Page 173 of The One
“Even with ECMO, we’re talking days. Maybe a few, if we’re lucky.”
Chapter Sixty-Six
Mariella
Today was supposed to be the happiest day of our lives. And it started that way, hidden away in Tuscany. We woke up excited to get ready for our wedding. That seems like a lifetime ago.
How did everything turn into a nightmare so fast?
Instead of basking in newlywed bliss, we stand outside the ICU, separated from Don De Marco by a glass window. It’s surreal that the most powerful man in Sicily, maybe even all of Italy, lying in that hospital bed, is going to be my brother-in-law. If he survives.
At Mateo’s insistence, a doctor remains with Gualtiero at all times. One is inside now, checking his vitals and murmuring to a nurse.
I glance up at Mateo, his gaze fixed on his brother. He wants to be in there, by his side, but until Gualtiero is stable, they won’t let him.
Our Don is so still, so pale. Tubes run in and out of his body, and the machines keeping him alive beep in steady, hollow rhythms. My stomach twists, but there’s nothing either of us can do but wait.
Teo’s jaw is tight, tension radiating off him. I squeeze his hand in silent support, but his grip is rigid.
“I should be in there with him. I should be doing something more.” His voice is rough, like he hasn’t used it in weeks.
I press my palm against his chest, the strong beat of his heart beneath my hand.
“You’re doing everything you can. You’ve got Uberto searching for a donor lung, and if anyone can find the impossible, it’s him.” I fight to keep the desperation from my voice, but it creeps in anyway.
I hate seeing Mateo like this. So torn, so desperate to fix something beyond his control.
“And you’re here. That’s what matters most.”
His exhale is uneven, his eyes burning with a silent scream I can’t touch.
He pulls me closer, his forehead resting against mine. Fingers thread through my hair to ground himself.
“I can’t lose him,” he whispers. “He’s all the family I have left, Mari.”
The quiet vulnerability in his voice fractures something inside me. I wish I could promise he won’t lose his brother, but I can’t.
There are too many factors, too many unknowns. Worst of all, none of us know if Gualtiero even has the will to pull through after leaving Ella behind, especially when the reasons remain unknown.
“Your brother is a fighter. Just like you.” I search for words that are true. I won’t lie to Mateo. I couldn’t.
“He just needs to wake up,” he murmurs, his voice barely audible as he pulls back to meet my eyes.
Forcing a small smile, I reach up to brush the hair from his forehead. “I wish I could wave a magic wand and fix everything.”
Mateo chuckles, but it’s a hollow sound, empty and void of warmth. His smile doesn’t reach his eyes. “I’m scared, Mari.”
I cup his cheek, my thumb grazing over his skin. Tilting his face toward mine, I gently force him to really look at me.
“I know you are. But whatever happens, you don’t have to face this alone. I’m right here, by your side.”
His throat bobs with a hard swallow, his jaw tightening like he’s fighting back tears. I’ve never seen him cry. Mateo is always in control, never faltering. The most he’s come undone was when he saw the small wounds on my body after we were attacked. Other than that? Never.
“Thank you,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my forehead. “For being here. For being with me.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Teo. Not now. Not ever.”
And as I say the words, I believe them with everything I have. I’ll be here, helping him hold it together, for as long as it takes.
