4. Vinnie
Six hours. It took me six hours to fly here. Over nine, if you count the rest of the travel time on either end of the flight.
Yet it takes less than six minutes to get shot down by an irritated nurse, telling me I have to wait until morning to see the love of my life.
I’m exhausted and hungry. My feet ache in my ballet flats, and I’m feeling too warm in my peacoat for the California weather, but can’t find it in me to take it off. My patience level drops to the point where I want to reach over the nurse’s station and shake the woman, but I know I can’t do that. I can feel myself about to snap at her, even though she’s just doing her job.
Visiting hours have ended, I understand that, but what she doesn’t understand is that I don’t care. I refuse to wait until morning to see Sly.
The need to touch him and hear his voice, to know he’s okay, overpowers my instinct to remain polite.
I’ve been worried sick for hours, my heart lodged in my throat, suffocating me as I choked back tears the entire flight here.
The look on the nurse’s face can only be described as pity—but I don’t want her pity. I want her to let me see him.
Exasperated, I throw my hands into the air. “If you won’t tell me where he is, I’ll find him myself.”
Every hospital room has a small window, and I’ll look through every single one if necessary.
“Miss, you can’t,” the nurse pleads as I begin walking to the first door, but she doesn’t make a move to stop me, and I ignore her warnings.
Glancing through the first room, I see an elderly woman asleep in her bed. Quickly, I make my way across the hall, only to find another woman asleep.
The next window I peer through, I’m a little startled to find a woman sitting upright on a cot, watching me. I’m about to turn to head to the next door when my eyes sweep over to the hospital bed and collide with the stunning shade of hazel I’ve been praying to see. Even though his room is dark, the lights from the hallway illuminate his features perfectly, and my heart flip-flops at the sight of him.
“Sly!” I cry as I throw open the door and rush inside his room.
“Vinnie?”
I don’t slow, or think of anything other than feeling his skin against mine as I crash into him.
Instantly, his hand tangles in my mess of wavy curls as he pulls me closer.
“Vinnie,” he breathes against my hair, nuzzling his face against my cheek. “What are you doing here, amore mio?”
Pulling back, his hands encircle my face, brushing the hair away as he looks deep into my eyes.
Tears spike my vision. I’m so overwhelmed right now, I can’t even distinguish which emotions I’m feeling. I can’t stop the tears from flowing over the edge of my lashes, and he wipes them away with his thumbs.
“You honestly think I wouldn’t hear about you being in the hospital, Sly? As soon as I heard, I got on a plane.”
His eyes search mine, and a look I don’t recognize flashes across his face. “Vincenza, your family. Do they know you’ve come?”
Pulling out of his grasp, I settle on the edge of his bed. Sly shifts his lower body slightly, giving me more room, but I don’t need it.
Resting my hand on his chest, I shake my head softly. “If they haven’t figured it out already, it won’t take long now.”
His eyes drop to my hand, and I know he’s looking at the diamond I forgot to remove from my finger before I left. It makes my stomach roll, knowing that he thinks I chose August.
Assuming that is what he thinks. I can’t be sure since we haven’t spoken, but I am well aware of what it looks like.
An intense need to begin explaining myself and begging for his forgiveness overpowers my thoughts, but I push them aside.
Everything I’m doing is to keep him safe.
“Do you know the risk you’ve taken to be here?” he asks, reaching to pull me toward him again.
He has no idea of the actual risk I’ve taken. And I know the consequences.
Resting my head on his chest, more tears escape. “You’ve always been worth any risk, Sly.”
It’s the truth, and I should have been more forthcoming with that truth before it was too late.
He hugs me tighter, his mouth coming to rest against my head as he presses his lips to me in a long kiss. Neither of us makes any move to part, but a few moments later, the soft click of the door closing catches my attention.
Opening my eyes, I see that the man and woman who were in the room are now gone.
“Who were they?” I ask softly, wondering about the people he has obviously grown close to since he’s been living here.
They looked like they were a couple, but there was also a look of something more in the eyes of the woman as she watched me come into the room.
I recognized her look. It was a look of possession. Of protectiveness. I can’t help but wonder if she cares for Sly in the way that I do.
A deep sigh elevates his chest. “There are many things we must discuss, piccola ladra. But first, it is important to me to know why you are here.”
I rear back and look at him, feeling as though he’s slapped me. So many thoughts collide in my mind—has he been with her? Moved on? Does he hate me?
Closing my eyes, I remind myself he thinks I didn’t show up that day. He thinks I didn’t care about him—that I don’t care about him. He has no idea what’s been going on.
But the words escape me, and the best I can manage is, “I couldn’t not be here, Sly. You were shot.”
With a clipped tone, he says, “How did you even hear about it?”
I’ve never felt more distant from him than I do now. Even through the time we’ve been apart, I’ve held onto the glimmer of hope that one day, things could be different.
Although, the way he’s guarding himself right now makes me think maybe that ship has sailed.
“The housekeepers talk.” My voice cracks, barely above a whisper, as my eyes fill with tears once again. “Of course I’d be here.”
Looking down at my hands, I gently pick at my cuticles as I wait for him to say something. I’m not able to look him in the eye, suddenly feeling like he is about to reject me being here.
He’d have every right to after thinking for so long that I don’t love him.
What am I supposed to say? How do I tell him that the reason I’ve stayed away is because of the threat August holds over his head?
So I say the only thing I can say. The one thing I hope he’ll believe when he looks into my eyes and hopefully sees the truth. “I don’t love him, Sly.”
His eyes darken with my words, his hand curling into a fist on his lap. The movement makes me flinch. Thoughts of August flicker in my mind—of him using his fists on me, but only in places that are easily hidden.
Sly sees my reaction and narrows his eyes, brows furrowing in confusion as he lets his hands go slack.
I shouldn’t have reacted. If anyone can see through my mask of perfection, it’s Sly.
“Then why is his ring on your finger?”
“It’s complicated, Sly. My family?—”
“You are a grown woman, piccola ladra. Free to make your own choices. Your family does not own you.”
No, but August does.
“I know,” I whisper.
“Then tell me what holds you back. You are the last person I expected to walk through that hospital door, yet here you are. When you did not show up at the park that day, it broke my heart. Yet, you show up here, months later, just to ensure I am alive. Explain it to me, Vincenza, because I feel there is a part of the story I’m missing.”
Standing, I walk to the window. Sly’s room overlooks the hospital’s parking lot, which is quiet for this hour. We’re both silent as I stare ahead, focused on one of the lights.
I’m caught between the truth and a lie. So desperately, I long to tell him the truth, but with the truth comes the danger and, no doubt, the retaliation he’d want to act upon. With the lie comes further heartbreak when I walk away.
This could very well be the end of us.
The decision is made in my mind before I truly realize it is. I have to continue to lie, as much as it breaks my heart to do so.
They say the truth will set you free, but this truth will only threaten to break our wings. I cannot let the man I love seek retribution for my actions, which I know Sly would gladly take.
My heart is heavy, slowly sinking to the pit of my stomach as my eyes fill up with tears again. When I found out Sly was in the hospital, I didn’t stop to think. I just reacted and did what I could to get here. I hadn’t thought about this conversation, or the way it would make either of us feel. I acted purely on emotion, and now I fear I might have made a mistake in coming here.
Trembling, I close my eyes and will myself to make the most of the time I’m here for, knowing it may be the last time I see him. My fingers reach up to my neck, and play with the necklace I’m wearing.
A locket.
One I purchased right after Sly left. I had the jeweler engrave a simple S on the back of the gold heart-shape. The locket hangs around my neck, pictureless.
Empty.
It feels symbolic of how I feel, somehow.
I hardly recognize my own voice when the lie slips from my lips and a lone tear falls over the rim of my lashes. “There’s nothing to explain. Sometimes things just don’t work out like we hope.”
And just like that, I feel the glimmer of hope completely extinguish.