25. Colette
25
Colette
G uilt rests on my shoulders as Henry leads me away from Antonio's hospital room. I can't shake the feeling of abandoning him, especially when he had just regained consciousness. It gnaws at me, a relentless ache in my chest that refuses to be ignored.
How could I leave him like that?
As we walk, my mind drifts back to the moment I woke up to Gabi and Henry beside me.
The worry etched into their faces was unmistakable, while Leo continued to pace.
"Are you okay, Colette? Can you stand?" Gabi asks, her voice laced with anxiety. Her concern is always so genuine.
I hate to worry about her.
Henry's inquiry follows, his tone cautious yet brimming with sibling concern. "Are you ill?" he asks, his words tinged with worry. Henry's always been the protective big brother. Sometimes, it smothers me. I understand how Antonio feels when people always treat you like glass.
"I haven't eaten," I confess, the words feeling heavy on my tongue. It’s true. Since learning about Antonio's disappearance, my appetite had vanished, replaced by a knot of anxiety.
Once I catch my breath, there's a sense of urgency driving me forward. "Let's go find Antonio," I say, my voice firm with determination. "I'm okay now. I can stand." And so, we leave the mansion until we reach Antonio's bedside at the hospital.
The sight of him lying there, pale and vulnerable, fills me with a wave of emotion. He looks so fragile, so unlike the vibrant man I know him to be. I try to reassure him, to tell him that everything will be okay. I can’t kiss him because Leo is here. Instead, I settle for a gentle squeeze of his hand.
Now, as I glance at Henry, I can see the tension in his shoulders and the worried look on his face. Henry guides me through the sterile hospital corridors, and I feel a sense of detachment wash over me. It's as though I'm moving through molasses, my thoughts sluggish and unfocused. But beneath the surface, a current of anxiety still simmers, threatening to bubble over at any moment.
"Where are we going?" I murmur, just as we arrive at a door marked "Doctor's Office." Henry pushes the door open, and we step into a small, stark room where a woman in a white coat awaits us.
“Hello, I am Dr. Nia,” she introduces herself, her voice clinical. I nod in response, my mind elsewhere on Antonio.
Dr. Nia's questions come in rapid-fire succession. "Can you tell me what you were doing before you fainted?" she inquires, her tone gentle but insistent. I swallow hard, trying to recall the events leading up to my collapse.
"Um... I was... with my brother. We had just heard that our missing friend was found," I reply, my voice tinged with uncertainty. Dr. Nia nods, jotting down notes on her clipboard before firing off another question.
That warranted a note?
"Have you been experiencing any dizziness or lightheadedness recently?" she asks, her gaze fixed on me. I hesitate, unsure of how much to reveal.
"Just a little," I admit reluctantly, my cheeks flushing with embarrassment. Dr. Nia nods, her expression thoughtful as she moves on to her next inquiry.
"Do you have a history of fainting spells or similar episodes?" she queries. I shake my head, my heart sinking at the implication of her question.
"No, never," I respond, my mind racing with possibilities. Henry shifts beside me as Dr. Nia finishes her line of questioning.
"Are you feeling okay?" he interjects as he leans in closer.
I nod. "Just tired," I mumble, my words lacking conviction.
Dr. Nia's gaze flickers over to me, her expression unreadable. "When was your last period?" she asks, her tone matter of fact.
I hesitate, my mind racing, to recall the last time I had my period.
Stress, it must be the stress.
But Dr. Nia's pointed gaze tells me otherwise. "Um... it's been a while," I admit, a knot forming in my stomach. “But stress can cause that as well, right?”
She doesn’t answer and hands me a pregnancy test with brisk efficiency, directing me to the restroom. I numbly comply, my mind a whirlwind of conflicting emotions.
Oh, please not now.
In the restroom's solitude, I wait anxiously waited for the test results. My heart is pounding in my chest. When I emerge, the small plastic stick clutched in my hand, and I feel as though the ground has been pulled out from beneath me.
"It's positive," I whisper, my voice audible even to myself against the pounding of my heart.
Henry's eyes widen in disbelief as he stares at the test in my hand. "What does that mean?" he asks, his voice in shock and disbelief.
I shake my head, unable to meet his gaze. "I don't know," I admit, my voice still above a whisper.
Dr. Nia looks between us, her expression unreadable. "Congratulations," she says with forced cheerfulness, though her eyes show a hint of concern.
But Henry isn't celebrating. "Wait, a second. No. What does that mean?" he demands, his voice rising in panic.
Dr. Nia looks between us, confusion turning into realization. "Is this not good news?"
I press a hand to my belly, feeling the weight of the revelation settle over me. "It's my baby, Antonio's and mine," I murmur.
Our baby.
Henry's face pales, his shock giving way to disbelief. "This is bad," he mutters, his voice filled with panic. "This is crazy. Do you not realize this is not a situation to bring a child into?"
“This is not the time to talk about that,” I tell him.
Dr. Nia, sensing the discomfort, coughs and hands me some pamphlets on pregnancy care and childbirth. "It seems you both have a lot to discuss."
Leaving the doctor's office, Henry's words echo in my mind, reverberating with a weight I can comprehend.
Pregnant.
The word lingers in the air like an unspoken promise, filling me with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. Clutching my belly, I can't help but feel a surge of protectiveness, a fierce determination to shield this tiny life growing within me.
Returning to the ward where Antonio lies, Gabi's concerned voice breaks through my reverie as we reenter the room. "What happened? Is she alright?" she asks, her eyes wide with worry.
"Colette's pregnant," Henry announces, his voice tinged with disbelief. The words hang in the air, the room falling silent as the implications sink in. Gabi's expression shifts from concern to shock, her eyes darting between us in disbelief.
Leo's reaction is immediate, his shock and anger obvious as he confronts Henry with a barrage of questions. “How does this look like the situation to bring a baby into?” His words slice through the uncertainty clouding my mind. I shrink under his gaze, feeling the weight of his accusations like a leaden weight upon my shoulders.
There’s your Uncle Leo, baby.
"Hold on, Leo," Henry interjects, his voice firm but strained. "Let's not jump to conclusions here." Gabi's attempts to intervene only seem to escalate the conflict, adding fuel to the already raging fire.
"I can't believe this," Leo continues, his voice rising with each word. "How could you let this happen, Colette? Did you not use protection? Are you insane?"
"Leo, please," Henry pleads with frustration. "We need to handle this calmly." But Leo's anger shows no sign of abating, his words lashing out like a whip.
Gabi steps in, her voice gentle but firm as she attempts to diffuse the escalating emotions coming from her husband. "Leo, calm down," she urges, her hands gently restraining him. But Leo's agitation refuses to be quelled."No, this is ridiculous!" Leo retorts. His accusatory gaze shifts between Henry and me, his expression a mix of disbelief and outrage.
Henry interjects, his voice tinged with exasperation. "Leo, you really need to stop talking to my sister like that," he admonishes, his words a stark reminder of the strain that has been building between them. "You've been taking a lot of things out on Colette lately."
Yes, and I am exhausted. Antonio is safe. Give me a break.
Henry's admission only serves to fuel Leo's anger, his accusations ringing out like a battle cry. "How can you say that?" Leo demands. "This is not the time for a baby. What were you thinking?"
Though Henry acknowledges the gravity of the situation, his resolve remains unshaken. "Yes, it's not a good time for a baby," he concedes. "But regardless, she is pregnant and stressed out."
Meanwhile, I feel utterly overwhelmed. I can't bear to be in this room any longer. I just need some air.
Without a word, I slip out of the room and make my way up to the hospital rooftop. The cool evening air offers some respite from the stifling atmosphere below. I find a secluded spot and sink down, my hand going to my belly once more.
That’s better, right?
As I sit there, staring out into the night sky, a sense of determination washes over me. Despite everything, one thing remains clear — I want this child. I want to be there for them, to be the best mother I can be. Yes, and I want that with Antonio.
The hours slip by unnoticed as I sit, lost in thought.the cool night air chills my bones, and I know it's time to return to the world below. I make my way back to Antonio's room, the corridors of the hospital quiet and dimly lit. The soft glow of the moon filters through the windows, casting eerie shadows on the walls. Henry, Leo, and Gabriela have gone out, leaving Antonio and me alone in the night's stillness.
Thank God.
I approach Antonio's bedside, my heart heavy with worry and sorrow. Even in the dim light of the hospital room, I can see the weariness etched into his features, the shadows beneath his eyes reflecting the ordeal he's endured.
My beautiful man.
But despite the exhaustion, his gaze follows me as I draw near, blinking as he watches me approach. As I settle beside him, the day's events bear down on me, attempting to crush me beneath its oppressive burden. Tears well up in my eyes, spilling over onto my cheeks as I struggle to find the right words to say. But I know I must try, for Antonio's sake, if not for my own.
With a trembling voice, I reach out to him, my hand seeking his in a silent gesture of comfort and support. I want him to know that he's not alone, that I'm here for him, no matter what. And though the words catch in my throat, choked by emotion, I spoke.
"It's okay," I whisper, my voice more than a breath. "I don't blame you. I know how overwhelming it can be, how terrifying. And I want you to know that I understand, that I'm here for you because I understand."
Time to spill.
"I haven't told you everything about my ex," I confess, my voice a whisper. "There's more to it than what I've said. And I think you deserve to know the truth… all of it."
With a heavy heart, I recount the horrors of my past, the memories flooding back. But I push through the pain, driven by a need to share my burden with someone who understands, someone I love.
My heart races as Ricardo's chilling presence fills the room, his figure looming over me like a dark omen. Fear grips me tightly, its icy fingers tightening around my throat, making it hard to breathe. I can feel his anger, heavy and suffocating, like a leaden shroud.
"You ruined my life, you ruined everything for me," he spat in a venomous tone. "It's your fault my life fell apart. If you were a better wife, we would have had a better relationship."
His words break through the silence, each one a painful reminder of the hell I've endured. He blames me for everything, hurling accusations like daggers aimed straight at my heart. I shrink back, trying to make myself smaller, hoping to disappear into the shadows.
"If only you had just kept your mouth shut, Colette, you bitch," he hisses.
I plead with him, begging for mercy, but his eyes are cold, devoid of any compassion. He raises the gun, its metal glinting ominously in the dim light, and my blood runs cold. Panic wells up inside me.
"Please," I whimper, "Don't do this. There's still time to stop." But my words fall on deaf ears, drowned out by the deafening silence that surrounds us. I'm alone, trapped in a nightmare from which there is no escape.
"Colette, are you in? Open the door."
Like a beacon of hope, I hear Henry's voice on the other side of the door, calling out to me. Relief floods through me, washing away some of the fear. But it's short-lived, a fleeting moment of respite in the face of impending doom.
Ricardo's hand trembles as he raises the gun, his finger hovering over the trigger like a sword poised to strike. I scream, my voice raw with terror, my pleas falling on deaf ears because he's not listening. Instead, he’s lost in his twisted reality.
"Col! Col! What is going on?" Henry shouts for me, hearing my scream. The tension in the room mounts. I can feel the walls closing in around me, trapping me in a nightmare from which there is no escape.
"Ricardo, stop this! Henry is here. There's no way you'll get away with this." I try to stop the tremble in my voice.
Henry can't see us, as the window is a one-way glass, and he is trying to break down the door. Panic surges through me, a tidal wave of fear threatening to engulf me.
“Who says I want to get away with anything? " Ricardo responds.
Then, in the blink of an eye, everything changes. Ricardo puts the gun to his head, his actions swift and final. Time seems to stand still as the gunshot echoes through the room, reverberating like the thunderclap outside within the silence that follows.
Blood splatters across the walls and floor, a macabre painting of death and despair. I can taste its metallic tang on my lips, feel its warmth against my skin. It's everywhere, staining everything it touches, an indelible reminder of the horrors that have unfolded.
When Henry bursts through the door, I'm lying on the ground, my body wracked with sobs. He rushes to my side, his hands shaking as he tries to rouse me from my stupor. But all I can see is the blood. The image of Ricardo's lifeless body burned into my mind like a brand.
I take a deep breath, my heart heavy with the weight of the past and the uncertainty of the future. The memories of Ricardo's violence linger in my mind, casting a dark shadow over the present moment.
I meet Antonio's gaze, searching his eyes for any sign of recognition, any hint that he understands the words I'm speaking. And though his expression remains blank, his heart rate on the monitor quickens at the sound of my voice.
"Ricardo deserved what he got," I say, my voice steady, despite the turmoil raging within me. "He deserved to die for what he did to me, for how he treated me. In the end, he even killed himself to break me, to scar me for life."
And he did. But not anymore.
As I speak, I feel a surge of guilt and a conflicting mix of emotions. Guilt for his death, guilt for feeling relieved that he's gone. It's a tangled mess of emotions that I've carried with me for far too long.
"I know you must be feeling something similar," I continue, my voice soft with empathy. "And I want you to know that your feelings are valid. You're going to get better, Antonio. I believe in you."
Because I am going to get better too.
My hand finds his, our fingers intertwining in a silent gesture of solidarity and support.
"I love you," I whisper, the words a declaration of my unwavering devotion. "I love you more than anything in this world."
As I place a gentle hand on my belly, a swell of emotion rises within me. "I want to be good for you, Antonio," I whisper, my voice trembling with emotion. "I want us to be a family, to raise our child together in a home filled with love and laughter."
His heart rate quickens at the mention of our child, a glimmer of hope shining in his eyes. Maybe, just maybe, he can hear me and understand the words I'm saying.
“Yes, our child, Antonio.”
I press a tender kiss to his forehead and allow my lips to linger against his skin. "Henry and Leo may not understand," I mumble, my voice tinged with sadness. "They don’t want us to be together, but I trust us. I trust that we'll be okay, that we'll get through this together."
I have to.
I squeeze his hand gently, willing him to come back to me, to return to the life we've built together. "So, you just focus on getting better," I say, my voice filled with determination. "And come back to me. Come back to us."
With those last words, I lay my head beside his, feeling a flicker of hope. Only time will tell what the future holds for us, but for now, all I can do is wait and pray that Antonio finds his way back to me.
Come back to me. Come back to us.