The image of Savannah, scared and in pain, makes something break inside my chest. "Tell her I'm coming. Tell her I love her. Tell her—" I stop, because there are no words for what I'm feeling. No way to express the terror, the desperate need to be there.
"I'll tell her," Giulia says softly. "Just drive carefully, Romeo. She needs you alive."
The call ends, and I'm alone with the sound of the engine and the terror clawing at my throat. I can’t drive carefully. I have to get to her.
This is my fault.
The thought circles through my mind. All the stress I've caused her. The constant fear, the violence, the uncertainty. I did this.
I put her in that safe house, isolated her from everything she knew, while I tried to protect her and our baby. The baby I didn't even ask if she wanted. The baby that exists because I was so obsessed with binding her to me that I didn't care about her choice.
And now we might be losing it.
The thought makes my vision blur, and I realize I'm crying, as I drive through the darkness at a hundred and ten miles per hour. I can't lose them. I can't lose her.
She's the only thing that makes me feel human. The only thing that makes me want to be better than what I was raised to be. Without her, I'm just cold and empty and dead inside. I need her. I need our baby. I need the life we could have together.
Nothing is going to stop me from getting to her.
The hospital exit finally appears, and I take it so fast the tires scream. I screech into the parking lot and abandon the car in a no-parking zone. I don't care. Let them tow it. Let them ticket it. None of it matters.
I jump out of the car and run.
I run past the reception desk, where a startled nurse calls after me, and down hallways that all look the same. I'm looking for signs, for directions, for someone who can tell me where Savannah is.
"Sir, you can't?—"
"Where's the ER?" I don't stop moving. "Savannah Beauregard. She was brought in?—"
"Sir, you need to check in at?—"
"WHERE IS SHE?" I'm shouting now, and I can see people stopping, staring, but I don't care. "Savannah Beauregard. Where the fuck is she?"
A doctor appears—a woman in scrubs with kind eyes and a calm voice. "Mr. Ciresa?"
"Yes. Where is she? Is she?—"
"She's being examined right now. We're doing an ultrasound to assess the situation." She's already walking, and I follow her through a maze of corridors. "How far along is she?"
"Six weeks. Maybe seven. I don't—we just found out recently."
"And this is her first pregnancy?"
"Yes."
"Any cramping or bleeding before tonight?"
"Not that I know of." The admission makes me feel sick. I should know. I should have been there, should have been paying attention instead of playing war games with her father.
The doctor leads me to a waiting area—sterile and empty except for Giulia, who stands up the moment she sees me. Her face is pale, her eyes red from crying.
"Romeo—"
I pull her into a hug, and she holds on tight. "What did they say? Is she?—"
"They're still examining her?—"
"She's okay? The baby's okay?"
