Page 49 of Aldo

“The two of you were having a good gab session about feelings, were you?” I asked.

He grinned. “Pain meds tend to make people talkative. And frankly, I was glad they did. I like her, Aldo. I like her a lot. Don’t fuck this up.”

I didn’t have a chance to retort since Dr. Sims had walked in, and shortly after, Vi woke up.

But now as I sat and watched her, I knew he was right. She was special, and she was mine. She was also hurt and needed my care, and she would have that.

My phone buzzed with a message, and I saw it was Roman.

BTW, I added to the guest list—you and a plus-one for the wedding. It’s in ten days, so she should be well enough to come. Luca is thrilled. He can’t wait to meet her. And you should take her to see Nonna again. I might have mentioned your new relationship status to her.

I had no response aside from a rude icon I sent him. I knew the bastard was laughing at me, enjoying all this. I sent him a return message.

Me

Wait until it is your turn. I am going to have a shit-ton of fun at your expense.

Roman

Will never happen.

Me

Never say never, you smug prick. I’ll remind you of this one day.

He returned my rude icon, and I set aside my phone, then picked it up again. I had things that needed to happen, and I needed help.

VI

I woke up to the sun filling the hospital room. Aldo was beside me, his head bent as he frowned at something on his phone. I cleared my sore throat, and he looked up, instantly alert. He slid his phone into his pocket and leaned over closer to me. His expression was unreadable, but his eyes were a mass of emotions. Far too many to understand.

“Hey baby, how are you feeling?”

“Sore. Thirsty.”

“I got you this.” He placed a straw in my mouth, and I sipped the icy cold mango smoothie. It was delicious and felt good on my throat. He smiled as I gripped the cup, pulling it from his hands.

“Take it slow,” he advised.

I sipped the delicious beverage.

“When you’re done, they’ll check you out and discharge you.”

“It’s noon?”

He chuckled. “You remembered hearing that, did you?”

“Bits and pieces. Did I pass the CT?”

“Yes, and it’s almost twelve. I’ll take you home—you’ll be more comfortable.” He paused. “My place.”

I nodded in agreement. “The hotel will be more comfortable.”

He shook his head. “My house. I’m taking you to my house.”

I stopped sipping and looked at him. “Why?”

“Because I can care for you there easier. You’ll have the privacy and space you need to heal.” He cleared his throat. “As long as you’re okay with that.”