Chapter 158: I'll Let You Choke Me If You Want.

SANCIA

I don't know how long we’ve been waiting right outside the emergency room while Lorenzo was being treated. I could honestly say it was the second-longest night of my life. It could be less time than I thought. At this point, I don’t know anything.

I just know it was late, probably around midnight or dawn. Zetta, who had followed us in my car while I rode the ambulance with Lorenzo, was the only other person with me.

She was the one who had been comforting me, telling me that everything was going to be okay. We’d left Giulia back at the mansion with Dario. I’d called a while back to check on them, and they were both safe at home.

Dario was okay, sleeping like the baby he is, so that’s one thing to worry about. Right now, we are waiting on the doctor to finish checking on Lorenzo. To say I’m scared and worried is an understatement.

“Do not worry, Signora, I’ve known Lorenzo all his life; he’s blessed and strong, and I believe he will be okay,” Zetta said, her tone reassuring. I glance to her side, and although concern is visible on her face, her confidence in his recovery is clear.

Doubts crept into my thoughts as I stared at her longer than I intended. “ Did you know Lorenzo was alive?” I whispered so quietly. Zetta blinked, a guilty expression on her face.

She sighed and nodded, “I did; I knew he was still alive.”

I swallowed and nodded. A part of me wants to be angry with her for hiding the truth from me, but I also understand why she did it. Her loyalty will always be first and foremost to the Marchetti famiglia, to Lorenzo.

“How long have you known?”

“Since the beginning, Signora., I’m sorry, but I swore to Alessandro that I would keep it a secret. You don’t know how bad it was. Luca had found Lorenzo at the edge of the river, washed off by the rain,” she explained.

“When I saw him after they brought him to the villa, I really thought he was dead at the time. It was only after he was taken to the hospital that he found out he was alive, and that's when he fell into a coma.”

“So all this time he was in a coma, is that what you’re saying?”

She sighed, her expression tinged with sadness. "Lorenzo has lost some of his memories, but he's a fighter. We just need to give him time to recover,” she said, her voice gentle but hopeful.

“The doctor warned Luca about disclosing some sensitive information that might cause serious damage to Lorenzo’s health, which is why he doesn't know about you. I’m honestly surprised he’s here, and he knows where to find you, because Luca told me he hasn’t talked to him for days now.”

From everything Zetta was saying, I could fill in the gaps. Lorenzo woke up with the memory of me shooting him and decided to seek revenge; he didn’t go to Isabella because he didn’t remember who really shot him.

Which means he also doesn’t remember what happened with Papa or why everything had gone to hell that day three years ago, leaving me to wonder how much of our past he truly retained and how that would affect our future.

“How did Alessandro find out?”

“Luca called them and told them everything. Alessandro came and took him with him to the States.” Laughter bubbled inside me. God, the Marchetti men are something else.

So Alessandro already knew what happened to his cousin, but still decided to take revenge on my famiglia for killing said cousin while he was hiding him in New York. Talk about being ruthless.

Guess I should expect nothing less from the man rumored to be a high-end mercenary, also nicknamed Shadow.

I was still mulling over all this information when a familiar nurse walked out of the sterile, brightly lit emergency room. Zetta and I were instantly on our feet as we rushed to her.

“Rita, can you tell me how he is doing, please?” I asked, my heart pounding with fear.

“He's stable and awake. Doctor Steven is with him, so he's in safe hands, Elena.”

“Thank you so much.”

“By the way, your boyfriend is hot,” the brunette nurse said, winking, smiling at me, then nodding at Zetta, who kept thanking her.

I drop back on my seat in the hallway, feeling something loosen inside me. I inhale and exhale before I get up and hurry to his room. I opened the door, and Doctor Steven's voice floated out.

“Mr. Marchetti, from your description, you passed out because your brain is still recovering from post-traumatic amnesia. When a patient tries to force memory recall, it can trigger symptoms like severe headache, confusion, or pressure,” Doctor Steven said.

My stomach twisted with nerves at the realization that I’m probably the reason he was in this condition. Strangely, despite my mixed feelings, I feel so bad.

“I want you to understand something important, as evidently clear, your memory is not ‘gone.’ It’s temporarily disrupted because your brain has been injured. It’s like a system that needs time to reboot.” Doctor Steven explained.

“I need it to reboot faster, doc. What do you suggest?” Lorenzo deadpanned.

“Absolutely nothing; that pain is your brain signaling that it’s still healing. Headaches after trauma, especially when thinking hard or recalling events, are common.

Memory usually returns gradually over time as the brain heals. Sometimes it comes in pieces, not all at once; trying to force it back can be detrimental to health.”

“I understand. When can I get discharged? I have business to take care of,” Lorenzo said, already sitting up from his horizontal position on the bed.

“You need to stay so we can monitor you, Mr. Marchetti.”

“I appreciate the kind suggestions, doc, but I'll be leaving now.” He was already pulling out the IV when I barged into the room, grabbing hold of his arms, my back to the doctor.

“What are you doing? Didn't you hear the doctor? He said they needed to monitor you.”

“And I say, I'm fine, Sancia. I've been in a hospital bed for longer than I'd thought possible, and the last thing I want is to spend another damn day in it.”

“But what if…” I pause suddenly as something he'd said finally sinks in. I thought I misheard him back at the mansion, but he just called my name again.

My grip tightens on his arms as I stare up at him, my heart in my throat and hope in my eyes.

“W—what, did you just say?”

That familiar arrogant self-assured grin graced his lips as he cupped my face with one hand.”

“I've been in a hospital bed…”

I shake my head, “Not that, before, before you said that you called my name.”

He tilted his head, “Sancia?”

A huge lump lodges itself instantly in my throat. As I opened and closed my mouth before finally whispering, my voice choked with emotion. “You remember me? You know who I am?”

Lorenzo cupped my face with both hands, his eyes swirling with dark emotions, and without any warning, he kissed me, slamming his mouth on mine.

Kissing me with a hunger that seemed to come from his very soul, and I was helpless against the onslaught.

My heart sings to him, mouth molding and shaping against his as our mouths, lips, and tongues rebrand and remind each other of who they belong to.

When we parted, I still felt like it was a dream. But he was here and staring at me like it was the first time he had seen me. “So your memory is back?” I asked, fear and anticipation in my heart.

“No, it isn't. I just remember bits and pieces, like your from when you shot me,” Lorenzo said, his face blank.

My heart instantly plummeted. I swallowed. “So you don't remember anything?”

I don't know why I'm disappointed. Surely recovering his memories couldn't be this easy.

The loud clearing of a throat reminds me where we are, and I jump back, my face flaming.

“I’ll advise against asking him questions that could further trigger his trauma,” Dr. Steven warned.

I nodded despite my desire to know the truth; Lorenzo's health has to come first. I'll be lying if I say I wasn't terrified when he just passed out.

“You’re right, doctor, I’m sorry.”

The older man just nodded, “It’s alright, but I will advise you to talk to him; he needs to stay at the hospital, at least for twenty-four hours, so that we can monitor him.”

“Is it something serious? Do you think he’ll need surgery? Or therapy?” I asked. nervously.

“No, no, relax, Elena,” Doctor Steven replied. “It’s just a precaution.”

“You heard the doctor; you need to stay at the hospital.”

“Thank you, doctor, but I think I know my own condition very well,” he said with a finality I know all too well—the stubborn jerk. “I assure you I’m alright now.”

“My wife, on the other hand, needs to get treated.”

“Your wife? I didn't realize you were married, Elena, or should I say Sancia?” he asked curiously. I’m sure he has so many questions.

Doctor Steven is a neurosurgeon at the hospital I work in and has known me for a year under the name Elena, only to learn now that’s not really my name, and not only that, but I shot someone?

Something tells me he’ll never see me the same again. I smile awkwardly. I don't know how to explain this, so I kept quiet.

Lorenzo grabbed my hand with surprising gentleness, as though he wasn’t at fault for the bruises, although technically, if I hadn’t kept pulling and twisting my wrists, my wrists wouldn’t have been this badly bruised.

“Come sit down, let the doctor take a look at you.” He guided me to sit down even though I didn’t want to.

“It’s okay, doctor, I’m stopping by Dr. Josh's office to get it treated,” I argued, trying to pull my hands free.

It was a lie. I didn’t want to argue with him in front of the doctor. Just because I’m glad he’s not dead and we kissed doesn’t mean we’re suddenly chummy.

There’s so much to unpack about this night, and I’m just so exhausted, all I want is to get home, hug Dario, and sleep for a long time.

Not to mention the fear deep in my gut that tells me Lorenzo wasn't being truthful about his memories. What if he was lying? What if he recovered all his memories?

There was just something different about him that I can’t quite put my finger on.

“Who’s Doctor Josh?” he asked. I blinked, startled.

I frowned. “What?”

“Who’s Doctor Josh?” he repeats, face blank, but I know him too well to know that’s not just a random question.

I shrugged, “He’s just a doctor here.”

“Mm.”

He turned to Dr. Steven. “Doctor, you do it, and of course, you’ll call her Elena, for your safety,” Lorenzo said in a quiet, dangerous voice. It was a threat.

“Lorenzo!” I gasped, glaring at him before apologizing to the kind doctor, who looked less comfortable than he had a moment ago.

“I’m so sorry, doctor, he doesn’t mean anything by it.”

“Don’t lie to the good doctor, Sancia.”

Zetta and two men walking into the room were what stopped me from flinging something at his head. One of them looked familiar, but I don't remember meeting the other.

“Signora,” they both nodded respectfully.

One look at them and I could see the realization in Doctor Steven's eyes, but he kept his head down and did as Lorenzo requested, or should I say ordered.

Doctor Steven cleaned and bandaged my wrists while Zetta spoke with the men and Diavolo.

When he was done, I thanked him, and he just nodded before hurrying out of the room. The two men walked out, leaving us alone.

Lorenzo placed his hand on my lower back like he had every right.

“Don't touch me,” I snapped. “Don't think because we…we kissed that anything has changed between us.”

“I wouldn't dream of it, but you're still my wife and the mother of my son,” he said calmly, placing his hand back where it had been before I dislodged it.

“For like ten minutes, it would have been great if you'd remembered I'm your wife before you tried to kill me.” His face darkened, his jaw gritted so hard I thought he might snap it.

“I'll let you choke me if you want,” he finally responds, voice rough, as he guides me out of the hospital; that move in itself was a sign he wasn’t the same man I met at the beginning of this night.

The two men from earlier weren't outside when we stepped out. I know enough to know they're here, probably just hiding out of sight.

“I’ll have someone drive you home,” he said as we approached the parking lot.

“I drove in Sancia’s car; it’s here,” Zetta replied.

“And what do you mean you’ll have someone drive us home? We need to talk,” I said.

“I know.” He must have thought about something because he suddenly said. “Never mind, I’ll drive you.”

I frown, slightly confused by his mood swing. It’s like his thoughts aren’t even here, like he’s thinking of something really important, or maybe it's because he finally remembered he has a wife and a son.

Either way, I can’t just let him go away. I want to find out if he really didn't recover his memories, or if he had and was hiding it from me for some reason. And if he had, I would like to know just how much he’d remember.

“Where is my gun?” he asked, just as we entered the front seat of my car, which Zetta drove.

I shrugged. “What gun?” I asked, although I knew exactly what he was asking.

“Don't think I don't know you took all my stuff. My gun, switchblade, and other things.”

I shrugged, “You should be glad I hid them; otherwise your ass will be in a whole lot of trouble.”

“Are you saying you care about me?” he asked, smirking. His reply and reaction were so like the old Lorenzo that I was stunned.

“In your dreams.”

If it weren’t for Giulia, who reminded me about the gun and switchblade, we would have had a whole other problem on our hands if the paramedic had seen them.

He nodded at my reply and gunned the car out of the hospital.

The entire time he drove us, Lorenzo didn't say a single word; even when Zetta spoke to him, he only gave her a monosyllabic answer. It was as though he had so many thoughts in his head.

When we arrived at the house, Zetta and I got out of the car, and I turned when I realized he was still in the car.

“Get inside the house, Sancia,” he said, his voice cutting through my monologue.

“I'm driving your car back to my hotel. I'll see you tomorrow,” and with that, he drove away, leaving me confused.