31. Summer
31
SUMMER
T he morning had started like any other. Ava sat cross-legged on the living room floor, Bunny perched beside her as she worked on a new puzzle Enzo had brought over a few days ago. Her giggles filled the room as she tried to fit the wrong pieces together on purpose, turning to me with an exaggerated pout every time they didn’t fit.
But by midday, something felt… off.
“Ava, sweetheart, are you okay?” I asked, noticing how sluggishly she was moving.
“I’m tired, Mommy,” she said, rubbing her eyes.
I frowned, kneeling beside her and brushing her curls back from her face. Her skin felt warm, and there was a faint bruise on her forearm that hadn’t been there yesterday.
“You didn’t fall, did you?” I asked, pointing to the bruise.
She shook her head slowly, her usual spark dim. “No, Mommy.”
Panic bloomed in my chest. Something wasn’t right.
I grabbed my phone and dialed Enzo, pacing the living room as I waited for him to pick up.
“Summer? Everything okay?” he asked, his tone immediately alert.
“It’s Ava,” I said, my voice trembling. “She’s acting really tired, and she’s got a bruise on her arm that I don’t remember seeing before. I don’t know what’s going on, but I have a bad feeling.”
“Okay,” he said, his voice calm but firm. “Take a deep breath. Is she running a fever?”
“Maybe,” I said, glancing back at her. “She feels warm.”
“I’m coming over,” he said without hesitation. “We’ll take her to the hospital together.”
By the time Enzo arrived, Ava was curled up on the couch, her head resting on Bunny. She barely stirred when he knelt beside her, his hand gently pressing against her forehead.
“She’s definitely warm,” he said, his jaw tightening. “We’re not waiting. Let’s go.”
I grabbed Ava’s favorite blanket and my purse, my hands trembling as I helped him lift her into his arms.
The drive to the hospital felt like it took an eternity, though it was less than ten minutes. Ava lay quietly in the back seat, her eyes half-closed, while I held her hand tightly.
When we arrived, Enzo carried her inside, his presence commanding as he quickly explained the situation to the nurse at the front desk. Within moments, we were ushered into an exam room, the sterile smell of disinfectant filling the air.
A pediatrician arrived shortly after, her smile kind but professional as she examined Ava. “We’ll need to run some blood tests,” she said gently. “Her symptoms could be related to her platelet levels, given her medical history.”
I nodded, my stomach twisting. “Do whatever you need to.”
Ava whimpered as the nurse prepared the needle, and I sat beside her, holding her hand tightly. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” I said softly, brushing her hair back. “I’m right here.”
“It hurts, Mommy,” she said, tears welling in her eyes.
“I know, baby,” I said, my voice breaking. “It’ll be over soon.”
Enzo stood on the other side of the bed, his hand resting gently on Ava’s leg. “You’re so brave, Ava. You’re doing amazing,” he said, his voice calm and reassuring.
Her tears subsided slightly at his words, and I felt a pang of gratitude for his steady presence.
An hour later, the pediatrician returned with the results. Her expression was serious but measured. “Ava’s platelet levels are critically low. It’s likely why she’s been bruising easily and feeling so lethargic.”
My heart sank. “What does that mean? What happens now?”
“We’ll need to admit her for observation,” the doctor said. “We’ll monitor her closely and run additional tests to determine the best course of action.”
I nodded, my hands trembling as I looked down at Ava. She was so small, so fragile, and it felt like the ground beneath me was crumbling.
While the nurses prepped Ava’s room, Enzo and I stepped into the hallway, the fluorescent lights casting harsh shadows across his face.
“This is my fault,” I said, my voice barely above a whisper.
“What?” he asked, his brow furrowing.
“I should have noticed sooner,” I said, wrapping my arms around myself. “The bruises, the tiredness… I should have done something.”
“Stop,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “You’re an amazing mom, Summer. You’ve done everything right.”
Tears stung my eyes as I shook my head. “But what if it’s not enough?”
“It is,” he said, his voice softening. “Ava is lucky to have you. And she’s going to get through this. We both are.”
I looked up at him, his calm determination grounding me. “Thank you,” I whispered.
“Always,” he said simply.
Back in Ava’s room, she was propped up on the bed, Bunny clutched tightly to her chest. Her eyes were wide and glassy, her small voice trembling as she asked, “Am I going to be okay, Mommy?”
“You’re going to be just fine, sweetheart,” I said, sitting beside her and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “The doctors are going to take care of you.”
“And so are we,” Enzo added, pulling up a chair on the other side of her bed.
Ava looked between us, her lip trembling. “You won’t leave, right?”
“Never,” I said firmly, taking her hand in mine.
“Not for a second,” Enzo added, his hand resting gently on her blanket-covered leg.
As the hours passed, the reality of the situation began to sink in. Nurses came and went, checking her vitals and administering medications, their movements efficient and precise.
I sat by Ava’s side the entire time, my fingers brushing through her curls as she drifted in and out of sleep. Enzo stayed close, stepping out only to speak with the doctors or grab us something to drink.
“She’s strong,” he said quietly as we sat together, the soft beeping of the monitors filling the silence.
“She gets that from you,” I said, glancing at him.
He shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. “She gets it from both of us.”
That night, as Ava slept, I leaned back in the chair, exhaustion weighing heavily on me. Enzo sat beside me, his hand resting lightly on mine.
“We’re going to get through this,” he said softly, his voice steady.
I nodded, the warmth of his touch anchoring me. “Together.”
“Always,” he said, and for the first time since the day had started, I believed it.