CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

 

Jules

 

LOUD VOICES KNOCK around in my head and it makes the pain in my temple worse. I try to lift my hand to rub the achy spot, but my arm feels too heavy to lift. I frown when I realize my neck feels stiff and something is covering my face. I don’t like it and want it gone. I squint my eyes open and the light doesn’t help the pain in my head. A whimper leaves my lips, but I force my eyes to stay open. Everything is blurry, and I try to focus. I need to find Luca. I need to tell him something. It’s important. Too important to wait.

I open my mouth to ask for him then realize I have a mask over my face. My body screams at me when I lift my arm to remove it, but damn it, I need Luca. A hand tries to stop me, but I’m too quick.

“Luca….” My voice sounds scratchy and frail, so I clear my throat and try again. “I need Luca.”

“It’s okay, miss,” a calm voice says right before a face appears over mine. “The paramedics just brought you into the emergency room. As soon as we assess your injuries, we’ll contact whoever you need us to.”

“No!” I’m shocked at how strong my voice comes out. “I need to see Luca now!”

Panic has me trying to sit up in bed. They don’t understand. I need to get to him. He has to know the truth.

The nurse tries to push me back down. “Please ma’am, let us make sure you’re okay fir—”

“Luca!” I scream and start thrashing on the bed. “Luca!”

My head pounds an uneven beat, but I ignore the pain and attempt to climb from the bed. More hands appear beside the nurse’s as they wrestle me back down.

“Ma’am,” a male voice calls. “If you don’t settle down, we’ll have to give you a sedative.”

It doesn’t matter, because my strength is depleted, and my head is turning fuzzy again. Once I’m forced back down on the bed, I look pleadingly at the female nurse. “Please.” My voice breaks.

She looks down at me with sympathy and pushes a swath of hair out of my face. “I’m sorry, sweetie. Let the doctors check you over, and I promise I’ll find this Luca for you.”

My nose burns and tears creep behind my eyes. I know I’m being irrational. I can talk to Luca once the doctors are done, but I don’t want to wait. He needs to know now. He deserves to know right now.

My eyelids feel like there’re weights hanging from them. Too heavy for me to keep them open anymore. It’s not a natural tiredness, and I know they must have shot something in the IV in my hand. A warm sensation starts in my chest and works its way through the rest of my body. My eyes drop closed, but slowly blink open again when I hear my name shouted. It’s muffled and sounds like it’s coming through a long tunnel. My head falls to the side and through my cloudy vision, I see Luca. Three security guards have him pinned to the wall across the hall from the room I’m in. His chest is rising and falling crazy fast. I frown, confused why he’s fighting them. His eyes are on mine, and the tortured look in them hollows my stomach. I try to lift my arm to reach for him, but it’s too heavy. I call his name, but the mask is back on my face and muffles the weak cry.

My eyes fall closed, and this time, don’t open again.

 

 

AN IRRITATING BUZZING sound wakes me. I keep my eyes closed for a moment when a sharp pain crawls across my forehead. Once it’s manageable, I crack open my eyes. Thankfully, the lights are low. I blink several times until my vision clears. Gingerly, I look around the room, realizing the sterile walls, the TV mounted across from me, and the uncomfortable bed I’m in mean I’m in the hospital. I close my eyes, trying to recall why I’m here, and it only takes me seconds to remember going to Theo’s, finding the box, him appearing, and my rush of memories.

My eyes snap open, and I frantically look around the room. A wave of pain and dizziness hits me at the sudden movement, and I clutch my head, my eyes closing of their own accord.

“Take it easy, baby,” a deep voice croons. Warmth wraps around my hand as it’s clutched in a tight grip.

“Luca.” I whisper his name. His voice soothes only part of the turmoil running through me.

“I’m here.”

I open my eyes and they land directly on him as he hovers over me, his brows pulled down into a concerned frown. I roll toward him, needing him closer to me. A sob escapes my tight throat. He lowers the bedside rail and climbs on the bed with me. He’s on his side facing me, one of his arms lying over my waist, his face only inches from mine. He’s still not close enough. I proceed to climb on top of him, but my stupid IV line is making it difficult. I growl in frustration and try yanking the line.

“Hey, hey,” he calls, halting my movements by sitting up and grabbing the hand that has the IV. I stop, and another pathetic sob breaks free. He does something to the bed that lifts the back part up, then messes with the IV line until it’s untangled around my arm. He gently lifts me onto his lap and scoots to the center of the bed. “Better?”

I nod against his chest, draw my knees up, and wrap my arm around him until it’s tucked between his back and the bed. I don’t know why I’m being so clingy. I just need him as close as I can get him.

My head rests against his chest, and I hear the hard beat of his heart. Tears slip down my cheeks, soaking his shirt. I briefly notice the shirt is scratchy and open my eyes to see it’s a light blue scrub shirt. I close my eyes again and breathe in his familiar scent. His hand rubs up and down my back, murmuring soft words in my ear, and I use his voice and soothing touch to calm the rampage of emotions running through me.

After several minutes, I lift my head, and it’s only then I notice the haggard look on his face. His eyes are haunted and the pain etching his face steals my breath and causes an unbearable pain to my chest.

“I’m sorry,” I croak.

He leans forward and places a soft kiss to my forehead. “You use those words a lot when you don’t need to.” His eyes run over my face, worry lining in his features. “What in the hell are you apologizing for?”

“For being stupid. For going to Theo’s without you.”

His jaw clenches, but his hand is gentle when he reaches up and smooths a finger over my cheek. I close my eyes and snuggle into his touch. “Not stupid,” he says softly. “Reckless.”

I swallow thickly and open my eyes.

“How are you feeling?”

I reach up and run my fingers over my temple. “My head hurts.” My fingers move to the bandage on my cheek before dropping to his chest. I don’t tell him about the aches in the rest of my body, worried he’ll get up.

“The doctor says the bruising on your head isn’t anything serious. You’ll have a headache for a while, but it’ll fade.” The muscles in his neck strain and his eyes turn hard. “No major injuries, just sore muscles and a few other bruises.” He pauses and pulls in a ragged breath. “You scared the shit out of me, Jules,” he rumbles throatily.

My eyes run over his features again. I did scare him. It’s written all over his face, and I hate the pained look in his eyes and the tenseness in his body. He says I wasn’t stupid, but I disagree. I should have known better. I never should have gone there on my own.

“I remember everything.” I swallow. “Everything, Luca. I remember what led to my coma. It wasn’t you. It was Theo. He came to the house and attacked me. He was the one who raped me.” Luca tenses, pure rage flashing in his eyes. I press deeper into him. “And… I’m not married to him.” My voice cracks. Before I can continue, Luca does it for me.

“You’re married to me.”

A flash of a memory of sitting on Luca’s lap on the couch and telling him we’re married before I blacked out comes to mind. I swallow and nod.

“I remember too,” he whispers.

More tears gather in my eyes and plunge down my cheeks. “You do?”

The smile he gives me lifts my spirits better than anything ever could. To know that he remembers as well makes me incredibly happy. It makes it more real, when before it was almost too good to be true.

The good feeling doesn’t last long though when I remember something else. Something that he couldn’t possibly know.

My head is starting to pound harder from holding my head up, so I climb from his lap, but still stick close to him. When he gets up from the bed, I reach for his hand. “No!” I pull in a breath, trying to rein in my panic at the thought of him leaving, and lower my voice. “Please stay.”

His understanding eyes meet mine, but he doesn’t get back on the bed. Instead, he hooks a chair with his foot and drags it closer until it’s right beside the bed before taking a seat.

“I’m not going anywhere, except right here, but you need more room.”

I don’t like it. I really really don’t like it, but as long as I still have a link to him through our hands, I’ll manage. After being with him for such a short time seven years ago, the strong instant connection we shared, the feeling of rightness, of belonging, then having it snatched away, both by Theo’s actions and Luca’s and my memory loss, the thought of not touching him scares me. No, it terrifies me. We just found each other again, and I’m so damn scared it’s all a dream, and I’ll wake and it’ll be gone.

I nod reluctantly but tighten my grip on his hand. He’s so close to the bed that his hard chest is pressed to the edge, as if he knows I’m on the edge of hysterics and keeping himself as close to me as he can. His arms lie along my side and hip, and I curl my knees up until they touch his ribs. Some of the anxiety subsides when he lifts my hand, kisses the back, and rests both of ours against his heart. The action makes it easier to get out what I say next.

“There’s something else I need to tell you. The day Theo came to the house….” I stop and pull in a painful breath at the reminder. “I was going to tell you when you came and got me.” I hold his eyes, my pain no doubt showing through. “I was pregnant.”

His body jerks and his eyes close. Agony mars his features and it makes my own heartache double. The day I found out I was pregnant, that very same day, was the best one of my life, with the day we got married a very close second. We had talked about having children, had planned to wait until after I graduated college and we moved back here, but I have no doubt he would have been just as deliriously happy as I was. We were that much in love.

I couldn’t wait to tell him and see the happiness in his eyes. That moment was stolen from us. Stolen in the most brutal of ways. I’ve never wished for someone to die before, and it may make me a bad person for wishing it now, but I do. I wish Theo to the deepest, darkest bowels of hell.

“I’m so sorry, Jules. I’m so goddamn sorry,” he says hoarsely. “If I had—”

“Don’t,” I cry. “Please don’t.” He opens his eyes. I shake my head and move our linked hands from his heart to place them over mine. “You had no way of knowing. Don’t you dare take the blame for something he did.”

He nods, but I still see he’s fighting the guilt. It makes me so angry that Theo has taken so much from us. So much time and caused us so much heartache.

Luca leans back from the bed to pull something from his back pocket. He sets it down beside our joined hands. Immense pain settles in my chest and my hand flies to my mouth to smother my gasp when I look down at the sonogram. My eyes sail to his and see his pain mirroring mine. My hand shakes as I pick up the image. I got it the day I found out I was pregnant. I was only a few weeks along, so they had to do an internal sonogram. The picture only shows a small blip of something, but it’s still the very first image of our baby, so I cherished it. So much happened that day. We were both given so much, only for it to be ripped away.

“I was so excited to show you this,” I say chokily. “Wh-where did you find it?”

“Kale. He found it with the papers on the bedroom floor at Theo’s. He thought I might want it, so he brought to me.”

“This was our baby.” I desperately wipe away the tear that falls on the delicate paper. I bring it to my lips and kiss right on the spot where the little bean rests.

I take a moment to gather myself before looking back at him. Anxiety, fear, and hope give me the jitters.

“I want to have my doctor look over my medical records.”

His lifts his brows and says slowly, “Okay….” Feeling the tremble in my hand, he tightens his fingers around mine. “Go on. What are you thinking?”

I lick my lips and forge ahead.

“Aria’s.” Her name quietly leaving my lips is all I say.

This time, his brows drop into a frown. I know he recognizes my implication immediately, but he needs confirmation. This is huge. Something that has the potential to completely rock a little girl’s life, not to mention Luca’s and mine. Although I loathe the thought of Aria going through that pain of being lied to and losing the only parent she’s ever known, I can’t help but secretly hope she’s our baby. The alternative would mean she’s gone, and that’s too painful to even contemplate. It would also fill the devastating ache in my stomach that’s formed since coming to my suspicion.

“You really think she could be ours? How is that possible? You were in a coma.”

“Women can still have a baby while in a coma. It would just be by C-section.” I lift my hospital gown and show him the scar on my lower stomach. “When I asked Theo where this scar came from, he said I got it from a shard of glass when you attacked me. I always had this feeling he was lying though.” I close my eyes for a minute and breathe deeply. Feeling Luca’s finger softly run across the scar has my eyes opening again. “I also noticed something. I didn’t realize it at the time because it never crossed my mind Aria could be ours, but she has a couple of traits my sister has. Like detached ears.” At his confused look, I explain. “It’s where the bottom of the earlobe isn’t attached to the head. It sort of hangs free. Aria also has shoulder dimples, which are rare and hereditary. Teresa has them.”

I give Luca a few minutes to process what I said. Several different emotions pass over his face as he takes in my words.

“She has a birthmark on the back of her right knee,” he mumbles. I’m not sure if he’s talking to himself or telling me. “It mirrors the one on my upper arm.”

His pulls his shirt sleeve up and reveals a cluster of freckles in the shape of the letter w.

“Motherfuckin’ hell,” he mutters, his mood darkening the more he thinks about the possibility. His eyes swing to mine. “Aria could be ours,” he says in wonder.

His body starts to vibrate. I can feel the tremors in his hand. His face fills with color and his jaw tics. When his nostrils flare with his heavy breathing, I know he’s working hard at controlling the anger filling his insides. I don’t blame him. I’m just as angry.

It takes several moments, but I watch as the fury slowly seeps from his body. His muscles relax fraction by fraction and the deadly look in his eyes lessens.

His forehead drops to the bed, and I run my fingers through his hair, hoping my touch will soothe him just as much as his calms me.

When he lifts his head a few minutes later, my heart breaks all over again when he looks at me with glassy eyes. His tears don’t fall, but only because he won’t allow them too. I know he’s pulling himself together for my sake.

“No matter what happens, we’re going to get through this together,” he states, and I believe him, because after all these years and through so much pain, we’ve finally found each other again.