Chapter 122 UNDO ME.
\~~~RAINA.
I stood in the corner of the hospital room, my back pressed against the cold wall, and my arms wrapped tight around myself. The doctor moved around Luciano's bed, checking the monitors, adjusting tubes, and shining a light into his eyes.
His face stayed calm, professional, but my heart raced with every beep from the machines. Luciano lay there still, his chest rising and falling in that steady rhythm they'd fought so hard to keep. Bruises marked his skin, and bandages wrapped his side where the bullet had torn through. I bit my lip to stay quiet, giving the doctor space. The air smelled of antiseptic, sharp and clean, mixing with the faint metallic tang that always lingered in these places.
Finally, the doctor straightened up, snapping off his gloves. He turned to me, his expression softening just a bit.
“Congratulations, Mrs. Moretti. Your husband is out of danger now. The surgery went well with no internal bleeding, and his vitals are stable. We've managed the infection risk with antibiotics, and the swelling around the wound has reduced. He just needs time to wake up. Could be minutes, or maybe a few hours. Maybe a day, in fact.. We will monitor his brain activity to ensure no complications from the blood loss.”
I barely heard the rest. Words like neurological checks and post-op recovery blurred into noise as relief hit me like a punch.
He is stable and out of danger. That's all that mattered. I rushed to his bedside before the doctor even finished, my chair scraping against the floor as I pulled it close. The doctor nodded and slipped out, leaving us alone.
I sank into the seat, my legs weak, and took Luciano's hand in mine. His skin felt cool, and his fingers limped against my palm. Gently, I fondled them, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles, tracing the lines of his veins.
He must be feeling stiff, I thought. Lying there so long, unmoving, his body probably ached even in sleep. I pressed lightly, massaging from his wrist up to his elbow, willing warmth back into him.
Then I shifted, standing to reach his legs under the thin blanket. My hands worked over his calves, kneading the muscles softly, careful not to jostle the IV line. It felt like a ritual, this touch like it was my way of telling him I was here, that I wouldn't leave.
“You should wake up soon, you know?” My voice came out soft, shaky. “I... I need you with me.” I stuttered over the words, wiping tears from my cheeks with my free hand. They kept falling anyway, hot and fast. I leaned closer, my breath catching.
“I have a lot to say to you. Don't get me wrong, I don't intend on lashing out at you again. I was being insensitive. I'm sorry.”
I sat back down, my other hand reaching up to caress his hair. Strands fell dark and messy across his forehead, and I smoothed them away, fingers lingering on the warmth of his scalp. His face looked peaceful, almost boyish without the usual tension in his jaw. But seeing him like this, so vulnerable, cracked something open in me.
“Perhaps the reason I've been running from this is that I don't believe I deserve something so gentle after everything I've ruined,” The confession spilled out, raw and unfiltered. “I have been carrying my guilt like a second skin, and sometimes it convinces me I should not reach for anything warm,” My voice trembled, but I kept going, needing to say it while he couldn't interrupt.
“But you... You undo me. You are the thought that keeps circling back no matter how hard I try to scatter it. The ache I pretend not to recognize. I burn for you in ways that make me afraid of myself. You are the bane of my existence and this is not because you hurt me, but because you make leaving impossible.”
Tears streamed down my face now, soaking my collar. I tightened my grip on his hand, holding on like he'd slip away if I let go. Sobs shook my shoulders, but the words wouldn't stop.
“I have tried to be reasonable. I have tried distance, logic, and silence. None of it works. You sit at the center of my wanting, uninvited and relentless. The object of my desire, and the quiet madness I carry with me everywhere. I know I am not innocent. I know I am not easy. But with you, I find myself hoping foolishly, and dangerously, that I am still worthy of being chosen. That I am allowed to want, even if my hands shake when I reach. If this is a sin, then it is one I have stopped resisting. God, I love you, Luciano.”
The room blurred through my tears, my chest heaving as I poured out everything I'd buried for months.
The divorce, the fights, and the way I'd walked away thinking it would free us both. It all felt like chains now, heavy and cold. I loved him so much it hurt, a deep, twisting pain that had nothing to do with the past and everything to do with right now.
Then, his hand twitched in mine. Just a small shake, but it jolted me. I froze, staring at his face. His eyelids fluttered, then opened slowly, those dark eyes focusing on the ceiling first, then sliding to me.
“L... Luciano?” I stuttered, my heart slamming against my ribs.
Hope and fear tangled inside me.
He stared at me blankly, his brow furrowing slightly. He raised it higher, like he was trying to place a puzzle piece that didn't fit. “W... who are you?’' he mumbled, his voice rough, barely above a whisper.
The world crashed down around me. My breath caught, sharp and painful, as if someone had punched the air from my lungs.
No. This couldn't be happening. I stood up so fast the chair tipped back, clattering against the floor.
“It's me…” Tears fell freely now, splashing onto the bedsheet. “Y... you don't remember me? I am your wife!” I cried, the words breaking on a sob. My hands flew to my mouth, but it was too late as the devastation hit full force.
All those confessions, laid bare, and he looked at me like a stranger. Like I'd never been anything to him.
I turned, legs unsteady, needing the doctor, needing someone to fix this nightmare. But his hand caught my wrist, firm despite his weakness, holding me still. I spun back, heart pounding, and met his gaze.
“Hello, Solnyshko,’' he said softly, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.
“Asshole!”
I wailed, relief flooding me so intensely that I nearly collapsed. I threw myself forward, hugging him tight, and careful of his wounds. His arms came around me weakly, pulling me close, and I buried my face in his neck, crying harder than before.
“You love me that much, sunshine?” He groaned, still patting my back.
Of course, he heard me.