Chapter Forty-three
RONAN
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
The hospital buzzed with its usual activity—monitors beeping, footsteps echoing through the halls, the soft murmur of conversations in the distance. But I wasn’t really there. My mind drifted, lost in thoughts of Nina.
Our conversation the other night had left a mark on me, like a door opening to something I hadn’t realized I’d been waiting for. It was more than catching up—it was deeper, something that stirred emotions I’d long buried.
That night, with the city stretched out beneath us, felt like a moment suspended in time. There was an honesty between us that hadn’t existed before, a vulnerability which felt new and necessary. It wasn’t only about what we’d been, it was about what we could be.
My thoughts were still tangled in the memory of our night together when the phone rang, pulling me back into the present. I glanced at the screen and smiled, recognizing her name.
“Hey,” I said, answering her call. “It’s like you knew I was thinking about you.”
She laughed, a sound so pure it wrapped around me like a comforting embrace. “Aren’t you always?”
I chuckled. “You’re right about that. What’s up, tesoro?”
“I got off the road, went to do some business for my boutique, and thought to give you a call.”
“You missed me?” I asked, a teasing smile tugging at my lips.
“Maybe,” she replied, a playful tone in her voice.
“I don’t accept maybes; yes or no?”
“Yes, Ronan,” she said softly, “I missed you.”
My heart skipped a beat at her words. “W—”
A sudden knock on the door jerked me back to reality. I looked up to see Nurse Jenkins, her face pale and eyes wide with urgency. “Doc, Ms. Leann is having complications,” she said, her voice trembling.
“Nina, I hate to cut this short, but I have to go.”
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m not sure yet,” I said before hanging up.
I didn’t waste a second. I bolted from my chair and raced down the hallway, my heart pounding in my chest. The distance to her room felt both endless and too short. As I burst through the door, I saw her on the bed, her face contorted in pain.
My stomach dropped.
I rushed to her side, my hands moving instinctively to check her stats.
It was worse than I feared.
Her vitals plummeted, and there was nothing more I could do.
The realization hit me like a punch to the gut.
My knees buckled slightly, but I steadied myself.
I had to be strong for her.
I took her hand in mine, feeling the coolness of her skin against my palm.
She opened her eyes, and they met mine with a mixture of sorrow and resignation. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.
“Why?” I managed to ask, my throat tight with emotion.
“Because I failed you,” she murmured, her eyes glistening with tears. “You tried so hard to help me, and I failed you.”
A tear slipped down my cheek as I shook my head. “No, Ms. Leann. You never failed me. You gave me joy, you made me feel whole. You reminded me of my mom, and for that, I will always be grateful.”
She smiled weakly, a glimmer of warmth in her eyes. “I’m glad,” she said softly. “You made me know what it’s like to have a son. I’m so happy to have met you.”
Her words pierced me, a bittersweet ache. “I want you to be there for Azzaria,” she continued, her grip on my hand tightening. “I know you’re close to her. I didn’t get to tell her I was sick because I was scared of it, and now my time has run out. Ensure she keeps Dillon close, too. Promise me.”
“I promise,” I whispered, my voice breaking.
She nodded, her breathing becoming more labored.
I wanted to say more, to tell her how much she meant to me, but before I could find the words, her hand went limp in mine.
The room fell silent, the monitors displaying the finality of her passing.
I stood there, my heart shattering into a thousand pieces.
The loss was profound, a deep chasm that swallowed me whole.
But amidst the grief, I held onto the promises I made, knowing that her spirit would live on.
But what hurt more and lingered even longer was Azzaria.
How could I pass on such a detrimental message to her, especially after knowing how it felt to hear that your parents died?
The world seemed to blur around me as I stood there, gripping Leann’s lifeless hand. I was aware of Nurse Jenkins stepping quietly into the room, her presence a gentle reminder of the reality I didn’t want to face.
“She’s gone,” I whispered, more to myself than anyone else. The words hung heavy in the air, and I felt a crushing weight on my chest.
Nurse Jenkins placed a hand on my shoulder. “I’m so sorry,” she replied, her voice filled with genuine sorrow. I nodded numbly, unable to find the strength to respond. “Should we have Dr. McIntyre inform her family?”
I nodded again, “Yes. I’ll handle the rest.”
I gently laid Leann’s hand back on the bed, brushing a stray lock of hair from her forehead. She looked peaceful now, free from the pain that had consumed her in her final moments. But the peace I saw in her brings no comfort, only a deep, gnawing ache.
I left her room in a daze, the walls of the hospital closing in on me.
Each step felt heavy as if I was wading through thick mud.
Memories flood my mind: her bright smile when I walked into her room, the way she’d joke about the hospital food, the moments we had during her treatment sessions, the way she’d talk about Azzaria with such love and pride.
And now, she was gone, leaving behind an emptiness that seemed impossible to fill.
I grabbed my phone, my hand shaking. “Dillon, get to the hospital now.”
“I’m in a meeting.”
“Dillon,” I exhaled sharply, “They’re about to call Azzaria. Her mother is dead. Leave the fucking meeting, now.”
“No, no, no,” he whispered, his voice cracking. “I’ll be there soon.”
My mind flashed to the day I lost my parents, a pain I hadn’t felt so deeply in a long time. But I pushed it aside, remembering the duty I had to fulfill. I headed for the autopsy center to finalize the transport of her body.
“Sir,” Nurse Jenkins called as I neared the room. “Someone’s inside.”
“Who?” I asked, dread settling in.
“Her daughter.”
My heart dropped. I exhaled, steeling myself, and entered. Azzaria was there, looking completely lost, out of place, and utterly broken.
“Ronan,” she whispered, running to me.
“Zar,” I whispered, the words thick in my throat.
Before I could say anything more, she collapsed into my arms, her sobs tearing through me.
I held her, frustrated and helpless that Dillon wasn’t here yet.
I knew she needed him, not me. I was her best friend, but he was the one who could offer her even a shred of hope.
We stayed like that for what felt like forever before the autopsy team arrived. Azzaria pulled away, and I let her go, my heart shattering for her.
“Azzaria, we need to leave now. They have to transfer her to the morgue.”
Her swollen, tear-streaked face met mine, and my own eyes burned with unshed tears.
“I’ll be back. Dillon is on his way,” I promised.
She nodded, stepping out to the waiting area. I made sure the paperwork was in order and expedited her autopsy before returning, keeping my word to sit beside her.
I saw her frustration, felt it in my own chest. Sighing heavily, I said, “Azzaria, we need to talk, but not here.”
She followed me into an empty lab.
“Your mom’s been sick for months,” I began, “When she first came here, I didn’t know she was your mother. It wasn’t until after I connected the dots.”
“You knew?” Her voice was hoarse from the tears.
“I did, but—”
“Ronan, you knew my mother was sick. My only parent. You knew she was dying and didn’t tell me?” she choked, anger and heartbreak cutting through her words.
“We weren’t close back then. I was doing my job. I was trying to—”
“After that, we became close, and you still didn’t think to tell me my mother was dying?!” she shouted, the rage in her voice a stark contrast to her pain.
I paced, my own voice shaky. “Dillon and I came to an agreement—”
That only seemed to make things worse.
“Dillon knew?” She looked at me in disbelief, tears streaming down her face, her eyes wide with shock.
“Dillon knew what?” His voice cut through the tension, and I turned to see him walking toward us, fear in his eyes.
“Did you know my mom was sick?” she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
“Baby, I—”
“I didn’t ask you that. Yes or no. Did you know?” she demanded, her voice cracking.
He looked down at the floor, unable to hide the truth.
It was the first time I’d seen Dillon this broken since his grandparents died. I’d never seen him so visibly destroyed.
“You heard me talk about how sick she looked for months, and you didn’t tell me. You knew everything was happening and didn’t fucking tell me!” she screamed, her voice trembling with rage and heartbreak.
Dillon’s face went pale, regret and guilt swirling in his eyes. He opened his mouth to speak, but the words stuck in his throat.
“Baby, I’m s—”
“Get out!” she screamed, her voice breaking, fury and pain laced through every syllable. “Both of you.”
We exchanged a glance, then sighed, the sadness in our hearts weighing us down.
“Precious, let’s just—”
“Get out! I don’t want to see either of you right now!” she insisted, desperation and anger thick in her voice.
“I can’t leave you here,” Dillon protested, concern heavy in his tone. “Not when you’re—”
“If you love me as much as I know you do, you’ll get the hell out of here,” she demanded, her words sharp with heartbreak and rage.
“Dillon,” I whispered, “Let’s go. I’ll ask another doctor to sedate her, and we’ll go from there.”
He hesitated, but neither of us had the energy for any more arguments. Reluctantly, we left. I asked another doctor to check on her, reassuring Dillon that someone reliable would be with her.
“Let’s sit in silence. Ms. Leann liked the quiet,” I said quietly.
Dillon looked at me, tears in his eyes. “Ronan. I—”
“I said silence. Per favore,81” I pleaded, and so we sat, the hours stretching painfully.
Seven agonizing days had passed since Ms. Leann’s death, and the weight of her absence pressed on me harder than I ever expected. Grief had a way of sneaking up on you, slipping into parts of your heart you never knew were vulnerable.
I just…
I needed Nina.
Even though she had never met Leann, she understood what this loss meant to me. She knew what cancer had taken from my life. That word alone still felt like a curse. A ruthless thing that didn’t care who it destroyed, leaving families shattered and futures erased. I hated it with everything in me.
I ran a hand over my face, exhaustion and sorrow sinking into my bones. A glass of scotch burned on the way down, offering a moment of numbness before reality rushed back in. I still had patients to see, still had to be a doctor while my own heart was breaking.
Nina had been checking in quietly, sending messages, making sure I was still standing.
I did not want to lean on her too much. Our conversations had thinned, not because I did not want her, but because life was pulling us in different directions.
I was buried in hospital halls and therapy sessions. She was building an empire.
Azzaria was still grieving, and all I could do was wait until she was ready to face what her mother had left behind. Dillon was barely holding it together. Watching him try to be strong for her only made the loss feel heavier.
By the time I made it back to my office, drained from a day of fighting for other people’s lives, I did not expect to see Nina waiting for me.
She rose when I walked in, stunning in a red pantsuit, her hair sleek and smooth around her shoulders. Her lipstick matched the fire in her eyes. Strong, beautiful, and unmistakably her.
For the first time all day, my chest loosened.
“Hey, beautiful,” I murmured.
She stepped closer and wrapped me in a soft, careful hug, like she knew I was fragile beneath the surface. My hands settled at her waist without thinking.
“I wanted to see you,” she said quietly. “Come stai?82”
“Sto meglio,83” I answered honestly. “Better now.” My gaze softened. “And you look incredible. That red lipstick should be illegal.”
“Flirting with me, Dr. Romano?”
“With only you.”
She smiled, then reached into her bag. “I brought something.”
She pulled out two small knitted, heart-shaped plushes, each stitched with initials. My family’s. Leann’s.
My throat tightened. “Nina…”
“I thought having something physical might help,” she said softly. “And I made one for Azzaria too.”
I gazed at them, overwhelmed by how deeply she understood me. “I do not even know how to thank you.”
“You don’t have to.” Her fingers brushed my arm. “Let me be here.”
And I did.
She stayed with me in the office, quiet and steady, while I worked through paperwork and memories. Sometimes we talked. Sometimes we sat together, sharing the kind of silence that only exists between people who know each other’s hearts.
“I love having you here,” I admitted softly. “It makes this easier.”
She smiled. “I’m sure you would rather have Rachel.”
I laughed and pulled her into my arms, holding her close. “Funny.”
“Is this appropriate, Dr. Romano?” she teased. “Touching a guest like this?”
“Just a guest?” I asked, meeting her eyes.
She tilted her head. “What do I look like to you?”
“The love of my life.”
Her breath caught. “Consider me charmed.”
I held her there, not ready to let go, because for the first time in days, the grief didn’t feel so heavy.