carlodimatteo:
Carlo was dizzy to say the least, but hearing his consistently stoic wife gasp, watching her tremble and crack was enough to temporarily steady him. If there was such a thing as biological auto-pilot, he quickly adopted the technique, curving himself around the table just in time to wrap himself protectively around her. He kissed the top of her head repeatedly, and she let out a few sobs into his chest. He was careful not to squeeze her too tightly, but hearing her cry tore his heart in two; he knew that her mother had struggled with her pregnancy, even that her family had a history of long and difficult pregnancies. As happy as she must’ve been, she was also frightened, and he couldn’t blame her. If she was frightened, he was terrified. He didn’t want to think right then and there about there being complications with the pregnancy, so he allowed himself the respite of holding her. Counting to sixty in his head, he gradually eased his grip, stepping back now to look her in the eyes. With one hand, he gently tilted her chin up towards him, wiping the wetness from her cheeks. “It’s okay,” Carlo said softly, “you’re going to be okay, Lorenza.” Saying her name grounded him, and he hoped it did the same for her.
When it seemed as if she had regained some control, he helped her settle down into the chair opposite the one he’d used to keep from falling. Slowly he crossed back to the other side of the table, seating himself once again across from her like he did every night, familiar but now completely new. He molded his hand around hers when she reached over, and at her touch, it became his turn to let out a few long, wracking sobs. “God,” he sputtered, both in exclamation and in thanksgiving, “I’m sorry.” She shouldn’t have been comforting him, but that was their dynamic, and they’d both grown accustomed to the routine. At least, he thought, I’m happy. And he was. He’d never been so elated; her agreeing to marry him had been the closest he’d ever come to this. He listened to her speak as best he could, though he had trouble focusing with so many thoughts running rampant in his brain. He even tried to laugh when she admitted her false pregnancy, but the sound he made was much closer to another sob. “I-I know we never talked about it,” he began, “I-I just w-wasn’t sure when the right t-time would be. But I want it. I mean, of course I want it. It’s… ours,” he breathed, shoving a trembling hand through his hair. “How do you feel? I… I know you must be scared.”
Leaning against the back of the chair, Lorenza stretched her legs out under the table, accidentally brushing up against Carlo’s pant leg. In a sense, she was in her own little world. She could see his mouth moving, but she couldn’t make out the words. Fighting the urge to rub her burning eyes, she tucked her hands under her thighs and focused her gaze on his clenched jaw. He was openly weeping as he spoke, something that had completely startled her when they first met. Before Carlo, she’d been used to a certain type of man- no tears, all masculinity. Even her war-torn father struggled to show that kind of emotion in front of her and her mother.
Blinking, she noticed Carlo had stopped speaking, though his face seemed as if he was waiting for an answer. His eyes, though still welled with tears, conveyed compassion, adoration, and even patience. Of course, she thought, he’s always patient. Over the past few years, Lorenza had done quite a few things that would’ve driven any other man over the edge... but not Carlo. Never Carlo. It wasn’t hard to see that he held Lorenza on the highest possible pedestal, and while it was something she occasionally enjoyed, the fear of disappointing him was overwhelming. Living up to his expectations of her was almost daunting to say the least, and she often felt like she wasn’t actually good enough for him. He was everything she wasn’t, and she wondered if being polar opposites truly helped shape a marriage. “I-uh, sorry... I zoned out,” she mumbled, heat rising to her cheeks out of embarrassment, “But this isn’t something you need to worry about. It... It’s still early. I’m only about a month long, and I don’t think I’m telling anyone else until after the first trimester,” she breathed in, hoping to God that what she was saying answered the questions Carlo asked her, “for obvious reasons.”
