Izzy.
Where is Izzy?
Bright hospital lighting burns at my retinas.
Wires decorate my chest.
I rip them out.
Alarms start blaring. The sound grates on my eardrums.
I don’t care.
Pushing myself up, I swing my legs off the bed. Standing ishard, my body drained of energy. But my need for Izzy is more important.
I stumble into the hallway.
The receptionist startles, eyes darting up at the sound. Her face screws up in fear as she sees me, throat bobbing.
“M… Mr. Russo,” she stutters. “You can’t—”
“Where is she?”
She doesn’t answer right away, just starts clicking on her keyboard, one hand reaching for the phone.
“Where is my wife?” I bellow, not caring that I’m making a scene. Not caring that my entire body hurts. All I need is Izzy.
“Room 223. Second floor. But—”
I stop listening, turning on my stride and following the signs up to her floor.
Finally, I stop outside her door just as the nurse from before leaves.
“Mr. Russo, you’re not supposed to be up here.”
I glare at her.
She doesn’t flinch, just sighs before continuing. “I know you’re going to go in anyway.”
I nod, pushing the door open carefully. “Thank you…” I trail off, realizing I have no idea of her name.
She smiles with no warmth. “Ameli.”
I turn back to the door, preparing myself for what lies on the other side.
Izzy’s honey hair spills around her peaceful face. She groans, eyelids fluttering as I move towards her. They blink open, those beautiful blues locking on me.
“Hi,” she rasps, her voice scratchy.
“Hi,Cuore mio.”
“You’re supposed to be in bed,” she scolds, but her lips are turned upward.
“Better make some room for me then.”
She scoots over, patting the small space beside her.
I settle in, grasping her hand in mine and bringing it to my lips, letting the kiss linger against her skin before pulling away.
