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I try to open my eyes, but they feel glued shut.
“He’s breathing on his own,” I hear someone else say. “He’s out of the induced coma, but he may take some time to come out of it fully.”
I feel a warm hand holding mine. My skin feels so cold, yet there’s a fire running through my body, through my blood, trying to escape so I can wake up and see all the people I care about.
My girl.
Mybelladonna.
“What if he doesn’t?” I hear her whisper. “What if…”
“Shhh,” a male voice, maybe Angelo, comforts her. “We mustn’t think like this. This family is strong; we can survive anything. We have to believe he will come back to us.”
“Angelo’s right,” says another male voice.Marco?“If anyone can claw his way back from being fucking shot, it’s Enzo.”
“Language, Marco!” Ma scolds.
How come I can hear everybody, but I can’t move or open my eyes?
I need to remember what I saw, what I just experienced, I need to tell Valentina.
It’s all going to be okay. I know it. I feel it in my bones. But my body just feels so heavy.
“I’m just so scared.” I hear Valentina’s voice again.
“He’s through the worst.” It definitely sounds like Angelo. “The doctors said so, but the next twenty-four hours are crucial.”
“I can’t lose him, Angelo…” Valentina starts to cry, and I want to make her tears go away. I want to reach out to her and hold her close.
“Stop all this talk, Valentina,” Ma says, her voice firm. “Enzo is as strong as he is capable, it is not his time.”
“How do you know that?” she sobs.
I hear footsteps, as though her Ma moves closer to her.
“Because I feel it in my bones, child.”
Some time goes by, I don’t know how long, but I feel a hand on my arm.
“My darling boy,” my mom’s voice speaks softly, barely a whisper. “You’ve been the greatest joy in my life. You’re everything in a son I could ever have wished for. I’m so lucky to be your mother. Every day you’ve enriched my life, making me so proud, Enzo Luciano Russo. Please come back to me. Please don’t leave me.”
Things must be bad if they’re all declaring their love for me. I must look like shit.
I want to laugh, but everything hurts.Why can’t I fucking move?
“Ken,” my mom says. “When will he wake up?”
I feel movement at my side. I warm, masculine hand brushes through my hair.
“He will come back when he’s ready. He’s a fighter, my darling, just like his momma.”
I hear my mom softly cry as Ken, the only real father I’ve ever known, continues to hum to me an Italian tune from when I was a child.
Time passes again.
“Okay, fucker, this has gone on long enough.” Rocco. He moves closer to my ear. “If you don’t hurry and wake the fuck up, I’m gonna make the moves on your girl. You hear that, E?”
“Jesus Christ, Rocco!” Valentina cries. “Don’t say that! He’ll have a coronary!”
