“He’s the silence in my chaos,” I whisper, feeling that all-familiar lump forming in my throat. I feel my breathing become more shallow, and I fight to swallow the ball of dread currently suffocating me. “But I have no right to be that greedy with his life. He cannot be my hero when I’m not worth the rescue. Maybe once upon a time, but not now.”
“I hate how much you carry with you.” Enzo’s voice is rougher than ever now. He’s almost haunted by what he’s watching me become, this shell of my former self and I feel guiltier than ever in allowing him to see my fall. “You are destroying yourself with this warped idea of yourself.” I watch his eyes graze across my entire face before he continues. “The girl you seem to think you’ve become; this sad, irreparable one who disbelieves everything that used to keep her alive isn’t the real you. You’ve gotten lost in the mess we’ve made and the duties you’ve been asked to perform.” His eyes still upon mine, capturing my attention so intently I feel nervous under the ferocity of it all. “I don’t believe for one second you deserve to not be saved. And if by chance, that day ever does come, I’ll be one of those striving to hold onto you regardless.”
“Believe me, Enz, you’re one of a few keeping me going,” I tell him honestly, offering a small smile to aid the sentiment. “Without you, I’d be a goner.”
“I’m not going anywhere, Lia,” he vows, pulling me into his arms for a quick hug. “Now, let’s get your leg fixed up.” Enzo puts his hand out for me so he can pull me to my feet. I haven’t even answered; I know he wants to fix me in as many ways as possible.
“Hey, Enz,” Zane calls out from the doorway. “Mind if I take over?”
I look up, my lips falling apart as I stare at the man before who is humanity personified to me. In this house, he is the purest by far next to Manuel. Sure, he has lashed out and exerted some Dio Lavoro attitude, but he’s saved from a body count. He hasn’t sullied his name or tarnished his conscience. His armor wears chinks, but his love is fierce and unmoved from winning its battle.
“Sure,” Enzo agrees, still holding onto me. “Make sure she sleeps, please.”
“My bed’s covered in blood,” I fret, quietly remarking on that small worry.
“You can come into my room.” He gestures out of the door, obviously to his door adjacent from mine.
I nod, sniffling as Enzo finally pulls me from our spot on the floor by my bed and to my feet. He takes me across the room, handing me delicately to Zane as if I’m made of glass. Once I’m captured in the embrace of the man I love, Enzo leaves to grab the supplies he brought up from downstairs.
“We’ll take this to your bathroom and I’ll take the bedding downstairs,” Enzo commands lightly.
It happens hastily as we move rooms, and I watch as Zane prepares to clean my mess of a leg up. He’s tender with his touches around the wound, even gentler when wrapping my leg up to help staunch the bleed with a few layers of gauze.
“I think that’ll do,” he comments, an ounce of pride filling his voice as he looks at his handiwork. This is the first time he’s spoken since Enzo left. “Hey, sweetheart,” he calls to me personally, vying for my awareness that’s clearly scattered elsewhere around the room. “You’re looking a little lost.”
“How much did you hear?” I ask, biting my lip as nerves bubble in me.
“I was sitting outside of the door for a while,” he indirectly tells me.
“Oh,” I reply, softly and a little embarrassed. My gaze drifts off, lowering down his body until it hits the white tiling of his bathroom.
“I needed it,” he promptly replies and takes my hands to pull me up to my feet from sitting on the toilet. “I love the honesty and vulnerability you still hold, Amelia. It’s refreshing.” He dots a kiss to my forehead before leading us from the small room and over to his bed.
We sit on the bed and silence beckons. The dark room is barely lit and the only noise is that from the fan in the room, but apart from that, we just sit in contemplatively dangerous silence. When it becomes too deafening, I know I have to break it.
“Look at the mess we’ve made, Zane,” I murmur softly, speaking quietly. “How do we come back from this?”
“Easily,” he tells me, taking my hand in his, “with each other. Like Enzo said, you need people to fight for you. I’m one of them, too.”
“But how long can you do that?”
“Forever,” he claims, his tone is hard and convincing. “This isn’t some battle you have to deal with on your own. You have people who, regardless of what you say and do, will forever be here, in your corner, willing to step forward when you lose the will to do it yourself.”
I close my eyes; my breathing rattles in my chest for a moment, and I decide it’s time for total honesty.