Oblivion

25

Adrian
"I'm home Alessia!" I holler, but no response. I walk into the kitchen, seeing something on the counter. It was a picture of the two of us, with a plus one drawn on it between us.

"Alessia what's this about?" I yell. Still no response. I grab the paper and walk upstairs to our room. And of course, she's in the bathroom throwing up again. "You're pregnant aren't you?" I ask, leaning against the door frame.

Alessia looks up, wiping the vomit from her face, she throws a stick at me. "Take a look for yourself." Alessia mumbles.

"Positive"

My heart jumps a little, "We can't get all ecstatic or anything, I will probably just miscarry again." Alessia groans, "It's so miserable, I go through all of this, just to miscarry." Alessia begins to cry, and then starts to heave. I rush down next to her, holding her hair behind her head as she hurls.

"You don't know you'll miscarry again." I tell her. "It's, I'm going off of past experiences here Adrian." She responds. "That only happened once, it'll be better now, we're married and we don't have anybody to worry about. Mario is dead." I explain, thinking it will reassure her. "Mario is dead? How?" Alessia asks.

"He, he hung himself baby."

"Oh my god."

"I know."

Alessia sits at the toilet, taking in what news I told her. "When I first met him, he wasn't awful, I swear." She frantically explains. I rub her shoulder, "I know, but when he first lay eyes on you, him and Slain both started getting little infatuation type situations for you." I explain to her.

"So it's my fault?" Alessia begins to cry, "No, no, baby, it's not your fault, don't think for a moment it is." I reassure her.

She nods, "Do you need help up?" I ask her, offering my hand. Alessia shakes her head no. We walk to the bed, and turn on the television. "You choose." I tell Alessia.

Alessia seems very down that she's pregnant again. Granted I'm scared on the type of dad I'll be, but there's only one way to find out. And that's to have a child. But are we ever really safe in the mafia? No. The answer will always be no. For all I know, my father could've managed to survive. But I highly doubt it.

Alessia turns on some show I've never heard of, and it's super annoying. "Do you like that girly girl type shit?" I ask. "It's not girly girl." Alessia hisses.

"Sure."

"Adrian stop, it's not girly girl."

I laugh, "What?" Alessia smiles. "See, I just needed that beautiful smile of yours to come out." I smile back at her. "You know, I never thought I'd see you smile. Ever." Alessia chuckles. "Why was that?" I ask her, seriously intrigued now. "Well, you were always into your own world. And your own world was never happy." Alessia sighs. I tilt my head, "And your world was?" I ask her. Alessia sighs again before speaking, "I don't know, I don't know how I managed to have a smile on my face, because after the, y-years of a-a-abuse." Alessia stutters, starting to cry slightly.

"Don't cry baby, it's okay, you're away from that now. You are here, with me, and our child." I explain, resting my hand on her flat belly.

I wipe away her tears that try to escape her eyes, "It's okay." I tell her, kissing her. Alessia cracks a small smile, making me smile in response.