentarily caught me off guard. I hesitated for a moment, my emotions in turmoil.

"I don't know the gender yet," I replied curtly, my voice tinged with frustration. I had no desire for small talk, not when the weight of our situation pressed upon me.

Enzo's smile faded, replaced by a furrowed brow. "Alora, we can't keep avoiding the issue. We need to talk about what happened and what we're going to do."

My anger flared, and my voice rose as I snapped back at him. "You drugged me, Enzo! How can you expect me to just move past that?"

Our argument escalated, our voices filling the room with heated words and accusations. I couldn't shake the feeling of betrayal, and he couldn't understand the depth of my fear. The clash between us was a reflection of the complexities of our situation, and the uncertainty of the path we had chosen to follow.

Enzo's frustration was evident in every word he spoke, his tone a mix of desperation and anger. "Alora, I know what I did was wrong, but I did it because I didn't know how else to make you listen. I had to find a way to talk to you, to make you understand how much I care about you and our child."

I shot back, my voice trembling with anger and disbelief, "You violated my trust, Enzo. You put both me and our baby in danger. How can I trust you now?"

He clenched his fists, his jaw tightening, but his voice remained steady. "I will do whatever it takes to make it right, Alora. I promise I'll never do anything like that again. But we can't just ignore this, pretend it didn't happen."

My own frustration boiled over as I retorted, "I'm not pretending, Enzo. I'm just not ready to forgive you yet. You can't force me into this. I need time to think."

Tears welled up in my eyes, and I could no longer hold back the flood of emotions that had been building. My voice cracked as I choked out, "I need some space, Enzo. Please, just leave me alone for now."

Without waiting for his response, I turned and retreated to my room, closing the door behind me with a heavy heart. The sound of the lock clicking into place echoed like a final barrier between us.

Inside the room, I crumbled onto the bed, the tears flowing freely now. My emotions were a chaotic whirlwind, and the weight of our argument pressed down on me like an unbearable burden.

Outside my door, I could hear Enzo's faint voice as he knocked gently. "Alora, please, let's talk about this."

I wiped away my tears, but my resolve remained firm. "Go away, Enzo," I whispered, my voice trembling. "I can't talk right now."

He didn't push further, and I heard his footsteps receding down the hallway. Moments later, I received a surprising but heartfelt gesture. He left a tray of food outside my door along with a note.

The note read, "I don't want you to skip meals. It's dangerous for you and the baby. When you're ready, we can talk. Until then, take care of yourself."

Despite the anger and hurt that still simmered within me, his concern for my well-being couldn't be denied. It was a small glimmer of hope in a situation fraught with complexities, and it left me with mixed feelings as I sat alone in my room, pondering the uncertain path that lay ahead.

.-.-.-.-.-.

After four long hours of reflection and battling with my emotions, I finally mustered the courage to leave my room and make my way to Enzo's home office. The path that had led me to this moment had been tumultuous, but I knew that avoiding the conversation wouldn't resolve anything.

With a deep breath, I approached his office door. It swung open, revealing Enzo sitting behind his desk. His expression was a mixture of relief and apprehension as he looked up at me.

I took a hesitant step into the room, my voice steady but firm. "I'm ready to talk, Enzo. But don't expect anything. I'm determined to make my own choices, especially when it comes to the safety of our child."

Enzo leaned forward in his chair, his eyes earnest as he tried to convince me. "Alora, I want us to be a family. I can provide for you and our child. We won't have to worry about anything. I can buy the best of everything for both of you."

But my priorities were clear, and I interrupted him, my voice resolute. "Enzo, it's not about money. It's about safety. Your world is dangerous, and I can't just ignore that. I need to protect our child."

Our argument resumed with even greater intensity. He couldn't understand the depth of my fears, and I struggled to make him see that I was trying to do what I believed was best for our family's well-being. The clash of our perspectives and priorities echoed through the room, a stark reminder that our path forward remained uncertain and fraught with challenges.

Enzo's frustration deepened as our argument continued, and he finally asked, "Why did you even call me if you didn't want my help?"

I took a deep breath, my voice tinged with regret as I confessed, "Because it felt like the last solution, the only way to ensure our child's safety."

His face fell, and for a moment, I saw a flicker of hurt in his eyes, though he quickly masked it. "Well, Alora," he said with a hint of resolve, "it's too bad because now you're stuck with me. I won't let you leave, not when we have a child on the way. We'll find a way to make this work, together."

He is so impossible!

My anger flared once again at Enzo's seemingly controlling response. Frustration bubbled up, and I made up my mind to storm out of the room and assert my independence.

But just as I took a step toward the door, Enzo's words stopped me in my tracks. "Just so you know," he said, his voice softer than before, "I booked a doctor's appointment for you tomorrow, so we can check up on the baby and stuff."

His unexpected declaration left me stunned. I turned back to face him, my emotions in turmoil. I didn't know what to say. While I didn't believe he had any right to make decisions for me, the concern for our child's well-being was something I couldn't dismiss.

The room fell into an uneasy silence as I grappled with the implications of his actions. The future remained uncertain, and the complexities of our situation had only deepened. I couldn't deny that his gesture, though unwelcome, was a reflection of his love and concern for our child.

What should I do, I'm so conflicted. Should I ignore the warnings so we could be a family or take the safe path out and raise the child myself?

"Thank you, I guess we will find out the gender tomorrow then" i said before I walked out and left to my room again to clear my head.

.-.-.-.-.-..-...

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