Chapter 29
“Shhhh… I know asking you to be calm right now sounds impossible to you, cara mia, but you need to be strong in this moment… for yourself and for Lucca,” Martha said when I broke down crying for the third time in less than fifteen minutes of her visit.
“Lucca is being very well cared for, so focus on your recovery so you can get out of here as soon as possible and take care of him yourself.”
“And what if Thor won’t let me? I-I didn’t do… I didn’t do any of what he’s thinking, Auntie. I swear. I didn’t. He… That woman…”
“I know, cara mia.” Her hand slid over my hair.
“I believe you. I know you would never hurt that baby. Did you forget I followed your pregnancy up close? I saw your love for him bloom, your dedication, the care you put into every detail of his little room. I could sit here all afternoon listing the things you did for that child, things only a mother does for her son. That can’t be acted, Antonella. It shows in the eyes.”
I drew back, looking at her through my blurry eyes.
“Tell him that, Auntie. He doesn’t believe me. Apparently, he never did, but with you it’s different. Thor will believe you.”
“The truth always comes out, dear, no matter how hidden it is…”
Her motivational words fell on deaf ears.
“…Your mother called.”
My eyes shot to her.
“You didn’t…?”
“No. Don’t worry, nothing came out of my mouth. I did as I promised, even though I think it’s a mistake. You should tell her…”
“And tell her what, Auntie? Give her more problems than I already have? It seems like that’s the only thing I’m good at doing… Anyway, I didn’t lie. No one lied.”
“But we didn’t tell the truth either, not all of it.”
“And say what, Auntie?”
Knowing that at least she had believed me from the beginning, even when the circumstances weren’t in my favor, was reassuring, but it was also infuriating that the others had doubted me.
It didn’t matter if there was false evidence staging a lying truth against me, or if it planted doubts in people simply because they were human.
They—Pietra and Heithor—should have believed me, especially him.
After everything we had lived through and the love he claimed to feel for me, Heithor should have given me the benefit of the doubt. Fuck. He should have just trusted me!
Fought with me, argued his doubts, given me the chance to refute the accusations, any damn thing. After all, we had a deal… one that had never been worth anything.
As for Josie, I didn’t know what to think. It wasn’t as if I’d given her the chance to say whether she trusted me or not, though she was probably doubting me too.
My family, I didn’t know whether they were a problem or a solution.
They could be both. Except for Rocco, they could help me, but Heithor, on the other hand, could simply disappear with my baby if he didn’t have even the tiniest bit of faith in me.
Or worse, even my own people could believe that lie.
When it came to me, anything was possible.
You know. I had that unwanted intimacy with bad luck.
I needed to talk to Heithor, make him believe me even a little, before bringing my family into this. Right now, they would only get in the way.
***
Almost a month later.
I was finally being discharged.
The relief was so great I hadn’t even slept the night before I left. A pit of anxiety and expectation churned in my stomach.
My ribs still bothered me, but rest would do the trick. The stitches from the C-section had been removed. I would still have to wear a sling on my bandaged arm and an orthopedic boot for a while. Make periodic visits to the hospital and the physical therapist.
Yeah, I was a wonder, but I was okay and getting out of that damn room.
Early in the morning, when Pietra showed up to take me home, I almost collapsed from how excited I was to get out of there. I swear to you. If not for my weakness, I would have dragged Pietra with me and run the whole way out of that place without looking back once.
After all that time, I was going to see my son.
Not only that, I would see Heithor too. I was pissed at him, but I missed him like crazy too.
It seemed believable that we would talk and fix everything.
My hope and my galloping heart wouldn’t let me think otherwise, and even if they could have, I wouldn’t have. I couldn’t.
I closed my eyes and smiled, savoring the gust of wind and the sea breeze on my face, the warmth of the winter sun spilling over my skin when we reached the highway.
Pietra parked the car and helped me get out.
“Take this to Antonella’s room,” she was telling one of the staff while I stared at the contemporary facade of the mansion. “Shall we?”
I took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
I’m home.
My heart was suddenly half desperate. One foot at a time. My nerves crackling with restlessness.
My hands began to sweat.
I breathed, each inhale heavy in my lungs, chilling my belly.
The living room opened before me…
I froze in a trance.
A singular sound filled my ears, and my eyes searched for its owner, and when I found him, it was like reconnecting. My heart began to pulse, pounding against my ribs. My throat closed. Tears filled my eyes.
I let out a trembling breath.
On the large white sofa, facing me, Martha held a small bundle.
My baby. My Lucca.
A mixture of sensations and feelings warmed my chest and suspended me in time, as if everything, every second of what I had endured, had all come down to this moment: him and me.
I moved toward him on autopilot, despite the sudden trembling taking over my legs. With every step, I was closer, yet still so far away, as if I were walking on a treadmill, covering miles without leaving the same place.
I stopped when I was closer. I don’t know why. I just stopped.
“Welcome back, bambina,” Martha said.
It took a lifetime for me to tear my eyes from my baby and glance at her before filling my mind again with the partial sight of his little face.
“Come, cara mia. Sit here.” I blinked, and the first fat tears fell. “Come meet your baby.”
I went. I never looked away, not until I slid in beside them.
Martha shifted to the side, giving me a clear view of my son.
Lucca opened his little eyes for me, as if he knew who I was, and made a tiny sound that traveled through me and carved itself into my heart, swollen with love.
And in that exact moment, my world stopped spinning.
A smile of wonder reached my eyes, then spread across my face, lifting the corners of my mouth as far as they could go.
Radiating happiness took on new shades and meanings, and finally made perfect sense.
Nothing compared, and nothing ever could.
The love I had for myself and for Heithor—which I had believed nothing could come close to, equal, or surpass—proved in that moment to be a mistake.
What I felt for that baby transcended my self-love, my own existence.
I had loved him long before I saw him. I had loved him even before I realized it, back when I had been stupid and damned enough to reject him; even that feeling I had already thought was too big for my chest couldn’t compare to the love that suddenly bloomed.
Strong and solid. Rooted in the deepest part of my soul.
And I knew with absolute certainty that I would never stop loving this tiny being, under any circumstances, even if someday he hurt me deeply again and again, countless times. It wouldn’t matter what Lucca did, where he was, I would still go on loving him beyond myself.
I would be capable of anything to defend, protect, and guarantee his happiness.
I would hurt for him.
I would kill for him.
“He’s welcoming Mommy, isn’t he, Lucca?”
Pietra’s voice sounded faint somewhere far away in my head.
I moved my good hand toward him, only then realizing it was trembling. I held the collar of his outfit, which hid part of his chin from my eyes. I wanted to see every inch of him. Nothing hidden from my knowledge.
And I wanted to touch… and I did.
The tip of my index finger brushed lightly over his tiny chin, moved up and down, tracing his full, rosy cheek. His skin was so soft and smooth, so delicate, I was afraid I might hurt him with the simplest graze.
“Do you want to hold him?” I looked at her. “Come on, hold your baby.”
“He must be eager to feel mamma’s arms,” Pietra encouraged in the face of my awed hesitation and Lucca’s low grumble. “Or maybe he knows his feeding has arrived. See how he’s already moving his lips, like he knows his endless milk source is only a few inches away? He’s greedy!”
My smile stretched all the way to my ears, dazed, happy, and everything else included in the whole package of wonder. I had eyes only for him.
“If I’m not mistaken, someone here nursed until she was two,” Aunt Martha said, shaking off a little of my stupor. “And not from a bottle either.”
“Really, mamma? I bet it was Heithor, right? Like father, like son.”
Martha moved her hands around Lucca as she spoke to me. “Come on, take him. I imagine you’re very eager to do this, aren’t you?”
“Sì.”
Fear replaced my smile when I remembered the sling.
“Don’t worry, dear, I’ll help you… Pietra, get that pillow… No, the other one… Put it on her lap. It’s so your arm won’t get too tired. He’s a heavy little thing.”
Lucca grumbled several times, annoyed at being moved, and I went tense for a moment, but Martha seemed very sure as she arranged him for me.
“Here… hold him like this, making sure his little head is supported. That’s it.” And she added, “He doesn’t like lying completely flat… he wants to see everything around him.”
In my arms, Lucca grumbled one last time and settled, his little hands fluttering and his delicate eyelids blinking sweetly. His eyes, as black as Heithor’s, focused on me. A recognition I felt in my core. Happiness wrapped around my lips and turned into tears of raw emotion.
My eyes were dazzled.
“See? I told you Auntie’s beautiful little thing is greedy,” Pietra joked when he moved his mouth toward my breast.
I stopped hearing Pietra. Every sense I had was turned toward Lucca.
His thick, straight hair felt wonderful against my arm. Not too much, not too little, just perfect. It was very dark. It shone. And it was so silky, tempting my fingers to run endlessly through the strands, though my condition made it impossible for me to do two things at once.
Regardless of his size, because he was big, healthy, and heavy, but right for my arms, everything about Lucca was intensely delicate.
I lowered my head and closed my eyes when I breathed deeply, filling my lungs with his scent. Oh, God, his scent…
“Forgive me, sweetheart… I’m sorry for everything,” I whispered only to him, my low voice thick with rising emotion. “I love you so, so much, Lucca.”
His needy little murmur made me drunk with happiness.
I rested my lips on his forehead in a soft kiss.
I never wanted to let him go again. There, with him within reach of my eyes and my hands, all that time banished from his presence now seemed like only a tiny black speck, almost imperceptible in my life.
Any thorny road that might appear before me would be nothing if, at the end, my reward was him.
“Isn’t he the most beautiful, perfect thing you’ve ever seen, babe?”
A slow, tender smile curved the corners of my lips.
No, he was more than beautiful and beyond perfect.
He was mine.