28. Antonio
28
Antonio
T he sleek leather of the steering wheel feels foreign beneath my fingertips as I guide the car through the winding roads leading back to Shadow's Bend. Each mile marker ticks by with agonizing slowness, the distance between me and my destination stretching out like an infinite chasm.
Eight months .
It's been eight long, grueling months since I last set foot in this town, eight months of battling my demons, day by agonizing day. The road to recovery has been arduous, paved with relentless cravings and the ever-present specter of my past failures looming over me like a dark cloud.
But I've persevered. I've fought, clawed, and bled for every inch of progress, driven by a purpose more powerful than any I've ever known before.
Colette. My child. My family.
The words echo through my mind like a sacred mantra, filling me with a resolve that burns brighter than the midday sun beating down on the windshield. They are the core of my being now, the twin flames that have guided me through dark nights and long, harrowing days.
As the town's familiar silhouette emerges on the horizon, a tremor of anticipation ripples through me. Very little has changed, and yet, there's a strange sense of comfort in the familiarity of these streets, these buildings. I take the turn onto Main Street, the car's tires crunching over the well-worn pavement. Memories come flooding back, unbidden.
Afternoons spent lounging on the town square with Leo, our laughter carrying on the warm summer breeze and evenings whiled away at the local diner, swapping stories and dreams over plates of greasy fries and thick milkshakes.
A bittersweet pang tugs at my heart as I pass by the old haunts of my youth. So much has changed since those carefree days, the innocence of our childhood worn away by the harsh realities of life. I think of Leo, his face etched with worry and grief, and my chest tightens with a familiar ache of guilt.
No more, I vow, my knuckles whitening as I grip the steering wheel tighter. No more pain, no more regrets. I'm going to make things right for all of us.
It’s a busy day in town, busy as one can expect in Shadow’s Bend. I get out of the car and stride into the flower shop across the road from me. There’s a weathered woman attending to plants in a corner, and the air in the room is cloying with sweet scents and fragrances.
The shop owner turns to me, smiling and adjusting the horn-rimmed spectacles sitting on her nose. “Hello, there. What can I do for you?”
I look around the shop, taking in the various colors and variety of flowers. “I’d like to get a bouquet for someone.”
She chuckles. “A special choice for a special lady. What’s the occasion?”
“No occasion,” I reply, scratching the back of my neck. “I’ve been away for a while, and… well, she’s pregnant with my child, and I’d love to propose to her.”
The shop owner claps and hurries forward. “That’s so sweet! Come here.” She grabs my hand and tows me to a corner of her busy room.
She picks out several flowers and binds them with a ribbon. She hands the massive bouquet to me, beaming. “I’m sorry about all the colors, but sometimes, a little color goes a long way.” She squints at me. “Why, you look more nervous than a chicken crossing a highway.”
That obvious? I sigh. “It’s just… It’s been so long. I don’t know what to expect. What if—”
“You do your best to cut that out, young man,” the shop owner scolds. “You’re going to go through with this. Whatever mistakes you made, just know that all you need is a willingness to do better. So, cheer up, and go propose to that lovely lady.”
“Will do, ma’am,” I say with a tired smile, pulling my wallet out of my back pocket. “How much for the bouquet?”
“For this?” she replies, patting my arm. “The only payment I want is a wedding invitation from you. Deal?”
I chuckle in disbelief. “Looks like you got yourself a deal.” I thank her and leave the flower shop, feeling lighter than I did when I first went in.
The jeweler’s shop is nestled in the heart of town, between a bakery and a bookstore. The store owner is not as chatty as the florist, but he loves to talk about his pieces.
“I have just the ring for you,” he says when I tell him what I want. He opens a safe in the corner and pulls out a sparkling piece sitting on a plush velvet bed.
The ring, an exquisite creation of brilliant diamond set in a band of lustrous gold, gleams with a timeless elegance. Each facet of the diamond catches the light, scattering it into a thousand tiny rainbows, while the gold band, smooth and warm, adds a touch of rustic charm.
This is no ordinary ring — it bears the mark of a master craftsman, its delicate design and sparkling centerpiece a testament to the personalized care that only a local artisan can provide.
“It’s beautiful,” I breathe. Not only is it a lovely piece of jewelry, but I did not expect to find anything that nice in Shadow’s Bend. This will do.
With the ring in my breast pocket and the bouquet in my hand, I return to the car. I’m still nervous, but it’s the good kind. I can’t wait to see Colette.
The turn signal clicks rhythmically as I maneuver onto the road that will take me to Colette’s country home. My heart thrums with a heady mix of excitement and trepidation, the weight of this moment pressing down on me like a physical force.
I'm so close, closer than I've been in what feels like a lifetime. Yet, a part of me can't help but wonder if I'm ready to face the enormity of what lies ahead. Am I worthy of the trust Colette has placed in me? Can I be the man, the father, that our child deserves?
The doubts swirl like storm clouds. I push them aside, focusing instead on the memories that have sustained me through my journey — the image of Colette's radiant smile, the sound of her laughter, moments tangled up with her under the sheets.
The short driveway stretches out before me, flanked by rows of trimmed hedges and bursts of vibrant foliage. My house, standing beside it, pales in comparison. While neat and well kept, it still has all the markings of an abandoned, haunted house.
As I approach the main gates, a flurry of movement catches my eye. A small group of people clusters near the entrance, their expressions a mix of concern and urgency.
My heart leaps into my throat as I search the sea of faces for someone I know. There are more staff on the property than the last time I was here, and they all have the same anxious expressions, an air of contained panic.
Something's wrong .
The realization steals the breath from my lungs. I throw the car into park, remembering to engage the brake before I'm flinging open the door and hurrying towards the front of the house.
“Excuse me!” I yell at the man nearest to me, my voice strained with fear. “What’s going on?”
The balding man whips around, his eyes wide with surprise and recognition. Ducking his head, he says, “Master Amato. Thank God, you’re here.”
A thousand scenarios race through my mind, each more terrifying than the last. I open my mouth to speak, but the words catch in my throat, held back by the icy tendrils of dread that have coiled around my heart.
“What’s happening?” I finally croak out.
"It's Ms. Colette," he says, his voice laced with urgency. "She's gone into labor."
The world seems to tilt on its axis; the ground shifting beneath my feet. Labor . Of course, the thought should have been at the forefront of my mind, but in my single-minded focus on reuniting with Colette, I had pushed aside the reality of her impending due date.
"Where is she?" I demand, my voice thick with fear, excitement, disbelief. "I need to be with her."
"They've already taken her to the hospital," he says. "I just returned here to pick up a few things. I’m headed back there now, sir. I could take you there if you don’t mind."
I nod, jogging back towards the rental parked on the road. The old manservant is in the passenger seat before I peel away from the curb, leaving the pungent smell of burning tires and exhaust fumes in my wake.
My mind races, a whirlwind of thoughts and emotions swirling in a dizzying vortex. This is it, the moment I've been both expecting and dreading for months.
The ride to the hospital is a blur, the scenery outside the tinted windows reduced to little more than a smear of colors and shapes. The man beside me attempts to fill the silence with reassuring words, but his voice is little more than a distant murmur, drowned out by the pounding of my heart.
We pull up to the hospital's entrance, and I barrel through the automatic doors, my eyes scanning the sterile lobby for any sign, any sign of where Colette might be. A nurse at the front desk regards me with a mix of surprise and concern, her brows knitting together as I approach.
"Can I help you, sir?" she asks, her tone polite but guarded.
"I’m looking for someone," I say. "Someone brought her in not too long ago. She's in labor. I need to be with her."
She nods. “Sure thing. She types a few keystrokes, her fingers flying over the keyboard in front of her. “What’s her name?”
"Colette," I reply, the name feeling like a prayer on my lips. "Colette Moreau."
“Are you family?” she asks, her eyes still on the screen.
I glance at the manservant beside me, then back to the nurse, blinking. “I… No. I’m not family, but we are…close. I need to be with her, please.”
The nurse's expression softens, but she shakes her head. “I know her, and she’s fine, sir. Unfortunately, only the family can see her right now. Doctor’s orders.”
I think about Colette, preparing to have our baby, all alone. She’s the mother of my child. Doesn’t that make me more family than anyone else?
“Antonio! Thank God you made it just in time.”
I turn towards the familiar voice and the sound of urgently approaching footsteps. Henry is hurrying towards me with an anxious look on his face.
“Is everything alright? How’s Colette?” The forgotten knot in my stomach reminds me of its presence with a tight, painful squeeze.
“She’s fine,” he replies, giving me a hug. Turning to the nurse, he says, “It’s alright, he’s family.”
“Can I see her?” I ask impatiently, looking past Henry towards the hallway he just burst out from.
“Sure thing. She’s been admitted to the maternity ward, room 314, on the third floor. Right this way,” Henry says, pivoting on his heel and striding towards the hallway. I fall into step beside Henry, his presence both steadying and refreshing.
The elevator ride seems to crawl up to the third floor. Finally, the doors slide open with a soft chime, revealing a bustling corridor lined with doors and the occasional cluster of chairs.
Room 314 . I count the numbers as we move down the hallway, my heart pounding harder with each step. At last, we reach the designated door, and I pause, grabbing Henry by the arm, startling him.
A sudden surge of doubt sweeps over me. What if I'm not ready for this? What if I fail, as a husband, as a father? My past mistakes are reminding me of how much I have fucked up.
But then, I hear it — a soft, pained groan, Colette's voice. In that moment, everything else falls away, the doubts and fears scattered like leaves in the wind. All that matters is the woman on the other side of that door — the woman I love, the mother of my child, my single purpose. Henry grips my shoulder and nods at me in silent encouragement.
Drawing a fortifying breath, I turn the knob and push the door open.