Chapter Fifty-Two
Chiara
My heart is still racing and my hands haven’t stopped shaking as I listen to a doctor from the private clinic droning on about my condition.
Aside from a few bruises on my face, throat and upper body, I’m fine.
He adds that a trauma specialist will check in later to evaluate me and check for early signs of PTSD.
I’m listening with one ear and nodding half-heartedly when required.
I’m distracted, my mind is elsewhere. I’m anxious to get out of this room, anxious to go see Lucas.
He had been wheeled away as soon as we got here, and no one has let me see him despite my pleas.
Only Lily’s presence and her regular updates on him have kept me from bolting out of the room like a madwoman.
Lily says he has a cracked rib, internal bruising, a hairline fracture on his nose, and cuts and bruises from the car crash.
And the gash on his cheek had required stitching.
Lily had assured me that he is being taken care of by the best team in the clinic, but I need to see him for myself.
Finally, somewhere around midnight, the doctor gives me permission to get up, and the moment he leaves, I’m already out of the bed.
“I’m going to see him,” I mutter, reaching the door. “I can’t stay here another second.”
Lily nods, a knowing smile on her lips. “Room to the left at the far end of the corridor.”
I thank her and rush out toward the direction she gave me. But even without directions, I would’ve found him. His voice booms down the quiet corridor.
“—going to see her. Let me go!” he bellows, voice angry and slurred at the edges.
The door to his room is ajar and I stick my head through the crack.
“Mr. Romano, you’ve already pulled at your IV twice.” The nurse’s voice is filled with frustration. “If you continue, we’ll have to increase the sedative. You need to stay still.”
“Don’t,” he growls, his voice thick and stubborn. “Don’t you dare. I’m fine. Unhook me and I’ll go to her—”
I push the door open. “What if I come and sit with you instead?”
His head snaps up toward me. And even sedated, bruised and barely holding on to consciousness, the transformation is immediate.
His shoulders drop, his breath comes out in a long exhale and his entire body sags with relief.
A slow, boyish grin breaks over his battered face, and my chest aches at the sight.
“Cara mia,” he murmurs, relief written all over his face.
“I’m right here,” I say, stepping inside.
He tries to sit up, but the sedative makes his movements sluggish. I’m at his side in a beat, gently pressing a hand to his shoulder to keep him where he is.
“Don’t move,” I whisper. “I’m here now. I’m not going anywhere.”
His eyes flutter as exhaustion and the sedative pulls him under. “Stay,” he murmurs, voice barely audible. “Just…stay with me.”
“I will.”
I carefully slip onto the bed beside him, fitting myself against his good side. His fingers find mine clumsily, and within seconds, his breathing slows and his eyes close as the sedative finally drags him into oblivion. This time he doesn’t fight it.
Soon, sleep pulls me under, too.
* * * *
I slowly blink back to consciousness. My neck and body are stiff, but my mind is refreshed. I snuggle closer into the warmth next to my side, sighting contentedly. Then I remember. Lucas is hurt! I snap my head up from his shoulder where it had been resting, and look up at him.
Only to find that his eyes are already on me. My breath catches in my throat from the intensity of his gaze. And for what feels like an eternity, I am frozen under his scrutiny.
Then I remember where we are and bolt up with a gasp. “Lucas, I must be crushing you!”
He circles his arm around me to pull me back down and shakes his head. “No cara mia, I’ve never slept better than when you are against me.”
“But still…” I try to shift away, already bracing my hands against the mattress, only to be plastered back to his side.
He nuzzles my temple with a low chuckle when I keep on writhing. “Stay.”
A soft knock interrupts us, and I tense.
“Mr. Romano,” a man calls through the door. “We need to check your vitals.”
Lucas sighs quietly in annoyance. “Come in.”
I retreat to the chair beside the bed as the nurses move in, and I watch them efficiently checking monitors and politely asking routine questions.
He answers them calmly, one hand still loosely wrapped around mine until one of them needs to adjust the cuff on his arm.
Only then does he let go. The morning goes by in a blur, between medical staff coming and going, bringing in breakfast and helping him get cleaned.
“Don’t move from there,” Lucas orders before being dragged into the bathroom by a team of determined caregivers.
I roll my eyes from his authoritative tone, but I stay put, not wanting him to fret in his current state. When he comes out again, clad in a new black button-down pajama set, he seems ready to murder someone. “I’m getting out of here today,” he snaps at the doctor who just stepped into the room.
“We need to keep you here for forty-eight more hours, Mr. Romano,” the doctor replies evenly. “You’re still at risk of infection and we need to monitor you. After lunch, we will renew your painkillers, you might be sleepy afterward.”
“That’s fucking ridiculous, I’m getting out,” Lucas growls, but the doctor only shakes his head.
“No, you’re not,” a low voice barks from the doorway. “And that’s an order.”
Damiano steps in, Lily by his side. My sister immediately crosses the room to me and hugs me tight, and I hug her back. Then she approaches the bed, carefully wrapping her arms around Lucas.
Her husband is standing by the bed, busy in a silent glaring contest with Lucas. Lily turns back to me and takes my hand. “Come,” she says gently, tugging me toward the door.
Lucas snaps his head toward us, eyes blazing. He would have bolted from the bed if his boss hadn’t caught him firmly by the shoulder. “Where are you taking my wife?” He snarls.
“Getting a coffee outside while you men talk.” Lily sends him her sweetest, most disarming grin. I give him a quick reassuring smile, and though he looks like he wants to protest, we slip out of the room.