My brother…
Oh shit! Luca is alive! My brother isn’t dead, and he’s back home where he belongs. I could cry with how happy I am right now. I listen to hear something, but there’s only silence.
Well, that’s not exactly true. I hear the sound of machines humming softly from beside me. A beeping sound that keeps going in a steady rhythm. It’s strange, and I wonder what it is… and why does it keep beeping?Strange.
As I start to become fully conscious, I let out a soft groan. The dull throbbing is just a little more noticeable now. It’s not too bad, but I can definitely feel it a bit.
Shifting my body a little, it’s then that I realize that something isn’t quite right. My body feels wrong… lighter than it should be.
It feels like something is missing. I can tell my hand is resting on the top of my stomach, and I realize it’s kind of flat.
There’s nothing in there. It’s hollow and sore. Definitely sore in a way I don’t remember it being. What is the last thing I remember? I try to think…
When I try to shift some more, something on my stomach pulls a little. It feels like it’s a bandage that’s covering the lower half of it.
A memory slams into me with the force of a collision. My breath hitches because now I remember it all.
The pain. The cramping or was it contractions? The bleeding…
My baby!
My eyes fly open in an instant. The room I’m in is unfamiliar, but it definitely looks like a hospital room. I look down at my stomach and see that it is flat, just like I felt it was a second ago.
I’m just about to start panicking when I hear a sound coming from my right. It’s a soft, uneven little sound. A newborn cry. Well, maybe it’s a whimper or a little fuss? Who knows? Because I can’t tell yet.
Turning my head slowly to where the sound is coming from, tears instantly well in my eyes at the sight before me.
My husband is sitting in a recliner across the room, near the window, a little bundle wrapped up in a pretty pink blanket in his arms.
Our baby.
The first thought that enters my mind is that she’s here and she’s safe. A wave of relief hits me so hard, I have to choke back the sob that wants to escape.
He looks really hot sitting there with our baby and a bottle in his hands. She looks so tiny next to him, and I don’t miss how protectively he’s holding her.
I watch as he unwraps the blanket from her body and holds her up on his chest while making sure that one of his hands is supporting her head. He then places a kiss on the top of that little head, closing his eyes and taking a moment to breathe in her baby scent.
She’s wearing a cute pink onesie that looks adorable on her. He settles her in the crook of his arm, putting a little hat on her head before taking her blanket and putting it over her legs.
The sight of the two of them is so heartwarming that I silently thank God for bringing Enzo into my life.
“You are one hungry little monster,” Enzo says, doing some kind of baby talk with her, a soft smile filled with pure love on his face. “It feels like I just fed you. You’ve got quite the appetite on you,bambina,for only being a few hours old.”
He’s cooing to her softly, but I can still hear him from where I’m lying on the bed. He puts the bottle to her lip, and she instantly latches on, gulping down the milk he’s feeding her. “Strong too,” he says, voice full of pride.
The two of them become blurry as tears fill my vision. That may have been the best thing I’ve ever witnessed in my entire life.
I must make a noise because his head snaps up and he’s looking right at me. His whole body relaxes instantly when he sees I’m awake, relief palpable on his face, but then his expression changes to concern when he sees the tears streaming down my cheeks.
He carefully gets up, our baby still protectively held in his arms and the bottle in her mouth, and crosses the room quickly but carefully, since he’s carrying precious cargo. He slowly sits down on the chair directly next to my bed.
“Hey,” he whispers, his voice thick with emotion. “You’re awake.”
I try to speak, but I can’t because I’m overcome with emotion too. It takes me a few moments before I finally manage to get some words out. “Is she okay?”
“She’s perfect. So beautiful like her mama. She’s okay, and you’re okay too, baby. I was so fucking worried about you. Don’t ever do that to me again,” he whispers.
“I’m sorry,” I choke out.
