For myself.
For the life that's slipping through my fingers with each passing moment. Leila… Thoughts of her flood my mind in an instant, and a pang of fear grips my heart. What if she thinks I abandoned her? How long have I been here? What if she's moved on, thinking I'll never wake up? I never had the courage to tell her how I feel, to lay bare my heart and soul for her to see.
Fuck you Nicholas!
Fuck my life!
Finally,after what feels like an eternity, my eyes flutter open, and I'm greeted by harsh fluorescent lights and the sterile smell of antiseptic. It takes every ounce of strength I have to keep them open, to focus on the world around me.
“Mr. Bonetti, can you hear me?” The voice cuts through the fog of my consciousness, pulling me back from the brink of oblivion. I try to reply, but words fail me, so I grasp her hand tightly, pleading silently for her not to leave me alone again.
“It's so good to have you back.” Her voice is a lifeline in the darkness. But then she shifts, and I lose my grip, my heart pounding with panic.Please don't go, I silently cry out, but no one can hear me. Relief floods through me when she returns. I'm awake. It's not a dream.
“This may burn a little bit, and I apologize,” she warns, and I brace myself as she moves closer. I close my eyes, fighting back the urge to push down a wave of nausea. Her cold hand presses on my wrist, and I feel a flicker of warmth spread through me. “Here you go,” she offers me a glass of water.
I sip on it gratefully, my mouth drier than the desert itself. “Thank... thank you,” I manage to choke out, my voice hoarse and barely audible.
“It'll take a few days to ease the pain in your throat,” she explains gently. “I'm Ava.” Her smile is warm and genuine, a ray of sunshine in the sterile hospital room.
“Christopher,” I rasp, trying to focus through the haze of pain and confusion. “What day is it?”
“Tuesday,” she replies, checking the fluids in my IV with practiced ease.
“Tuesday...” I mutter, trying to wrap my head around the passage of time.
“You've been unconscious for sixty-three days, Mr. Bonetti.”
“Sixty... what?” I try to sit up, but my head spins, and I'm forced to sink back onto the bed, defeated.
“Please take it easy.” Ava's arms gently hold me back. “Is there anyone we should call for you?”
The question catches me off guard, and before I can stop myself, I blurt out, “Who came to visit me?”
Ava looks momentarily lost, and then it dawns on me that she doesn't know the answer. “I know of a lady who comes here on a daily basis.”
“Leila...” I whisper, my heart aching with longing.
“Hmm, I think it was like a flower... Vi...” Ava replies, her tone uncertain, before she moves away as the door opens.
“My maid”. The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. Viola is the only one who's come to visit me. No friends, no family, just her. And each time the door opens, my heart leaps with hope, only to plummet into the depths of despair when I see nurses and doctors coming to check on me.
Cosa ti aspettavi? Che Nicholas fosse andato da Leila per dirle di averti messo ko? What were you hoping for? That Nick would go to Leila to tell her he knocked you out?
I clench my fists realizing I’m on my own.
Every day feelslike a relentless battle against pain and exhaustion as I push myself through grueling sessions of rehab. But despite the progress I've made, there's still a lingering sense of unease that gnaws at my insides, a feeling of uncertainty that refuses to be silenced.
As I struggle through another round of exercises, I catch sight of Viola, who's been taking care of me during my time in the hospital. She moves with a grace and efficiency that belies the chaos of my thoughts. Summoning every ounce of strength, I manage to croak out her name.
“Viola,” I call out, my voice barely above a whisper. “Can you... can you tell me what happened?”
Her expression softens as she approaches me, her eyes filled with sympathy. “Oh, Chris,” she gently squeezes my hand, “I don’t know much. Rumor has it Nicholas enjoyed the cage way more than he should. Someone says he brags to have knocked you out because of his woman, but honestly I don’t know more than that.”
My heart sinks at her words, the weight of lost time pressing down on me like a heavy burden. “His woman...” I murmur, trying to comprehend the enormity of it all. Cazzo, no!Fuck no!“Bastardo, pezzo di merda!”The bastard piece of shit.I move on again, taking another step forward, pushing myself over my limit. I need to get out of here and fast. “Do you happen to have my cell phone?” I ask, a glimmer of hope flickering within me. “Or do you know where it is?”
Viola nods, her concern evident in the furrow of her brow. “I brought it here.” She hands me the phone from her bag. “ButI'm afraid there's been no activity on it since... well, since you've been unconscious.”
How is it possible?
