41
GAbrIELA DUARTE
I wasn’t alone.
Cris stood beside me; my mother was waiting at our accommodation. Yet for a few seconds, I couldn’t remember anything but the last time I’d seen Luca.
“What are you doing here?”
I kept my voice low but couldn’t hide the panic.
“This institute belongs to the foundation.”
I looked at his photograph at the wing’s entrance, and my stomach dropped. I’d chosen this team. I hadn’t imagined I’d have to get past Luca to reach it.
“The institute doesn’t belong to you. And my daughter certainly doesn’t.”
My daughter. Not ours. He took in every syllable without looking away.
“How old are they?”
My whole body went cold.
“We’re finishing the appointment first.”
Cris came closer. He didn’t touch me, but took his place beside me with the ease of someone who’d done it many times.
“Luca, this isn’t the time.”
Hostility crossed Luca’s face and vanished almost at once. His gaze dropped to the three backpacks Cris carried, the pink hair clip caught on his coat sleeve, the yellow blanket folded beneath his arm.
I knew that tightening of Luca’s jaw. Cris adjusted the blanket without moving away from me.
“I need to speak to Gabriela.”
“She just said no,” Cris replied.
The door opened before Luca could answer. The nurse looked from one to the other, sensing the tension.
“Is everything all right?”
“Yes,” I said. “He isn’t coming into the room without my permission.”
She nodded. Luca stepped back to leave the way clear.
“Mommy?” Camila called.
I turned at once. All the stiffness left my face.
“I’m here, sweetheart.”
The examination was over. The nurse helped her down from the table.
Small and paler than her brothers, she wore a yellow dress beneath her coat.
She ran only two steps before slowing. I knelt and took her in my arms. She wrapped hers around my neck.
Over her shoulder, I saw Luca stop breathing.
Heitor came out behind her and nearly collided with him. He stepped back and studied him openly.
“You’re the man on the wall.”
The whole corridor seemed to fall silent.
“Heitor,” I warned.
“He is.” He pointed to the plaque with Luca’s photograph at the wing entrance. “Only you look grumpier there.”
Noah came out last. He stopped beside me and took my free hand.
“He was watching us,” he said suspiciously.
Luca crouched slowly. Noah’s and Heitor’s gray eyes were impossible to ignore. Camila, tucked against me, had my brown eyes, but a Bellandi dimple in her chin and Sofia’s hands.
Now he could look at the children he’d chosen to call a fraud.
“Hi,” he managed.
Heitor smiled.
“Hi. Do you own the hospital?”
Luca took a moment.
“No. I helped build part of it.”
“Then do you know how to fix hearts?”
His eyes went to Camila.
“I know people who do.”
“Her heart needs fixing again,” Heitor explained. “Mommy brought all the papers.”
I closed my eyes for a moment.
“You came with her?”
“We always come,” Noah declared.
“They both came today,” I confirmed, unable to look away from Luca.
Heitor considered this.
“The dinosaur too,” he said, showing the toy.
Luca looked at the little animal in his hand.
“I see.”
“He waits with us. He can’t go into the tests.”
“Heitor, that’s enough,” Cris said, coming over with the backpacks.
I gripped Noah’s hand harder than I’d meant to. He looked at my fingers, and I loosened them. He tugged his brother’s arm.
“Come on, Heitor. Mommy called.”
Luca stood. Dr. Isabel came over with the preliminary results and led me into a private room. Cris took the children to the play area. Before going in, I looked back. Luca was speaking to the staff member who’d accompanied him, but looked at me again. He didn’t try to follow.
In the room, the doctor showed me the results and explained the catheterization plan. The team would confirm the anatomy and, if conditions were favorable, treat the narrowing during the same procedure. Camila was stable, but it wasn’t advisable to delay intervention.
“Is she in immediate danger?” I asked.
“At the moment, the results allow us to schedule the procedure. We’ll monitor her until then. If she faints, turns blue, or has trouble breathing, seek emergency care. Don’t wait for the next appointment.”
I wrote down every instruction. I asked for names, success rates, complications, alternatives. My hand shook, but not because of Luca. Not then. The fear of losing Camila was greater than any ghost in the hallway.
When I came out, I held the folder against my chest. Luca stood alone by the window. He took one step toward me and stopped.
“Is Camila stable?” he asked.
“Yes. I don’t want to discuss the details here. And I don’t want you calling directors or trying to change her team.”
“I won’t interfere.
“If you need anything . . .” He stopped, searching my eyes.
I laughed without humor.
“Money?”
The question brought back the check, the torn paper, the rain.
“Anything she needs.”
“Five years ago, I needed you to hear one sentence all the way through.”
“I know.”
“I was bleeding in a hospital when I sent word that there were three. Cris came from Lisbon the next day. My messages were being sent to Legal before I was even discharged.”
The corridor seemed to tilt beneath him.
“Sofia told me you’d been in the hospital,” he said. “I didn’t know how it had happened.”
“It was after I left the Palazzo. Paola met me at the hospital.”
“I could have asked you.”
“You could have. I left contact details, a lawyer, documents. You didn’t want to know more.”
He didn’t answer.
I moved close enough that only he could hear.
“You will not use my daughter’s illness as a way into our lives.”
He opened his mouth but said nothing. I looked at his hand, clenched so tightly his knuckles had gone white.
I moved away, called the children, and began getting us ready to leave. Heitor waved to Luca. Camila gave him a shy smile. Noah did neither.
“Mommy,” Noah said, noticing Luca watching us. “Does he know us?”
I stopped zipping the backpack. I didn’t want to hide the truth, but I needed more time than that corridor gave us.
“He met you today.”
“But he knows you?” Heitor asked.
“He knew me a long time ago.”
Camila rested her head on Cris’s shoulder.
“Did he make you sad?”
I looked at Luca. Every defense had left his face.
“Yes,” I said. “But that conversation needs time, and right now we’re going to take care of your heart.”
He watched three small heads pass him at waist height. He didn’t try to touch any of them.
“Gabriela,” he called as we neared the elevator.
I turned only my head.
“I want a paternity test.”
“I wanted one five years ago.”
“I know.
“Will you agree now?”
“My lawyer will respond. Don’t follow us, Luca. Don’t have anyone investigate our home, their school, or their routine.”
“I won’t follow you.”
“I’ve heard your promises before.”
The elevator opened. I stepped in with my children and Cris. Luca stayed in the hall. Before the doors closed, Heitor waved again. Noah pulled his hand down. Camila held her yellow blanket and watched Luca as though trying to recognize someone from a story she’d never been told.
My first impulse was to press the button to close the doors faster. Instead, I kept my breathing steady and let my children look. I wouldn’t turn fear into secrecy. When the doors finally separated us, Noah looked up at me.
“Is he our dad?”
The elevator began to descend. Cris stayed silent. I looked down at Noah and held his hand.
“Yes, sweetheart. He’s the man I told you about.”
Heitor’s mouth fell open. Camila gripped the blanket. Noah stared at the closed doors.
“Didn’t he know?” Camila asked.
“I told him. He didn’t believe me.”
“Why?”
The doors opened on the ground floor before I could answer.
“We’ll talk at home. I’ll explain.”
We left the elevator. I could feel Luca’s gaze through all the floors between us. For five years, an ocean had been enough to keep the past away.
He knew their names. He’d heard Camila speak and crouched to look at the boys. What I didn’t know was how long it would take him to try to find us again.