34. Summer
34
SUMMER
T he soft hum of the IV pump filled the room, a constant backdrop to the slow, steady rhythm of Ava’s breathing. She was propped up in bed, Bunny nestled under one arm, her coloring book open but forgotten on her lap. She looked so small against the hospital sheets, her usual energy dulled by exhaustion.
I sat beside her, smoothing her curls as she leaned into my touch. Enzo stood near the window, his phone in hand, scrolling through some medical notes. He’d been like this for days—focused, determined, ready to take charge of whatever came next.
We both knew surgery was coming. It had been part of the plan from the start, an eventuality we’d steeled ourselves for. But hearing Dr. Taylor earlier that day—her calm but firm voice explaining that Ava’s condition had worsened faster than expected—was like having the rug pulled out from under us.
“The transfusions are helping,” Dr. Taylor had said, “but not enough. We’re going to have to move up the timeline for surgery.”
I’d nodded then, numb, but now the weight of her words pressed heavily on my chest.
“Mommy,” Ava murmured, her small voice pulling me from my thoughts.
“Yes, sweetheart?” I asked, leaning closer.
“Am I going to have my surgery soon?” she asked, her wide blue eyes filled with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
I glanced at Enzo, who had turned to listen, his expression calm but alert. Taking a deep breath, I brushed a curl from her face. “Yes, baby. The doctors want to do it soon so you can feel better faster.”
She frowned, her little fingers tightening around Bunny. “Will it hurt?”
Enzo stepped forward, crouching beside the bed. “The doctors will make sure you don’t feel anything during the surgery,” he said gently. “And afterward, Mommy and I will be here to help you feel better.”
“Promise?” she whispered, her lip trembling.
“Promise,” we both said in unison, exchanging a glance that steadied me.
Later, after Ava had fallen asleep, Enzo and I sat on the small couch by the window. The tension in the room felt suffocating, and the silence was heavy with everything we weren’t saying.
“We knew this was coming,” I said quietly, my hands twisting in my lap.
“I know,” Enzo replied, his voice low. “But not this soon.”
I let out a shaky breath, staring at my hands. “I feel like we’re running out of time.”
He turned to me, his dark eyes filled with determination. “We’re not. The doctors are doing everything they can, and so are we.”
“I just…” My voice broke, and I covered my face with my hands. “I hate seeing her like this, Enzo. She’s so small, so?—”
“She’s strong,” he said firmly, cutting me off. “She’s stronger than either of us.”
I laughed bitterly, wiping at my tears. “That doesn’t make it any easier.”
“No, it doesn’t,” he admitted, his voice softening. “But we’re in this together, Summer. We’re going to get through it. For her.”
The next morning, Ava seemed to regain a spark of her usual energy. She asked for her coloring book and giggled as Enzo tried to draw a picture of Bunny, the resulting sketch so lopsided that even she couldn’t tell what it was supposed to be.
“That’s not Bunny!” Ava said, her laughter echoing through the room.
“It is!” Enzo protested, grinning as he held up the page. “It’s just… a creative version.”
“Mommy, tell him it’s not Bunny,” Ava said, turning to me with a mischievous smile.
I chuckled, shaking my head. “It’s definitely not Bunny.”
Enzo pretended to look offended, but the way he looked at Ava—his eyes soft and full of love—made my heart ache.
That evening, after the doctors had completed their rounds and the room had quieted, I found myself staring out the window, the city lights twinkling in the distance.
“I’m scared,” I admitted softly, my voice breaking the silence.
Enzo stepped behind me, his hands resting lightly on my shoulders. “Me too.”
I turned to face him, tears welling in my eyes. “What if something goes wrong, Enzo? What if?—”
“Hey,” he said gently, cupping my face in his hands. “Don’t go there. Ava is strong, and we’re going to make sure she gets through this.”
I leaned into his touch, his steady presence grounding me. “I don’t think I could do this without you,” I whispered.
“You don’t have to,” he said, his voice firm. “You’ll never have to.”