I shouldn’t be driving anyway.
My heart is beating too quickly, as if some doctor snuck into the bedroom and shot me with adrenaline.
I slide onto the floor, looking up at Luca’s bed, Luca’s toys, Luca’s posters.
The pale blue walls are normally calming, but my heart still skitters.
His stuffed dinosaur is tucked under the covers, waiting for him. His drawings are taped to the pale blue walls—stick figures that might be us or might be aliens.
I draw my knees to my chest and try to breathe.
Why hadn’t Enzo asked me if I’d slept with Gaby? Why hadn’t he just asked me?
A knock sounds on the door, then Enzo opens it slowly. His face is pale, and his eyes are bloodshot. His cheeks are wet, and when I blink, my own vision blurs. I’m crying too.
“I’m sorry I didn’t stay,” I say. “I—I wasn’t going to lose it in front of a stranger.”
“You don’t owe anyone an apology.” He hesitates. “Especially me. I’m so sorry. I ruined everything. I can’t believe I cost you your relationship with Luca.”
“Luca and I have a good relationship.”
“You do. And you could have met him before—” He swallows hard. “If I hadn’t?—”
“You thought I’d slept with Gaby.”
He nods.
“That’s why you hated me.”
He nods again. “I’m sorry. I-I should have called you. I didn’t want to hear you say the words. I shut you out, and you lost the chance to have a relationship with your son for the first two years of his life.”
I inhale. My heart jerks. I clench my fists together, as if that can keep blood from exploding through my body. “That’s why you think I’m upset?”
Enzo stares at me, stricken.
“I gave my sample to Gaby freely. I was certain she would be a good mother and happy to make motherhood possible for her. I had no expectations. None. But you left me,” I say. “You were my best friend, and you left me. You didn’t say goodbye. You didn’t even ask me for an explanation. You should have called me and yelled at me for sleeping with Gaby—and I would have told you straight away that I didn’t do that, that I would never have done that to you.”
Tears slide down Enzo’s face and drip off his jaw. I’ve seen him cry before. I never saw him cry in college, never saw him cryin the years when we were new to the NHL, but I’ve seen him cry many times since he moved to Boston.
I know he misses Gaby. I know he sometimes feels overwhelmed. I know when Luca is sad, sometimes he feels his sadness.
But I’ve never seen him cry like this. It’s ugly and harsh, hitching, gasping sobs that scrape out of him, and it sounds like my own heart breaking.
“I’m sorry,” he sobs. “I’m sorry. I pushed you away.”
“You broke my heart.”
He stares at me, stunned.
“You were the most important person in my life,” I say. “I used to call you when I got to a new hotel room and ask you if you’d been in the city.”
“Because you wanted going-out tips.”
“No! Because I wanted to hear your voice.” I hesitate. “Though I appreciated the going-out tips too. Obviously.”
He gives a soft laugh through his tears. He sniffs. I crawl toward the table where I put some a tissue box. I didn’t think they would ever be for Enzo and me. I take a tissue, then toss the box to Enzo. He catches it easily and takes multiple.
I smile through my tears. “Crying sucks.”
