EPILOGUE HE’S ALL I HAVE
T he epidural didn’t work. I’m feeling every bit of this goddamn pain.
I don’t know how many hours I’ve been here. The pain doesn’t even let me think straight. You can’t stay calm when your body and heart are both in torment.
I’m all alone on one of the most important days of my life. Stefan went on his trip, even though he knew I could have the baby at any moment. I called my mother, but my father wouldn’t let her leave the house.
I have no one.
Dante said he’d be here. He promised that, when we had a baby, he’d be there with me, singing softly in my ear.
It was a lie.
And it hurts. So much.
“Honey, I know it hurts, but you must breathe,” the doctor says, standing close. “Do you want me to bring someone? It could distract you and—”
“I’ve got no one.” My voice cracks.
The doctor sighs and leaves without a word.
I press my trembling hands against my face as another contraction tears through me.
I’m alone. Completely alone. How am I supposed to take care of a baby? I don’t know anything. Sure, I can cook, but that’s nothing. I must learn how to change him, dress him, stay calm when he cries. I must be better than my father. I don’t want to be like him.
But what if it’s a girl? God, if it’s a girl, they’ll take her away. No one wants the girls.
I should have had an abortion. I shouldn’t have called my mum. That was my second mistake, because when they found me, I had the ultrasound in my hand.
I can’t give this baby anything—not a home, not a future. I don’t even know if I’ll love him the way I should.
The door creaks open. Footsteps draw closer, but I don’t look up. I can’t stop crying.
He’s here, standing beside me, but my patience is gone.
“I—I heard you,” I sob. “Talk to me. Please.”
He sighs.
“I don’t know what else to do besides telling you that you’ll be okay, sweetheart.”
My heart stutters. I stare at the man in front of me. He’s wearing a surgical gown. A mask covers his mouth, and a cap hides his hair. His brown eyes hold mine.
There are no blue eyes. No dark hair curling on his forehead. No scars etched into the skin I’ve dreamt of for months.
He either speaks like him, or I’m losing my mind.
“I thought—You sound like someone I know.”
Like someone I love…d.
“That’s a bad thing?”
Is it? Is it bad to crave the comfort of a man who bought you?
I nod, and the tears fall again, unstoppable.
“Gwen will be back any second, sweetheart. Everything will be all right. You’ll have your baby in the blink of an eye.”
He talks just like him. The way he says sweetheart kills me. But he’s not him. He’s nothing like the man I... hate.
“Can you… pretend you’re him?”
He swallows hard, and for a moment, pain flashes across his eyes.
“Your husband?”
I shake my head slowly. “An ex-boyfriend.”
Relief softens his expression as he reaches for my hand.
“I’ll pretend as long as you need. I’m right here.”
But you’re not.
He should be here. Dante. Not a stranger who looks like him—no, he doesn’t even look like him. It’s just his voice, his tone. Maybe it’s the pain twisting my mind. Maybe this isn’t even happening, and I’m still utterly alone.
Real or imagined, his presence steadies me, if only a little. The doctor returns with a few nurses, and panic rises in my chest when I see him shift as if to leave. I grab his hand tightly.
“Don’t leave me again. Please.”
God, I’m so pathetic.
He doesn’t reply, and I don’t dare look at him. Instead, I close my eyes and pretend. Pretend it’s Dante by my side, as real as he once was. I imagine him standing there, looking at me with those excited eyes, the way he would have when meeting our first child.
Though he’s not him. Nor is this his child. The father hasn’t spoken to me in two days.
“Okay, it seems like the baby wants to come out,” the doctor, Gwen, says, positioning herself between my legs. “Push when I tell you. Daniel will stay by your side. Feel free to hit him—I encourage it, as hard as you can.”
I know I should laugh, but I can’t. Everything hurts too much. My chest burns as I shake my head, gripping the man’s hand tighter. He presses his mask against my knuckles like he’s trying to kiss them through it.
The next few minutes blur into pain and his soft words. He flatters me, encourages me, tells me I’m strong. But I don’t feel strong. I feel broken, terrified, so tired I can barely think. I don’t want to do this anymore. I want to let go. I just want it all to stop.
“You’re doing excellent, sweetheart,” he whispers against my ear. “You’re amazing.”
“It hurts.” My voice cracks. I don’t know if I’m talking about his words or the labour.
“I know. Just keep going. You’re almost there.”
“Give me one hard push, Lana,” Gwen says.
I take a shaky, desperate breath and push with everything I have. Pain tears through me, sharper than before. I’m tired. I’m hurting. I want this to end. I just want to sleep. I just want—
The truth is, I want my baby. I can’t keep denying it. I need to meet him, to hold him, even if only for a few fleeting minutes. But I’m terrified—terrified they’ll take him from me. Terrified they’ll do to him what they did to me.
I don’t want him to suffer.
I don’t want to go through this alone, but I don’t want my husband here either. I don’t want him anywhere near us. I won’t let him touch my baby the way my father touched me. I’ll keep him safe, even if I die trying.
The sound of crying fills the room, just as relief floods my aching body. But it’s fleeting, replaced immediately by fear and uncertainty.
Please, let him be a boy. Let me have him for a few years before they take him from me. Please—
“Congratulations, mama, you have a beautiful baby boy,” Gwen says.
Relief takes over my whole body.
“Thank you.” The words echo in my mind. “Thank you so much.”
She places him in my arms. He’s covered in blood, his tiny face scrunched and wrinkled, but he’s mine. Entirely mine.
I won’t let anyone hurt him. No one will touch him.
“Hello, little monster,” I whisper.
The man presses a kiss to the top of my head through his mask, and to my surprise, it doesn’t bother me.
“Do you have a name in mind?” he asks gently.
I never thought of one. I can’t name him Dante; that would be pure torture for me, and I’d feel even more pathetic. His father’s name is out of the question, and my father’s name doesn’t deserve to be remembered. I could name him Victor, but I’m not very fond of the idea.
“What’s your name?” I ask him.
The man stiffens, his grip tightening slightly on my hand.
“Don’t name your baby after a stranger, mama,” Gwen interjects with a knowing smirk. “You have no idea what kind of trouble that might bring him.”
A faint laugh escapes me, weak but real.
I stroke my baby’s delicate face.
Memories flash through my mind—our first date. That same day, a kid trusted me, and I helped him find his way back to his mother.
Back then, I still trusted someone. And someone, even for a moment, believed in me.
“Does Finn sound too bad?” I murmur.
The baby’s tiny hand clasps my pinky, his fingers so impossibly small yet strong. His wide eyes lock onto mine.
“Finn sounds perfect, sweetheart.”
I exhale slowly, exhaustion settling over me.
Finn Cassano. It would’ve sounded so beautiful.
Daniel strokes my head gently as I keep my focus on the boy in my arms. The doctor and nurses move around me, doing whatever they need to with my body, but I don’t care. None of it matters anymore. I have everything I need right here. He’s my reason to keep going.
Now I understand my mum.
Daniel hums a soft tune. It’s familiar, but I’m too tired to figure out which one it is.
“You look exhausted, mama,” the doctor says softly as they finish. “We’ll take Finn for the night so you can get some rest, okay?”
No. I can’t let them take him.
I turn to the man beside me, searching his face like it holds answers. Like he’s someone I can trust.
“I can’t…” My voice breaks. “I don’t want to leave my baby.”
“He’ll be fine,” Gwen reassures me. “It’s just for tonight, so you can sleep.”
The man’s eyes meet mine with such sadness that it’s contagious. It even looks like he’s been crying.
“You won’t… take him from me?”
“No, sweetheart,” Daniel murmurs, his voice sounds… hurt.
I want to believe him. Just for today. I need to use the little trust I have.
My eyes water. “Can you take care of him? Don’t lie. I can’t take more lies.”
“With my life, Lana,” he says, and something in his voice strikes deep within me.
Dante.
No. He’s not him. I know he’s not. But my mind—my heart—is playing cruel tricks again.
Tears blur my vision as I nod and hand over my baby. Daniel takes him with such care, holding him as if Finn were the most delicate thing in the world.
“Please…” My voice is barely a whisper, my body too heavy to fight against sleep. “He’s all I have.”
Daniel nods, and I let my eyes drift closed.
In the darkness, I see them—those dark blue eyes I love, the scars lining his face, the messy black hair I missed.
Dante leans closer in my mind.
“I promise he’ll be okay, ragnetta . Tomorrow, you’ll see him again,” he says softly.
A faint nod is all I can manage. I let myself give in to the fantasy, to the comfort of his voice.
Someday, the pain will stop.