"Let's take a look at the baby," she says, squirting gel onto Giulia's stomach. The screen flickers to life, and I hold my breath.Please. Please let the baby be okay. Please let them both be okay.
The doctor moves the wand, searching, and the seconds stretch into eternity. And then?—
The heartbeat fills the room, rapid and strong.
"There we go," Dr. Martinez says with a smile. "Baby looks good. Heartbeat is strong. No signs of distress."
The relief is so intense it nearly brings me to my knees.
"The bleeding?" Giulia asks, her voice shaking.
"Likely just some spotting, which can be normal in the second trimester. But to be safe, I want to keep you under observation for a few hours. Make sure the bleeding stops and there are no other complications."
"But the baby's okay?"
"The baby's fine." Dr. Martinez removes the wand and wipes off the gel. "Try to rest. We'll check on you in a couple of hours."
She leaves, and suddenly Giulia and I are alone. She's crying, and I don't know what to do or how to comfort her. I definitely don't know how to explain the terror that just ripped through me at the thought of losing her.
"Giulia—"
"You can go." She turns away from me. "I'm fine. The baby's fine. You don't have to stay."
"I'm not leaving."
"Why not?" She finally looks at me, and the emptiness in her eyes is worse than the hurt. "You've made it clear you don't want to be here. That this is all just an obligation. So go. Do your job. I'll be fine on my own."
"I'm not leaving," I repeat, more firmly this time.
"Luca—"
"I'm not fucking leaving, Giulia." The words come out harsher than I intended, but I can't seem to control my voice. "So stop asking me to."
She stares at me for a long moment, and I can see her trying to understand, to reconcile my words with my actions. Trying to make sense of a man who claims not to care but looks like his world just almost ended. Finally, she turns away, closing her eyes.
"Fine," she whispers. "Stay."
So I do. I pull a chair up beside her bed and sit down, and I don't leave. Not when the nurses come to check on her or when they bring her water and crackers, and not when the hours stretch into early morning and she finally falls into an exhausted sleep. I sit there and watch her breathe, and I try not to think about how close I came to losing her. Try not to think about what that means.
Try not to admit—even to myself—that maybe I'm not as indifferent as I've been pretending to be.
23
GIULIA
The hospital room is too bright and too cold, and I can't stop shaking. The only thing keeping me from completely falling apart is the sight of Luca sitting by my bed. I watch him from the hospital bed, my hands pressed protectively over my stomach, and I don't know what to think.
He told me he doesn't love me, that loving me would be stupid. That this marriage is just an obligation and nothing more. But he drove like a maniac to get me here and carried me through the emergency room doors. He refused to leave when I told him to go.
A nurse comes in to check my vitals. "How are you feeling?" she asks, wrapping the blood pressure cuff around my arm.
"Scared." The word comes out before I can stop it.
"That's completely normal." She gives me a reassuring smile. "Dr. Martinez will be back soon with the test results. Try to rest."
She leaves, and Luca immediately looks at me. "Do you need anything?" His voice is rough and strained. "Water? Another blanket? I can?—"
"I'm fine." I pull the thin hospital blanket higher, even though I'm not cold anymore. "You don't have to?—"
