Quinn
I hear a low beeping sound. I try to turn toward the sound, but it hurts. My entire body feels like it’s on fire, and I don’t know why. I open my eyes and see that I’m in a hospital bed, and just like that everything comes flooding back to me.
“Hey,” I hear someone say softly and I turn to see a young nurse looking at me with kind eyes. “You’re awake. How are you feeling?”
“Sore,” I reply and wince at the sound of my voice, it sounds like a dirt bike.
“That’s to be expected,” she replies. “You gave everyone a fright last night.”
“Last night?” I repeat. “How long was I asleep?”
“Fourteen hours,” the nurse tells me. “Your body needed the rest to heal.”
“I didn’t mean to, I had no idea there was peanuts in the food.”
“No one had any idea,” I hear Lorenzo growl and turn my head. I can’t help but smile at him, even looking disheveled he’s still gorgeous. He looks exhausted.
“Did you sleep here?”
Before he can answer, the nurse interrupts with a smile. “I’ve taken your vitals, everything looks good. I’ll leave you two alone.”
She leaves the room, and I breathe deeply. God, I feel like I’ve been hit by a Mack truck.
"Quinn." His voice is rough. "Quinn, look at me."
I turn to him and smile as he reaches for my face. "I'm looking," I say. My voice comes out raspy.
His eyes move over me, my face, throat, hands, and then back to my face again.
"Lorenzo," I say.
"Give me a minute."
"I'm fine."
"Give me a minute," he says again, and something in his voice makes me give him the minute.
He takes a breath, his hands are still on my face, his thumbs trace along my cheekbones. I inhale deeply, loving his touch on me.
"Hi," I say, when the minute is up.
His lips twitch slightly and I see him exhale deeply. "Hi," he says.
"Did you sleep in that chair?" I ask once again.
"Yes."
"Lorenzo—"
"You scared the shit out of me." The words come out flat. "Don't do that again."
I breathe. "I'll try."
"Don't try." He pulls the chair closer and sits, and reaches for my hand. "Don't do it."
"Were you here all night?" I ask.
"Yes."
"You should have—"
"Quinn,” he says, just my name, but then that’s all that he needs to say to stop me arguing. "How do you feel?" he asks.
"My throat hurts." I swallow again, testing it. "I feel like I got hit by a truck." I look at our hands. "Is everyone alright?"
"Everyone is alright," he says. "Everyone except me." He holds my gaze. "I aged ten years last night."
I grin at his theatrics. "You look fine."
"I feel a hundred."
I try to smile but my eyes feel heavy and I’m struggling to keep them open. “Sleep, baby, I’ll be here when you wake.” I feel his lips against mine, a soft brush of them, and then I’m pulled into sleep.
I wake up to find Lorenzo exactly where I left him when I passed out. He's sitting beside the bed, one hand wrapped around mine. His shirt is creased and he looks even more exhausted. The second he realizes I'm awake, he leans closer to me.
"Hey." His voice is rough, like he hasn't slept, and I wouldn’t be surprised if he hasn’t.
I squeeze his hand. "Hey."
I get lost in that gorgeous face of his as his eyes scan my face. There's so much I want to ask, like, what happened when I passed out, and why won't he stop staring at me like he's making sure I'm actually here?
But before I can say any of it, there's a knock at the door and the doctor walks in and smiles politely. "Good morning, Mrs. Mariano."
"Good morning," I reply softly.
She starts checking monitors and observations and Lorenzo doesn't let go of my hand.
The doctor makes a note on the chart. "Your breathing sounds good."
I feel relief wash through me. "That's encouraging."
"It is." She smiles and then looks back at the chart. "Has anyone spoken to you about your bloodwork?"
I frown. "What bloodwork?"
The doctor looks up. "Mrs. Mariano, you're pregnant."
I stare at her, unable to stop the panic rising through me. "What?" I whisper.
She glances down at the notes again and nods. "Approximately eight weeks."
My mouth opens in shock. "Eight weeks?"
"Yes."
I look at Lorenzo, his gaze is firmly on me, watching me carefully and something twists in my chest. "You knew."
He nods. "The doctor told me last night."
I stare at him in shock. "And you didn't tell me?"
"You were unconscious."
I narrow my eyes at him, hating that he’s making sense. I look back at the doctor, the word pregnant ringing in my head, and it starts to make sense: the sickness, the exhaustion, and the nausea. They were all signs that I was pregnant. I am pregnant.
Oh my God.
My hand goes to my stomach before I even think about it and the movement makes something inside me crack. I'm struggling to wrap my head around this.
"Wow," I breathe, as a lone tear slides down my face.
"Your blood work looks good," the doctor says. “We’ll do an ultrasound before you’re released to ensure everything is perfect.”
"Ultrasound ?” I echo.
The doctor nods. “Yes, we’ll be able to see your baby, just to check that everything is okay and the baby’s progressing as it should be.”
My breath catches in my throat. A baby. Mine, no, ours. Last night I couldn't breathe. Oh God, I could have lost our baby.
A sob escapes me and within seconds I’m a sobbing mess as I press my hands against my stomach where our baby is.
"Hey." Lorenzo's hands cups my face. "Look at me."
I look at him through blurry vision as I continue to sob.
"Quinn?" he asks and I can hear the worry in his voice.
I shake my head and press my hand harder against my stomach.
"We almost lost the baby," I sob.
"She's fine," he says. "You're fine, and our baby is fine." His voice is calming.
I breathe in. "She?"
His lips twitch. "He. She. I don't know.” he shrugs. “I defaulted to she."
"Did you?"
He shakes his head and presses a kiss to my lips.
I inhale deeply, loving how attentive he is. "I thought it was stress," I whisper, horrified at how wrong I was. "For two weeks I thought it was stress."
He presses a kiss to my forehead and holds it there. "I know."
The doctor leaves a few minutes later, promising to arrange the scan and reminding me to rest. The second the door closes, silence settles over the room. Lorenzo sits on the edge of the bed and takes my hand.
His thumb brushes over my knuckles, back and forth, like he needs to keep touching me to remind himself I'm here.
I look at him, he’s got dark circles under his eyes, and stubble on his jaw, he looks utterly exhausted. "You still haven't slept."
His jaw tightens. "Not really."
"Lorenzo." His eyes lift to mine, and I swallow hard. "Talk to me," I plead.
Pain flashes across his face. "You stopped breathing properly." I go still and his hand tightens around mine. "The EpiPen wasn't enough." I watch him release a ragged breath. "I thought I lost you."
My chest aches. "Lorenzo."
His eyes close briefly. "I was sitting in that ambulance thinking about what I was going to do if you didn't wake up."
My throat tightens.
"I couldn't figure it out." His voice is rough. "Because there wasn't a version of it that made sense."
A tear slips down my face, and then another. He notices immediately and reaches for me. "Hey."
I take a shaky breath, then another, and I'm tired of holding back, tired of waiting, and tired of being scared. "I love you."
Lorenzo freezes, I don't think I've ever seen him look shocked before.
"I love you," I say again, hoping he won’t reject me.
His eyes don't leave mine. "Quinn," he says thickly.
My stomach flips. I love the way he says my name. "I mean it," I tell him.
His hands comes up to my face. The warmth of them seeps into my skin. "I know," he says simply.
I gape at him and he just laughs at me, he drops his forehead down to mine, the laughter easing as he grins at me. He presses a kiss to my lips. "I love you too."
And just like that, every broken, bruised part of me settles, and I know that we’re going to be okay.
The door opens and Lorenzo steps back from me. I instantly miss the heat, but within seconds, I’m pulled into Valentina’s arms.
"Val," I say, leaning against her.
"Don't," she says. "Don't say you're fine. Don't."
"I was going to say I'm glad you're here."
She pulls back and looks at me with red eyes. "Well," she says. "Good. How are you feeling about the baby?"
I grin at her. “Excited. I can’t believe we’re having a baby. You’re going to be an auntie.”
She bursts into tears and Lorenzo makes a huffing sound. Thankfully Vittoria comes in and puts her arms around me so I don’t hear what he says, because no doubt, he’d have said something that would have annoyed Valentina.
"I’m so glad you’re okay, Quinn,” Vittoria whispers and when she pulls back I see that her eyes are bright.
"You didn't tell me," I accuse her. I remember the weird looks she was giving me yesterday morning.
"You asked me not to."
I huff, semantics. "I meant don't tell Lorenzo. I didn't say don't tell me I might be pregnant."
She has the decency to look slightly guilty. "I wasn't certain."
"Vittoria," I say with a raised brow.
"I was fairly certain," she admits. "But I thought..." She sighs. "I thought you needed to find out in your own time. I was wrong," she says. "I'm sorry."
I shake my head. "You weren't wrong," I say. "I would have dismissed it, just like I always do. I bury my head in the sand." I grin. "Next time, tell me anyway."
She nods and smiles back. "Next time."
Cesare crosses the room and stands beside the bed. He looks down at me. "Don't do that again," he says.
I try not to laugh at the seriousness in his voice. "I'll try," I say.
"Don't try." He holds my gaze. "Don't do it."
I breathe. "Okay."
He nods, satisfied with my answer and he reaches forward and puts his hand on my shoulder, briefly, before stepping back and stands beside Lorenzo. Within seconds they’re talking quietly and I know that they’re talking business.
I look at Vittoria and see that she's smiling at me. “He loves you,” she whispers, so that only I can hear her. “He was worried.”
I glance across the room and see that Lorenzo is still talking quietly with Cesare. I can't hear what they're saying, but whatever it is has both of them looking serious.
As though he feels me watching him, Lorenzo looks over. His expression softens immediately. I smile and my heart stutters when he smiles back.
Then his phone starts ringing and I watch as the smile disappears. He pulls his phone from his pocket and looks at the screen. His features harden and beside him, Cesare goes still and my stomach drops. What now?
"Talk to me," Lorenzo says, his voice cold and all business.
He doesn’t say anything as he listens intently to whoever he’s on the phone with.
When the call ends, he looks at his father and then at me and announces. "We found her."
My breath leaves me in one rapid whoosh.
Daire. They found her.
The look on Lorenzo's face tells me everything I need to know.
He won't let her disappear again, not after last night, not after what she did.
A tear slips down my cheek and I quickly wipe it away before anyone notices.
As much as I hate her, she's still my sister. And God, I wish things had been different.
I wish she'd loved me. I wish she'd wanted me around. I wish she'd looked at me and seen a sister instead of someone to hurt.
But she didn't, and she never will.
Lorenzo looks over at me. Our eyes meet and his expression softens, only for a second, but then it's gone.
He slips his phone into his pocket and walks toward me.
I already know, this is the end.