Chapter 41
The sun caressed my face like the softest feather, a sensation I had never experienced before. I wore a delicate sky-blue dress with thin straps, while my hair danced in the gentle summer breeze. The grass was cool and damp beneath my bare feet, a refreshing contrast to the surrounding warmth.
I sat comfortably in a foldable chair beside a charming two-story white house, surrounded by an endless field adorned with vibrant flowers. The wind whispered through the air, composing a melody that filled the space with serene harmony.
I inhaled deeply, relishing the sweet fragrance of sunflowers, lavender, dahlias, petunias, and a medley of blooms that enveloped me. Overwhelmed by the beauty, I closed my eyes for a moment, savoring a profound sense of tranquility I had never known before.
Turning my head to the left, I noticed Zane sitting beside me, clad in a white short-sleeved shirt left unbuttoned, his eyes shut and head tilted back as if soaking in the sun. His skin glistened, and his freckles danced in the sunlight. I took a moment to appreciate his peace.
I reached for his hand, and he opened his eyes, gazing at me with a depth of love that warmed my heart. A smile spread across his face, revealing his adorable dimple.
“Zane, I love you!” I exclaimed, unable to contain the emotion any longer. He smiled back and kissed my hand gently.
“I know, I love you too.” His attention shifted to something in front of us—a girl with curly red hair, laughing as she dashed toward us, followed closely by a boy with similarly vibrant hair.
They were around four or five years old, playfully chasing one another.
I watched them with fierce intensity, feeling an overwhelming love I had never felt before.
“Where are we?” I asked Zane, my gaze still fixed on the children, their laughter echoing in my heart.
“In our little paradise,” he replied, his hand finding its way to my stomach. Suddenly, it hit me—I was pregnant.
“Yes, another boy. Another little capoeirista,” Zane chuckled.
“What?” I inquired, curiosity piqued.
“Of course, I'll teach them capoeira. All three of them!
They'll grow up to be as beautiful as you and as smart as me.
They'll learn all the fascinating stories, travel the world, chase their dreams, fall in love, and find their own happy places.” As Zane painted this picture of our future, I watched him intently, captivated by his hopes and dreams. “Isn't it a beautiful dream? I could stay here forever with you,” he added, and I remained silent, lost in thought.
“Luna, you must promise me one thing: live an extraordinary life, filled with love and joy.
Cherish every moment because they're all worth it. Never give up!” My eyes brimmed with tears at his heartfelt words.
“Zane, what is this place? Where are we? Am I dreaming?” I asked, looking around in wonder.
“Luna, please promise me. Don't let anyone hurt you; no one deserves the pain you've faced. Life will throw challenges your way, not because you're weak, but because you're strong enough to overcome them. And you are strong, even if you don't see it yet.”
“Zane…” I said, gripping his hand tightly. “Zane… Zane…”
I was swallowed by the darkness, a relentless agony coursed through every inch of my body. I felt as if I were suspended in a void, spinning aimlessly. Longing to return to the place from which I had been torn, I found myself lost and unsure of how to get back.
Time seemed to stretch indefinitely; it felt like I had been trapped in this limbo for ages. There was no escape, no solid ground beneath me, no glimmer of light, and no sounds to break the suffocating silence. All I could do was wait.
Then, in the middle of nothing, I began to hear something—a cacophony of voices, people shouting, and cries of distress. A sharp pain throbbed in my head. I wanted to cry out, to speak, but my voice was silenced. My eyes refused to obey me, remaining shut tight.
The pain in my chest was the worst, a searing heat radiating from within, followed by a similar burning sensation in my left leg and right shoulder. My desperation to open my eyes grew, but still, they remained sealed. Then, once more, I was plunged back into darkness.
Light. I could see it, bright and blinding.
I forced my eyelids open, wincing at the intensity that scorched my eyes.
I blinked repeatedly, trying to acclimate.
Where was Zane? I attempted to turn my head, but it wouldn't budge.
There was pain, but it felt muted, as if it were shrouded in a haze, and somehow I felt at ease.
Finally, my eyes adjusted. The ceiling above me was a stark white, marred by a brownish stain in one corner that caught my gaze. My focus shifted downward; something rested on my nose.
I noticed needles protruding from both arms—the IVs were a stark reminder of my situation. Bloodstains marred the sheets beneath me. I could wiggle my legs, though the right one felt heavy and was wrapped in gauze.
Something constricted my chest, almost like a belt. My left arm, too, was bandaged, but my face felt untouched.
I scanned the small hospital room, reminiscent of the one my mother had occupied. I spotted her slumped in a chair to my right, asleep. I longed to call out, but my voice eluded me.
Suddenly, a nurse entered, jolting my mother awake. She gasped, rushing to my side, her hands trembling as they brushed my cheek.
“Elio!” she cried out, her voice piercing my ears. She stepped outside, calling for him again before returning. The nurse took my vitals and then left.
My father walked in, looking at least five years older than I remembered, desperation etched across his face. My throat was parched, my lips cracked and dry. I tried to voice my need for water, but nothing came out.
I turned my head to the right and spotted a paper cup with a straw. My mother understood and brought it to my lips, but as I attempted to swallow, the liquid burned, making it unbearable.
“Za… Z… Zane…” I managed to whisper. My mother glanced at my father.
“He's here, sweetheart; he's alive,” my dad reassured me. Tears welled in my eyes, the ache in my body intensifying.
“Everything will be alright; you're going to be okay,” my mother whispered, gently stroking my hair. Overwhelmed, I surrendered to sleep.
When I awoke, the room was shrouded in darkness, and my father occupied the chair instead of my mother. He sprang to my side.
“How do you feel, sweetheart?” he asked, concern etched in his features.
“I'm not sure. It hurts,” I replied, my voice raspy.
“I'll call your mother,” he said, stepping out of the room.
I noticed the IVs were running low. Moments later, my mom rushed in, her expression a mixture of worry and relief.
“How are you? Your dad is speaking with the doctor.”
“I'm… what happened?” I asked, my scratched heart pounding. She hesitated before responding.
“There was an accident,” she said, pausing again.
“Zane?” I pressed, my anxiety mounting.
“I know he's still here, but they won't share any details with us,” she said, shaking her head. Just then, my dad returned with a young doctor, tall and bald, who appeared to be in his late thirties.
“How do you feel?” he asked while glancing at the monitor and typing on a computer.
“I want to know what happened to Zane, the boy who was driving,” I insisted, forcing the words out despite my weakened state.
“He's here and has undergone two successful surgeries,” the doctor replied, skirting around the specifics.
“When can I see him?” I demanded.
“Once you're stable, you'll be able to see him. His family is here as well,” the doctor added.
“What injuries do I have?” I inquired, my mind racing with concerns about my own condition.
“You have multiple fractured ribs on your right side, a sternal fracture due to the seatbelt—common, really.
You have a mild concussion, but no organ damage.
Your left shoulder was dislocated, but that's resolved now, and you have a fracture in your right ankle.
You'll need a boot for a few weeks. Other than that, you'll be fine,” he explained, offering a reassuring smile.
“And the baby?” I asked, my heart pounding with anxiety. The doctor exchanged glances with my parents before addressing me.
“Everything is okay; it's still early in the pregnancy, and the risk of miscarriage is low. We've checked everything, so there's no need to worry.” Was I an awful person for wishing to hear a different response?
“And Zane? What are his injuries?” I pressed eagerly.
“I'm sorry, but I can only discuss that with family,” the doctor replied.
“I am family!” I exclaimed; my parents froze in shock.
“Please, I need to know,” I pleaded, desperation flooding my voice. The doctor sighed heavily before responding.
“His injuries are more severe. He has multiple fractures in his bones and skull, some organ damage, and aortic dissection.”
“What does that mean?” I asked urgently.
“It means he will need further surgery, but he is stable, so we are optimistic about his recovery. Get some rest; we'll have you up and moving tomorrow,” he said before leaving the room.
I needed to see Zane; I had to know he was alright.
“Can someone find Valentina? She's his sister,” I requested, desperation creeping into my voice.
“Sweetheart, please listen to the doctor; you need to rest,” my mom said softly.
“Please, I can't rest until I know he's okay,” I begged, tears wetting my face.
“Tomorrow, I promise,” my dad added.
“No,” I shouted, anger bubbling beneath the surface, causing pain to ripple through my body. My father didn't argue; he left to find her. My mother regarded me in silence.
“Don't look at me like that. I love him, and nothing will keep me from being with him,” I declared firmly. My father returned after some time.