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.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
Luca