Damien
Iwake up not knowing where I am. It takes me a few minutes to realize I’m in a hospital. I try to sit up and realize it’s a terrible idea as pain washes over me.
A nurse bustles in almost immediately. “Ah, good, you’re awake,” she says. “How do you feel?”
“Like an elephant sat on me.”
She chuckles. “That might have caused less damage. You broke your leg, your wrist, a couple of ribs, and you punctured your lungs. We’re monitoring you for a concussion.”
I blink. “It doesn’t hurt.”
“You’re pumped full of painkillers,” she says. “Trust me, you’re not going to enjoy it when they wear off.” She opens a bottle of water, puts a straw in it, and holds it to my lips. “Drink.”
Ugh. I hate being sick. I take a sip and make a face. “It tastes weird.”
“Those are the drugs in your system. Now, do you feel up to visitors? Your family is in the waiting room.”
Sophia? My heart leaps, and then reality sets in. No, she wouldn’t be here. But if I were in a crash and they called Julian, he would have let my mom and my siblings know.
“Yeah, sure.”
My mother is a beautiful woman,always impeccably dressed, never a hair out of place. Not today. Her face is white with worry. “Damien,” she exclaims, hurrying over to my side. She bends down and kisses my cheek, her eyes swimming with tears. “I thought you died.”
“Still here,” I tell her with a smile. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily. How long have I been out?”
“It’s Monday afternoon,” she replies.
Ouch. The last thing I remember is driving to La Vecchia. That was Sunday evening. No wonder she’s freaking out. She worries over me, and I promise her I’m going to be alright.
Then it’s Cristiano and Victoria, both looking pale and anxious. “I’m fine,” I tell them bracingly. “I’ll be up and about in no time. Going to run a marathon in December.”
Cristiano makes himself smile. “The painkillers have made you delusional, I see,” he says. “Are you up for more visitors?”
“Sure.”
I’m expecting Tomas, but it’s not my stepfather who steps into the room. It’s Julian, and a half-step behind him is Sophia.
I can’t quite believe it.
She comes over to me. “Hey,” she whispers. “You gave us a scare.” She laces her fingers in mine. The unbroken hand, that is. The other one is in a cast.
She’s here. She’s holding my hand. If this is a dream, I don’t want to wake up.
“Sorry. Didn’t mean to.”
Her eyes fill with tears. “Don’t apologize. I should be—”
I want to talk to her; I really do. But the room swims around me, and I need to close my eyes. The nurse can see that. “Everyone out,” she says firmly. “He needs rest.”
There’s just one thing I need to know before I can fall asleep. I make my eyes focus on Sophia. “When I wake up,” I whisper. “Will you be here?”
“I promise.”
A wave of relief washes over me. “Good.” Then I close my eyes and let darkness claim me.
A week later,I finally have a long-overdue heart-to-heart with my mother. “When you told me you were quitting, I was angry,” she says softly. “You told me I was wrong, and nobody enjoys hearing that. Me more than most.”
“Mm-hmm.”