Chapter 23
Mia
The driver gets out of the car behind me, and I’m glad to see it is a woman. I thought for second Eric may have gotten loose and come after me. I should have known better, there’s no way he can get out of my restraints by himself. When I get out of the car to join her, I’m struck with another contraction. This one is so intense, my knees buckle, and I have to lean on the car to hold myself up.
The elderly woman states the obvious. “Oh dear, are you in labour? You need to get to the hospital.”
“Yes, can you tell me the way?” I ask through breathing exercises.
“I can do better than that. I’ll take you. But we will have to use your car. I’ve got a flat tire.”
“That’s fine. Please just get me there.” I think I’m starting to get the urge to push. This baby is going to be here very soon.
“You get in the car. I just need to get Mr. Pickles.” The lady opens her passenger door and retrieves a small pug.
I love dogs. The images of dogs flash through my mind, making me smile.
It’s only a short ride to the hospital from here, thank goodness.
After thanking the lady for her generosity, I’m wheeled into the maternity unit by a nurse who was thankfully at the door when I arrived.
“It looks like you got here just in time,” the midwife informs me during my examination. “Now, baby is a little early, so we have got everything ready just in case they need a little help. But don’t worry, at thirty-six weeks, babies are pretty much cooked.” She laughs at her own joke.
A noise sounds on the monitor I’m now attached to just as another contraction begins.
“Looks like you’re ready to push. Come on, Arianna, you can do this.”
I listen to my body and push when I feel the urge. I take in everything the midwife says and focus completely on bringing my baby safely into the world. The more I focus on my child, the more of myself comes back to me. When I think of taking my child home, I see my house. My old Italian farmhouse. My home, the home I renovated myself. With each push, I receive more of myself, of my life, my real life.
“Just one more, Arianna. You are doing fantastically,” says my midwife encouragingly.
Finding the last of my strength, I give birth to my child.
“It’s a girl. Congratulations, Mummy, you have a beautiful daughter.”
The midwife places my baby on my chest. Our eyes lock, and she gives me the last bit of myself. “Marco.”
I cry with happiness into my daughter. She is the image of him. His eyes, his nose. She’s beautiful. I can’t believe we created this amazing human. My heart aches for Marco. He must think I am dead or I am sure he would have come for me. As I stare into the eyes of my daughter, I’m filled with gratitude. After all the months of not knowing who I am , she found me. Marco is going to have the shock of his life. This whole situation is mind blowing. I know there are going to be hard times ahead. But with my daughter in my world, I can face anything. My name is Mia Alboni, and I am a woman of the Guerra Mafia.
“She is beautiful, just like her mummy,” the midwife coos at my side.
“Oh, that’s all her father. She is just like him.” I smile.
“Have you thought of any name yet?” she asks.
“I haven’t decided. I’d like to speak to her father before I make that decision.”
“Oh, good—I thought that when you said Marco when she was born, you were naming her that. Marco’s a nice name for a boy, but not a pretty girl like her,” the midwife admits.
“Don’t worry, that’s not her name. It’s’ her father’s name. Her father is Marco Guerra.”
As the words leave my mouth, the door to the room opens with a creak. My heart floods with emotion when I see who stands in the doorway.