“He’s not our father,” Adora says. “I know you’re afraid he might be. But he’s not. He never was.”
Before I can respond, the door opens.
A nurse enters, and behind her, two orderlies wheeling a bed.
Cristiano.
I’m on my feet before I realize I’ve moved. He’s pale against the white sheets, his face drawn, tubes and wires trailing from his body. A monitor beeps steadily beside him.
“The surgery went well,” the nurse says, helping the orderlies position the bed. “He’ll be in and out of consciousness for the next several hours. The anesthesia takes time to wear off.”
I barely hear her. I’m at his side, reaching for his hand, needing to touch him and prove he’s real. He’s alive. He came back to me.
His fingers are cold. I wrap both my hands around them, trying to share my warmth.
“Cristiano,” I whisper. “Can you hear me?”
His eyelids flutter. His lips move, forming shapes that don’t quite become words.
“He may be confused when he wakes,” the nurse says. “That’s normal. Don’t be alarmed if he doesn’t make sense.”
She finishes checking his monitors and leaves. Mom and Adora hang back, giving me space.
I pull a chair close to his bed and sit, still holding his hand. His chest rises and falls steadily. Minutes pass. Maybe ten, maybe twenty. Time has lost all meaning.
Then his hand tightens on mine.
“Mina.” His voice is a rasp, barely audible.
“I’m here.” I lean closer. “I’m right here.”
His eyes open, just unfocused slits, his pupils wide and dulling the amber. But he finds my face and locks on to it like I’m the only thing in the world.
“Did I save our son?”
My heart turns over. He’s barely conscious, pumped full of morphine, and his first thought is Leon.
“You’ve been incredible,” I tell him. “They said the surgery went perfectly. They have part of your liver. They’re putting it in Leon right now.”
“Good.” His eyes drift closed, then snap open again, suddenly urgent. “Don’t go, Mina.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
“I won’t let anything happen to Leon.” His words are slurring, running together. “I promised. You can’t—”
He’s trying to sit up. Actually trying tosit up, though his body barely responds. The monitor beside him beeps faster.
“Cristiano, stop! You need to stay still.”
“If something happens—” He’s gripping my hand so hard it hurts. “If something happens, you can’t— Mina, you said— This morning you said—”
What I said this morning must have been haunting him while he was under.
I wish they’d put me to sleep as well, and if anything happens to Leon, then they could just not wake me up.
He’s afraid I’ll hurt myself if Leon doesn’t make it. Even drugged and barely conscious, he’s terrified.
“Leon is going to be fine,” I say firmly. “You’re saving him, and I’m not going anywhere. Not away from you, not away from Leon, not anywhere. Do you understand?”
