Page 102 of Enzo
Armani was ready to continue arguing, but a page came through the speakers calling him, and the doctor turned on his heel and left.
Mama finally spoke, her voice shaky. “The doctor is right. Luca and I will be back to stay with Amara through the night. Then, starting tomorrow, we take turns.”
“I don’t get it,” Papà muttered. “None of this makes sense.”
I agreed. This couldn’t be right. Which was why I intended to sit my parents down and talk about it. Maybe during dinner tonight. We should have every doctor on this planet evaluate Amara.
Because I simply couldn’t wrap my mind around this bullshit prognosis. It should never have come to this. A few fuckingweeks? No way, no how.
My gaze flickered to the hospital room that had become my sister’s prison these past few days.
With my family still lingering in the hallway, I stepped inside the low-lit space.
The steady beeping of the monitor was the only constant sound. The sterile walls were painted with a smiling sun mural, with flowers of all kinds sprouting up from the dull linoleum floor all the way to the paneled ceiling. Since she couldn’t havethe real ones, my husband and brothers had done the next best thing: they painted them on the walls. The hospital wasn’t initially happy about it, but it made Amara smile and that was all that mattered.
As did the generous donation Enzo had placated them with.
My eyes fell to my sleeping sister, lying still in the metal bed, tubes and machines crowding around her. I took a seat on one side of the bed, watching as she opened her eyes.
“You’re not going to hold…” She breathed heavily, then raised her hand.
I smiled softly and reached for it, then held it tightly in mine. With my other hand, I reached over and stroked her head.
“I wish you’d get rid of the hat,” I murmured. “I want to touch you, notthat.”
She shrugged limply, letting the silence dominate. I roamed over her pale face and drawn eyes. She looked weaker than she’d ever been. There had to besomethingwe could do.
“Can I ask you a favor?”
“Yes, of course. Anything.”
“Hold on to Enzo.” I let out a broken laugh, tears gathering in my eyes. “He’s a keeper.”
I squeezed her hand gently. “I agree.”
“Promise me, no matter what he… does, you won’t let him go.”
My brow furrowed, not following her meaning, but I agreed nonetheless. “I promise.”
She smiled, then immediately winced. “He’s trying so hard.” I nodded slowly. “He loves you. And I love you.”
I dropped my head to her blanket-covered lap. “I love you more.”
Her breaths came in and out slowly. “I just want to rest now. Okay?”
I swallowed and sat upright, doing my best to pack up my emotions. I needed to be strong for her.
“Yes, rest. We’ll be here when you wake up.” She exhaled slowly before her eyes fluttered shut. “Good night, Amara.”
It was six p.m. when we entered the restaurant.
Nobody wanted to go home, and since everyone was sick and tired of the bad cafeteria food, Enzo called ahead and booked out the restaurant closest to the hospital.
My family was seated around the table set for seven, but there were only six of us. Amara’s spot was empty, her absence a painful reminder.
An ambulance siren whined in the distance, but nobody reacted to it. After so much time spent in the hospital, it’d become a familiar noise.
The atmosphere was sullen, the food in front of us sat mostly untouched. Despair hung heavy in the air, with only the occasional soft clink of cutlery breaking through.
