“Okay. They’re almost there.”
I fall silent, reassuring her every couple of minutes that I’m still there until the ambulance arrives. I do my best to stay out of the way, but I bare my teeth when they suggest I find another means to get to the emergency room. It feels like forever, but it’s only a ten-minute ride. Then I’m rushing alongside the gurney,my hand wrapped around Alejandro’s. His grip isn’t what it should be, but it’s not as weak as I feared.
“Mrs.—?”
“Trevisan.”
The nurse’s brow furrows as she stares at me before glancing over her shoulder.
“You told the paramedics that the patient’s name is Alejandro Diaz and that you’re his wife. Your name doesn’t match.”
“Not everyone is from a Puritanical country that subjugates women and identifies them by the men who own them. I’m Italian, and my husband’s Colombian. Women don’t change their last names. Now tell me what the hell is going to happen to my husband.”
I word vomit my annoyance. It’s none of her fucking business why my name doesn’t match, but my righteous indignation is a successful distraction.
“My apologies. The nature of your husband’s injuries means a doctor will see him shortly. In the meantime, if you can follow me to registration, you can check him in with his insurance information.”
Only in America do hospitals care more about who’s paying the bill than how badly the patient needs care. There’s no way Alejandro will move back to Italy with me, so that means me permanently moving to the States. This is one of those things I’m forced to accept, even if it goes against my European sensibilities. Thank God Alejandro’s independently wealthy, and his family is obscenely affluent. I don’t have to fear him suffering because I couldn’t pay.
The nurse walks away, and I’m glad to see the back of her. Before I turn to the man at the registration desk, I muster the water works. I force tears to my eyes, letting them spill down my cheeks. I cry hard enough that my nose runs. Only then do I facethe guy. I make sure my hand trembles as I pass the insurance card to him. If he asks questions I can’t answer, I can play up the distraught wife role.
It takes ten minutes before I’m done. A nurse ushers me back into an ER bay where they check my vitals because I started coughing from the smoke inhalation. They bring in pre-surgery wipes, so I scrub my hands, face, and neck to remove the soot from them. I’d prefer a shower, but it’s enough to make me presentable. They offered me a hospital gown when I got to the ER bay they assigned me, but I refused. I convinced—badgered—a young nursing assistant to find me a pair of scrubs. At least only my hair reeks of smoke. Everything checks out well enough for me to demand I go back to the waiting room rather than remain hooked up to machines that won’t shut the fuck up.
I’m left twiddling my thumbs for two hours before the cavalry arrives. It’s fucking impressive. Like, everyone in the ER waiting area freezes as Alejandro’s family arrives.
The men are—I don’t have the words for the pure animal magnetism they all exude. Matáis, Enrique, Luis,Tres J’s, and Pablo all stand well over six feet tall with sun-kissed brown skin. They’re all stacked with muscles upon muscles; their custom-tailored suits barely contain their raw power.
The women are beyond sophisticated with an air of complete control anywhere they look. Elodie is only slightly fairer than the other women, but her dark hair makes her blend in. Elodie, Catalina, Luciana, and Margherita sweep into the waiting area as though they dare anyone to stand in the way of their family. I notice three younger women who must be Javier’s and Pablo’s wives, and Jorge’s fiancée. The two blondes and one brunette aren’t quite as intimidating as the older women, but they’re intense.
Margherita and the woman who must be Madeline march to the nurses’ station and begin an animated conversation. Icatch snippets as the two midwives demand a full rundown of Alejandro’s diagnosis and care. The poor guys behind the desk stare wide-eyed at them before Margherita leans across the desk until her nose is practically up one of the nurse’s. The guy drops into his chair and rapidly types.
Catalina and Matáis approach me, and I struggle to rein in my emotions. I’m so fucking relieved they’re here, but guilt ravages me as I remember my family’s responsible. No—not my family, but one member and a clearly psycho ex-boyfriend. But any connection to me makes all of this so much worse.
“They won’t let me back there, but I’ve gotten updates. He’s sleeping right now. They gave him some powerful painkillers that knocked him out. The burns aren’t as bad as we initially feared, so they won’t transfer him to the burn unit. It was the heat more than the flames that caused his pain. He shielded me from the worst of it.”
“What happened?” Matáis’s voice is unnervingly quiet.
“My aunt.”
I stare down at the floor, shame igniting goosebumps all over my body. I inhale, then swallow before looking at the couple who—for a brief moment in time—were going to be my in-laws. I can’t imagine how they’d welcome me into the family now.
“What do you mean your aunt?”
Catalina’s biting tone makes me want to cringe. She doesn’t speak any louder than her husband, but I feel it in my marrow. I know they’d never make a scene somewhere so public, but the quieter they are, the more I fear their retribution.
“We didn’t figure out much, but it was my mother’s sister and an ex-boyfriend in the warehouse. It shocked my mother to discoverZiaCosima threatened me. Neither Alejandro nor I know if they handled the explosion or if that was someone else.”
“Your ex-boyfriend?”
“Yes. We haven’t been together since I was twenty-one, so nearly ten years ago. It shocked me to see him. Alejandro and I believe it was an unsanctioned attack. I don’t know whyZiaCosima or Zorzi would set off an explosion while they were in the building. I suspect someone either wanted them gone along with us, or they didn’t know my aunt and ex-boyfriend were there.”
Enrique steps forward, standing on the other side of Catalina from Matáis. Her husband’s arm is around her waist, and her older brother wraps his arm around her shoulders. A moment later, Luciana and Luis join us. They practically form a circle around me as they stand arm-in-arm. The four siblings bear a remarkable resemblance to one another, almost like two sets of twins. It’s a unified force standing opposed to me. I want to sink into the ground.
“Vittoria, we don’t blame you.”
It’s Luciana who speaks up. I want to believe her, but it’s a struggle since I blame myself.
“Could this be a jealous ex-boyfriend and an overprotective aunt?”
