52. Lucia
52
LUCIA
“W hat happened?” I whisper through nerveless lips.
“Antonio collapsed,” Dante replies soberly. “A bone chip from his shoulder blocked a blood vessel. He’s in surgery right now, but it’s. . .” He takes a deep breath. “His vitals aren’t stable. The doctors aren’t optimistic.”
I stare at them in shock, my brain refusing to process those words. It can’t be. He was fine when I left. Standing on his feet, ordering his bodyguards to stop fussing. Just a few hours ago, I was in the middle of a fairy tale, and now I’m in a nightmare that I can’t wake up from.
How can everything have changed so quickly?
“It’s serious, Lucia,” Valentina says gently.
My brain finally starts working again. “Which hospital?” I demand. “What are we waiting for? Let’s go.”
“Not yet.” Dante puts his body between me and the door. He glances at Valentina, and something in her expression makes him continue. “I need to know what your intentions are.”
“What?”
“Antonio is more than my padrino,” he replies. “He’s my friend. My family. And you don’t stick around. When the going gets tough, you run away. Right now, you’re interviewing for a job in Florence.”
I gape at him, then glance at Valentina in shock. Dante interprets my expression correctly. She didn’t tell me,” he says. “You had your email open on your laptop screen a few days ago.”
He’s not done. “But it’s not just Florence. After your parents died, you didn’t talk to Valentina for two years. If you had. . .” His voice trails off.
Guilt lacerates my insides, the same guilt I’m seeing on Dante’s face. Had I kept in touch with Valentina, I would have recognized the signs of an abusive relationship. I could have helped. I don’t know how, but I would have done something.
“I missed everything.” I don’t address my reply to Dante. I appreciate his concern, but he’s not my best friend. Valentina is, and it’s to her that I need to say these words. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t there when you needed me. But I promise you things will change. I promise you?—”
“They already have.” Valentina’s eyes are suspiciously bright. “The fault isn’t yours alone. I could have called you, too. But I was ashamed of the situation I was in, so ashamed that I hid the truth from everyone.” She draws in a deep breath. “But that’s not important now. What’s important is Antonio.”
Antonio.
Who is in a hospital, fighting for his life.
Who could be dying while we stand here and bicker.
“He’s your friend, and you care for him.” I face Dante squarely. “You deserve to know that I’m not running away. I’m not going to leave.” I take another step forward. “But the man I love is in surgery right now, and you’re preventing me from being at his side.” My voice turns hard, and what he sees in my face makes him move. “So, tell me what hospital he’s in, and get the hell out of my way.”