Chapter 60: Don’t leave me alone

Ana
The pain was unbearable, each contraction stronger than the last. I clung to Luisa’s hand as if my life depended on it, feeling my entire body break and mend simultaneously. The operating room lights were blinding, and the noise of monitors, murmuring doctors, and clashing metal instruments kept me in a constant state of alert.
“Ana, take deep breaths. Focus on your breathing,” Luisa said, her face inches from mine, a mix of firmness and tenderness in her eyes.
I nodded, trying to follow her instructions. Sweat soaked my forehead, and my muscles were exhausted, but I couldn’t stop. This was the moment I had awaited, the moment I had feared. My child’s life depended on my strength, my ability to endure this unimaginable pain.
“Come on, Ana. You’re almost there. Just a little more,” one of the doctors approached, his voice calm yet urgent.
Another contraction hit, even more intense. My body arched, and I let out a muffled scream—the pain beyond what I could bear. Luisa squeezed my hand, conveying support and strength.
“You have to push, Ana. Now!” The doctor’s voice cut through the chaos around me.
Summoning every ounce of energy, I pushed with all my might. It felt as if my body was tearing apart, but I pressed on, driven by the desire to see my child, to ensure they were okay. The pain overwhelmed me, but I didn’t stop.
“Very good, Ana! Again!” The doctor’s voice became my anchor amid the whirlwind.
I pushed once more, feeling the baby move through me. Luisa watched, concern and love filling her face. Her eyes told me I was doing great, that we were close.
“Just a little more, Ana. It’s almost here.” The doctor’s words kept me standing.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, I felt release, sudden relief. The cries of a newborn filled the room, and I knew it was over. My child had been born. Tears welled in my eyes as I tried to catch a glimpse of my baby, but something wasn’t right. The doctor hurriedly took the baby away, and my heart sank.
“What’s happening? What’s wrong?” My voice was barely a whisper, drained from the effort
“There’s a slight complication, but we’re doing everything we can. We need to keep him under observation," the doctor tried to reassure me, but the concern in his expression was unmistakable.
“Do you see? Everything will be fine. They’re taking care of him,” Luisa attempted to console me, but the anguish in her voice was evident.
I longed to see my son, to hold him, to feel his tiny body in my arms, but I wasn’t allowed. I watched through the glass as he was surrounded by doctors and nurses, and my heart shattered. This wasn’t the beginning I had imagined for him, but I had to trust that everything would turn out well.
“You’re doing incredibly well, Ana. You’re so strong,” Luisa gently stroked my forehead, her words a comfort amidst my storm.
I lay back, exhausted, as the doctors worked on my son. I closed my eyes for a moment, trying to catch my breath, seeking the strength I needed to carry on. I thought of Paolo, how he would be by my side if he could, how he would also be worried and anxious. But I knew I had to be strong—for our son, for the future that awaited us.
“You have to be strong, Ana. For him and for yourself,” Luisa whispered, as if reading my thoughts.
The hours passed slowly. Each minute felt like an eternity as I waited for news, trying to keep hope alive. Finally, one of the doctors approached, his expression serious yet hopeful.
“Your son is stable, but we need to keep him under observation. It was a complicated delivery, but we’re doing everything we can to ensure he’s okay.”
Relief and fear mingled within me. My baby was alive, but not out of danger. Luisa squeezed my hand, unwavering in her support.
“Thank you. Please take good care of him. He’s all I have now,” my words were barely a whisper, but they carried determination.
“We will, Ana. We’re here to make sure he’s well,” the doctor nodded, compassion in his eyes.
I settled back, allowing the exhausting tension of childbirth to slowly fade. I knew the road ahead would be challenging, that I’d face many obstacles, but for now, I needed rest. I needed to gather strength for what lay ahead—to be the mother Paolo would have wanted me to be, to protect my son in this perilous world.
"Rest, Ana. The worst is behind you. Now, focus on recovering."
I nodded, watching as he walked down the hallway. The ensuing silence overwhelmed me. My thoughts swirled, filled with fears and worries. I closed my eyes, attempting to calm myself, but anxiety wouldn’t release its grip.
Suddenly, I heard movement at the door. I opened my eyes and saw Dante slipping in, as if he didn’t want to be noticed. His presence surprised me and yet also reassured me.
“Ana, how are you feeling?” he approached the bed, concern etching his expression.
“Dante… I’m… scared.” My voice was barely a whisper, the words coming out with difficulty.
He sat beside me, taking my hand in his. I felt his warmth and strength, and I clung to it.
“Ana, everything will be okay. Martin is guarding the hospital entrances. We have a whole team ready to face anyone. No one will harm you or your child.”
“But what if they come for him? What if I can’t protect him?” Tears streamed down my cheeks, fear and helplessness flooding my heart.
“I won’t allow that to happen. They’ll have to go through me first. I’ll do whatever it takes to protect both of you.”
I looked at Dante, seeing determination in his eyes. I knew his words were sincere, that he’d do everything possible to keep us safe. But the fear remained, unyielding.
“I can’t help feeling this way. Paolo—he would have known what to do.” My voice cracked as I mentioned Paolo’s name, the pain of his loss still fresh.
“Paolo loved you, and I know he’d be proud of you. Ana, you’re stronger than you realize. And you’re not alone in this. Martin and I are here to help you, to protect you. We won’t let anything harm you.”
I nodded, seeking solace in his words. Another mild contraction reminded me that my body was still recovering from childbirth. The exhaustion was overwhelming, yet fear persisted.
“You need to rest, Ana. Recover so you can be strong for your son. Trust us. We’ll take care of you.”
“Thank you, Dante. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”
“You don’t have to do this alone. We’re here with you, always.”
We sat in silence, the weight of our emotions filling the space between us. I felt the warmth of his hand in mine—an anchor amidst the chaos surrounding me.
“Can you stay a little longer?” My voice was barely a whisper, vulnerability evident in my words.
“Of course. I’m not going anywhere.”
Dante settled into the chair beside my bed, his comforting presence. I closed my eyes, allowing exhaustion to overtake me. I knew the road ahead would be difficult, but in that moment, I simply needed rest, to regain strength and prepare for the future that awaited us.
The sounds of monitors and the gentle hum of the hospital surrounded me as I drifted into restless sleep. Images of Paolo, of our child, of the lurking dangers in the darkness, blended in my dreams.
I woke several times during the night, pain and worry keeping me on edge. Each time I opened my eyes, Dante was there—watchful, never leaving me alone. His dedication and love were a beacon in the storm that enveloped me.
“Ana, do you need anything?” His soft voice pulled me from my thoughts.
“Just… don’t leave me alone.” My voice was a whisper, vulnerability laid bare.
"Never. I’ll always be here for you."