Page 31 of Enzo's Vow
I leaned closer, my voice dropping to a near whisper. “Sometimes,il regolamentoneeds… adjusting.” I allowed a hint of a smile to curve my lips, a smile promising both charm and something far more dangerous. “I’m sure you understand.Intendi?”
Her eyes flickered, a spark of fear igniting within their depths. She recognized the tone, the unspoken threat.
“Please.” Gemma’s shoulders slumped, her voice trembling. “My father, Gino Galo… he’s very sick. I just need to see him, just for a minute.” She wrung her hands, her eyes shimmering with unshed tears. “Per favore, signora.”
The nurse hesitated, glancing from Gemma’s tear-streaked face to my dangerous expression. “Room 304,” she finally relented, her voice a low murmur. “Third floor. But I no see you. And you no see me.”
Gemma dashed down the hall as soon as the nurse uttered the room number.
I bestowed a fake grin. “Grazie.”
She burst through the door when we reached her father’s room.
“Gemma?” Despite the wires strapped to his torso and the nasal cannula under his nose, Gino managed a weak smile. “You’re here.”
She clutched his hands with her trembling ones. “I’m here, Papa. How are you feeling?”
“Better now.” He cupped her cheek. “Molto meglio.”
“I’m sorry if I disturbed your sleep.” She gave him a bright smile, the complete opposite of the sadness she’d shown these past two weeks. “I wanted to come in here and sit by your bedside for a bit.”
Welling tears didn’t fall, nor did she display an overdramatized outburst, leaving her slumping into the chair. Instead, her bravery struck me. Posture straight, she remained composed as she took the armchair by his bedside. She put aside her own distress, all for the sake of not upsetting her father in his condition.
Gino waved a nonchalant hand. “I already had a long nap.Allora, it’s not easy to sleep with all these cords around me.”
“What happened?” She kissed his knuckles and held his fingers to her cheek, careful with the pulse oximeter.
He rubbed at his hospital-gown concealed chest. “I suffered chest pain, and Anita called an ambulance.” He patted her hand. “I may have missed a pill or two with all the stress.”
Gemma acknowledged me from her peripheral, her father followed her gaze to me in the corner. Gino visibly swallowed. “What’s he doing here?”
She rubbed his hand, a comforting gesture. “Carina refused to let me see you, but Enzo… he brought me here to you, Papa.”
Gino blinked at the revelation. “Thank you for bringing her.”
My shoulders slumped. Wail or seethe over what I’d done, sure, but undeserved gratitude? I nodded, too rattled to mutter a simple ‘no problemo.’
She did a better job than those who worked here, fussing over her father, laying another blanket over him, pouring him a drink of water. “You have to take better care, Papa. I understand you’re worried, but no one’s harmed me.”
No, not directly. But she harmed herself by her refusal to eat, she harmed herself when she brandished a gun to her own head. She harmed herself when she aggravated a gun-wielding Carina. But she’d lie to her father for his own good. I blinked. We shared one trait in common; our parent’s best interests. We both put their needs before our own.
A doctor passed the door. I leaned out further. Aside from the nurses and doctors in their pale scrubs, the hallway remained empty.
“They’ll keep me here another week. Will I see you again,mia figlia?”Hope radiated in his voice.
She pinned me with a stark look, the same hope her father portrayed. Her pleading eyes shattered my soul. I’d hand her the entire world without reluctance if she’d asked. I cleared the sudden tightness in my throat. “You will, Gino.” Regardless of how the news would no doubt vex my mother, or how these meet-ups endangered both father and daughter, I’d not prohibit her from seeing the man.
Half an hour later, she wished Gino goodnight, and we shut the door to his hospital room.
Gemma lunged into my arms, her embrace fierce and uncontrolled, her body trembling against mine. The scent of her hair, a subtle mix of frangipani and something uniquely her, filled my senses. Her heart hammered a frantic rhythm against my chest. No one ever hugged me with such raw desperation in all my life.
She inched back, rigid in my hands. “Thank you.” Her bright smile faded as though aware of whose embrace she threw herself into.
Once again ruled by an uncontrollable drive, I ran my index finger down her sharp, smooth cheekbone. Her supple lips parted, and her eyes widened, locking onto mine. The world around us faded.
A nanosecond later, her head whipped sideways, gaze no longer hooded but now gaping down the hallway. “We should go,” she whispered, her body twitching to break free.
Sobered from the hypnotic trance, I retreated a step. “Yeah, we should.” I claimed her hand and strode through the hospital hallway.
