Chapter 6 #3
“Dario called the hospital,” I say as Caesar hands her to me. Even through the puffer suit she’s wearing, I can feel the warmth of her fever. “I’ll call the city to send someone to clear the street. You come when it’s done.”
“Thank you, Don. We owe you.”
As I walk off, his gratitude lingers. We owe you.
Glancing down at her rosy cheeks and red eyelashes, I have to ignore how that comment grates me. My lungs are burning by the time I reach the car, relieved I can still open the door.
Shit . There’s no car seat. With no choice, I place her in the front, buckling her in. The car screeches in reverse as a call comes through the dashboard. “Yes?”
“It’s prepared. Go through the east entrance. There will be a door by the parking lot you can enter through undetected. I’ve already got someone blocking the cameras. Carlo is the closest to the Bronx. I’ve told him he’s covering you.”
“Thanks, Dario.”
“Don’t mention it. I hope everything’s okay.”
Glancing down at the child beside me, I nod, hearing unusual fear in my voice. “Me too.”
Isabella’s eyes drag open drowsily. The green in them is the same shade as mine. Our likeness hits me in a rush. She looks just like me. She has her mother’s hair and paleness, but my eyes. Despite her vibrant hair, she has the features of an Italian.
“Daddy,” she croaks.
My heart, it expands . I don’t remember the last time I felt relief like this. I gently slip my hand around hers, careful of the IVs. “I'm here.”
“C…cold.”
“You have a fever. The doctors are taking care of you.” She glances around, looking for her parents. I breathe in, sitting down on the edge of the bed. “They’ll be here soon.”
“Cold, Daddy. ”
She lacks the strength to squeeze my hand. Her wiggling fingers are the only sign she’s trying.
I slide next to her, offering the side of my body.
Without moving, she drops her head onto my shirt.
As time passes, my eyes remain on the downpour beyond the windows, stuck on the multi-colored Christmas lights strung up around the hospital.
Every so often, Carlo glances into the room.
He’s new, but he should keep this to himself. I’ll have to make sure of it.
Isabella curls into my side, winding her arm around mine, digging her tiny face into my sweater. Holding my breath, I rest my hand against her forehead, relaxing when it’s cooler than before. My fingers lightly swipe away the wet hair clinging to her face.
My child. It’s not often I allow myself to think that.
The door bursts open, and Rosa dives for the bed, with Caesar right behind her. I slip out of Isabella’s tight grip, letting them claim her. Rosa plants kisses on her face, waking her. “Oh, baby. You’re okay. You’re okay.”
Caesar strides over and clasps my hand. “Thank you, Don Marcello.”
“Xavier,” I insist. “And there’s no thanks necessary.”
He reels from that, but seems eager to embrace the informality. “I don’t even wanna imagine how bad this could have been. Pneumonia is so scary at her age.”
I nod, my mind totally on Isabella and her mom, not sure whether I should stay or leave.
Her parents are here. Go.
When I reach the door, I hear a small voice.
“Daddy.”
When I turn, I do so knowing she’s looking at Caesar. It stuns me that she’s not.
Her green eyes are on me.
All of their eyes are on me.
Caesar is out getting coffee when Rosa makes the first move to speak. We’ve both been silently watching Isabella sleep, neither of us knowing what to say.
“She wants you in her life, Xavier.”
“It’s dangerous.”
“Well, make it less dangerous. That’s your specialty. Look at how you organized all of this.”
I made up my mind about her years ago. For Isabella’s safety, I keep my distance. At my lack of an answer, Rosa releases an exasperated sigh. “Sometimes, I really regret telling her who you are. It would be easier for her if she thought Caesar was her father.”
I nod, understanding her. Doesn’t mean it feels good to hear.
“She’s only seen you a handful of times and loves you. I’m with her every day, following her, making sure she eats enough, plays enough, and she still asks for you. In her small vocabulary, most of her words pertain to her father, who’s never around. I don’t understand it.”
“Neither do I.”
Rosa’s painted lips form a thoughtful line. “You have this allure about you. Always have. It draws everyone in. I suppose that’s useful for someone of your standing.”
“If I could be someone else, Rosa, I would.”
It shocks her to hear that. It shows more than ever that she doesn’t know much about me aside from what I showed her in our brief time together. “Sophia wanted that, didn’t she? She wanted something different?”
“I don’t want to talk about her.”
“You loved her.”
My eyes close, frustrated she’d ask a question she already knows the answer to. “ Yes . ”
“Is she really gone?”
“Rosa.”
“You deserve some happiness. I know this isn’t what you wanted.
I know you wanted to have children with her—” Her words disappear as I stand.
She holds my gaze. “This baby is made of us. I know you love Bella. It’s plain on your face.
You can’t hide it. You wouldn’t have gone through a blizzard to get her here if you didn’t love her. ”
I want to tell her so much, that those I love get hurt.
I can’t protect anyone. I failed once already. As much as I try to distance myself from them, they won’t go.
Bo. Dante. Zeke. Courtney. Isabella.
I couldn’t handle losing someone else.
The fear plagues me daily.
My eyes linger on Isabella’s face, hearing soft wheezing whispering past her pale lips. I feel the exact moment I give up, dropping into the chair. I claim Isabella’s hand and bring it to my cheek while her mother watches me from across the bed. “I want to be in her life, Rosa.”
Her smile softens as Caesar enters the room, balancing a tray of cups. “We’ll make it work.”