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“My ex-wife Angelina shot you in the chest when she came to the house yesterday. You came to the hospital, had an operation to remove the bullet, and now you are in the ward recovering.” He’s so matter-of-fact, and I can’t get past how his voice no longer feels like the familiar warm hug I remember, but distant and cold. So much so, my body shivers under the featherlight white hospital gown I am wearing.
“What’s wrong?” I ask him, but his lips press together. He is clearly unhappy.
“Oh good, she is awake,” a doctor says as she walks in the door, interrupting our moment. She is stunning, dressed in a crisp white medical coat, her hair long and glossy, her face immaculate in perfect makeup, as she walks up to my bed and begins to look over my chart.
“You are a very lucky woman, Miss Peterson. I’m Dr. Wakeford. I have been looking after you since you came in the ambulance yesterday. Tell me, what do you remember?” she asks me, looking at me with caring eyes, the type I expected from Dante who is now back across the room, leaning against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest, jaw clenching. He couldn’t get farther away from me if he tried.
My eyes dart between him and the doctor.
“She is trusted, Red. You can tell her,” Dante grits out to me, and my eyes widen, still shocked at his tone.
“Ahh… well, I remember being at home...” I start, but don’t miss the cracking noise that comes from Dante as he moves his head from side to side. Why is he so angry?
“Umm, and then Leo’s mother came in...” My eyes widen, and I sit up. “Leo?” I say in a panicked tone.
“He is fine, Red,” Dante says, softening a little, and I take a breath and relax back down against my pillow.
“Go on,” the doctor says as she records my pulse and listens to my recollection.
“Then she shot me, and that is all I remember,” I say as my mind flicks through the mental images that float in my brain of the memory.
“Okay. Well, all your vital signs are good. We had you in surgery yesterday. The bullet went into your right upper chest, between your breast and shoulder. We managed to remove the bullet. You were very lucky, as it missed your main artery and was easy to remove,” Doctor Wakeford says, and I nod as I take in her prognoses.
“While we had you in surgery to remove the bullet, we ran some scans and they showed a mass in your right breast. Were you aware of the lump, Miss Peterson?” she asks me, and my breath gets caught in my throat. I look at Dante, whose eyes are laser-focused on me, and the penny drops. He knows. The beeping on the monitor quickens, and Dante clenches his jaw.
“Yes,” I whisper to the doctor, all the while looking at Dante, and I see his face visibly contort with rage at my confession.
“Does breast cancer run in your family, Annie?” the doctor asks, grabbing my hand. Tears fall from my eyes as I watch Dante, who is now standing tall and seems even more distant. He knows I lied to him… he knows I kept this from him.
“Yes, my mother passed away a few months ago from it,” I barely whisper, my heart thumping in my chest. His body isn’t moving, but I know he is retreating. He is removing me from his heart. I can see it, I can feel it, and my heart is beginning to break because of it.
“Okay, well, we have removed the mass and sent that off for testing, and we should have the results later today. I had a look around at your lymph nodes and other areas, and I couldn’t see any other masses or any other issues. I will talk to you later once we have the results and we’ll work out a plan of action after that. I will organize the nurses to come in now and help you with a shower and something to eat. Rest up, and I will be back later today,” she says to me with a small smile, but I can’t look at her, my eyes filling with more tears as I stare at Dante. I can feel his anger permeating from his body. The doctor looks from me to Dante and back again before patting my hand and walking out of the room.
“Dante…” I begin to speak, but he cuts me off.
“You fucking lied to me, Red. I asked you, time and time again. We spoke about your mom, your past, and not once did you mention having a fucking lump in your body. All I ask from people is honesty. All I wanted was for you to tell me the goddamn truth!” His voice rises as he begins to pace the room at the foot of my bed.
“I’m sorry. I’m so sorry,” I cry out, tears now falling freely, my weakened voice now betraying me because I can’t get his attention like I need to. “Dante, please, let me explain.” I try and gather my racing thoughts, the drugs in my system doing nothing to help clear my foggy mind.
“I told you I hate liars. I told you that small white lies fester and things get out of control. This is exactly what Angelina did, she lied. Her small lies grew into bigger ones, and because of her, Leo suffered. I told you, Annie, I fucking told you!” I can see the pain and torment in his eyes, and I hate myself for putting it there.
“Dante, please, please, just listen to me. Let me explain,” I plead, but I can’t even hear myself through my sobs.
“It’s too late, Red. I fucking loved you, and you lied. If you can lie about something this big, what else could you keep from me? I don’t even know you. You are no better than her,” he spits out at me, before throwing my medical file across the room and stalking toward the door.
But all I heard was… he loved me? And that’s enough to give me the strength to push through my nerves and exhaustion to tell him what I need to. The truth.
“Dante! Please! I was scared to tell you. I was scared that you would treat me differently, that you wouldn’t want me once you knew!” I plead out to him, my hands trembling as I try and sit up. I reach for him, but he is too far away. He stops right near the door, but doesn't look at me.
“Nico is here. He will stand guard for you while you are here, and then you will be taken to our safehouse until those assholes are caught and it is safe for you to leave,” he says, his voice low. “After that, you will be on your own. I don’t want liars in my life. Leo doesn’t deserve any more of them either. Forget you know us, forget what you saw and heard, and forget what we had, because it all meant nothing.”
“Dante! No!” I shout to him, tears running down my cheeks, my heart feeling like the bullet went through it yesterday instead of my shoulder. I try to move, to go to him, but I am trapped onto the bed by a mess of cords and tubes. I feel like my life is ending; right here, right now. Like the minute he walks out the door, it is all over.
“Dante! Please! I love you!” I cry out for him, needing him now more than ever. Admitting my love for him, only to have him look away.
“Goodbye, Red.” He flings open the door so hard that it bangs against the wall, leaving a dent in the plaster, and I watch helplessly as his tall frame stalks out of the room. And out of my life.
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