Chapter 21
Hanna
Everything happened so fast that I had no time to think. We ran to the car. Buckled our seat belts as we were already driving. We raced as if we were the ambulance itself even though my mother's voice inside me had warned me not to.
Yet we were too late.
When we arrived at the estate, all we could see was the paramedics closing the doors of the ambulance. I could only catch a brief glimpse of Camilla, clutching her stomach and groaning. Her pain-stricken face was covered in sweat.
Vico and I just looked at each other. And we both knew what we would do next.
Now we sit in the neon light of the hospital corridor and wait. It feels like an eternity has passed since Pietro rushed past us toward the operating area. But the loudly ticking clock on the opposite wall tells us that it has not been ten minutes. Only he is allowed to be present during the emergency C-section. Vico and I are condemned to wait. We don't talk much, probably too busy hoping that Camilla and the babies will be well.
I lean back in the plastic chair and massage my neck. Vico types on his phone.
"Alessia is coming tomorrow, and Aurora is trying to get time off. She couldn't confirm if it would work out, but she's doing everything to be here soon," he says, tucking his phone back into his pocket and rubbing his hands on his jeans. His fingers tremble, and his breathing is strained.
I smile encouragingly at him. "Camilla is strong. She can do this."
"Vico Olivetta?"
We both look in the direction of the female voice. A young doctor with her hair tightly tied up in a bun and pearl earrings stands before us. The double doors leading to the operating area close behind her. Her expression reveals no emotion.
Vico immediately rushes toward her. "How is my sister?"
She takes a pen from the breast pocket of her blue surgical gown and taps it on the medical file in her hand. "Due to the premature placental abruption, she lost a lot of blood. Her condition was critical, and the babies were also undernourished for a while."
My God! I cover my mouth with my hands.
"We were able to deliver the babies in time and address the bleeding," the doctor says, looking meaningfully between the two of us. "It was a last-minute rescue."
Vico responds with a deep sigh of relief. And I also feel like I can finally breathe again.
"Thank you, Doctor," I say, as Vico seems unable to react. "Can we see her?"
"Not yet. She needs rest now," she replies firmly, tucking the medical file under her arm. "But the babies are healthy and lively." A warm smile appears on her previously serious face. "Would you like to see them?"
"Absolutely!" I say eagerly, picking up my handbag from the waiting chair and following her. I can't wait to see the little ones, smell their scent, and hear their first sounds. My cheeks glow with excitement.
Vico stays behind, as if he needs to consider whether he really wants to come along.
In my overflow of emotions, I rush to him, hook my arm under his, and pull him with me down the hallway. "Don't tell me you don't want to see your nieces. Babies are something special."
He mumbles vaguely, and there's no time for more because we've already reached the hospital room. The doctor opens the door and signals us to enter.
On tiptoes, I sneak into the room. My eyes immediately fall on the two small cribs with the pink blankets. Between them, Pietro sits on a chair in his sweat-soaked shirt, holding both babies in his arms.
"Allow me to introduce them. Meet Stella and Francesca," he says proudly.
"Congratulations!" I step closer and squat in front of Pietro. He nods at me kindly, and in his brown eyes, I see exhaustion but also sheer bliss.
I look at the babies. Their tiny faces are wrinkled. One of the girls has dark fuzz peeking out from under her cap. Contentedly, she snuggles against Pietro's chest and makes a smacking sound. The other has a star-shaped birthmark on her chin. She yawns widely and clumsily forms a fist.
"They’re beautiful," I say, deeply moved. I have never seen anything as adorable as these two. I blink back tears and look at Vico. "Aren't they?"
He only takes a hesitant step forward. It's as if he's afraid of two innocent newborns.
"Do you want to hold them?" Pietro asks softly.
"Oh, really? Can we?" I can hardly believe that he's giving us the chance. I quickly sanitize my hands and pull two chairs for Vico and me.
Pietro laughs. "Of course. I really need to disappear for a while." He hands me the little one with the funny hair and then gently places the other girl in Vico's arms. He accepts her hesitantly, swallowing hard. "Take good care of them. I don't want the ladies to complain," he says with a raised finger before leaving the room.
Now we're alone again. And although we were alone in the hallway before, something feels different now.
The worries about Camilla and the babies no longer dominate my thoughts, and instead, what was on my mind before the emergency returns.
Since Vico touched my hand, more than half an hour has passed. Yet I still feel his touch unchanged on my skin. A gentle tingling remains, and my intuition tells me that it won't disappear quickly. Just the memory of it brings a blush to my face.
How could I let myself go like that?
And feel so incredibly comfortable doing it?
I sneak a glance at Vico, but he seems so captivated by his niece that he wouldn't even notice an earthquake. With a blissful grin, he holds out his little finger, which she immediately grabs with her tiny fingers. They look unbelievably adorable together.
"Hello, cutie," he babbles repeatedly. There is so much love in Vico's expression.
I shouldn't be looking. I shouldn't feel like I'm carrying sparklers inside me. And I definitely shouldn't think about whether Vico would be a great father. With great effort, I manage to lower my eyes. As soon as he's out of my sight, my stomach knots up despite the adorable baby in my arms.
How can I sit here and stare at Vico while Florian is at home missing me?
What kind of partner am I, cuddling up to another man's chest among vineyards at sunrise and telling him about the daydreams I hide from Florian?
This is wrong in so many ways that it can never be right. Yet I find myself staring at him again.