Chapter 180 IN DENIAL.
\~~~RAINA.
I should have sensed it sooner. I should have wrapped my arms around my middle during that long night, whispered promises to the life growing inside.
Instead, I had been careless, blind to the miracle right there. Cruel, even, letting the world crash in and take it. No. I couldn't face that truth. Sleep was safer. In sleep, I could hold onto the dream, and keep the babies close.
“No, no, baby. No,” Luciano said, his hand on my shoulder, pulling me back up slowly. His touch was gentle, but I felt the tremble in his fingers.
“Stop. I need to sleep,” I sobbed, the tears starting to leak out despite my efforts. My chest heaved, but I fought it, turning away.
“You're in denial, Raina. It's okay, but you have to face it,” His words were soft, pleading.
“I am not. Our baby is still holding on. I can feel it. Here,” I grabbed his hand and pressed it flat against my stomach. “Do you feel it moving? See? It's right there.”
“Jesus, babe!” Luciano pulled back a little, his face twisting with pain. He didn't yank away, but his eyes filled with tears he blinked hard against them.
“Our baby is fine. Just let me rest, and it'll be okay.”
“Raina, look at me. Please, look at me.,”He cupped my face, turning it toward him.
“No. What I need to do is sleep,” I shook my head, stubbornly, and flopped back onto the pillow, curling into myself.
The room spun a bit, the pain meds mixing with the grief, but I didn't care.
But Luciano wouldn't let me go that easily. He shifted on the bed, his arms coming around me from behind, pulling me into a forceful hug. Strong, and unyielding, like he was anchoring me to the now.
“Raina, no. You can't run from this. I am here. We are in this together,” His chest pressed against my back, warm and solid, but it felt like chains.
“Let me be! Please!” I screamed, my voice raw and breaking. I thrashed against him, weak punches to his arms, and kicks that barely moved the blanket.
“Stop! I need to sleep! Let the baby come back!” The words tore out of me, desperate, and wild. My body shook with the effort, and every muscle screamed in protest from the trauma.
He held on tighter, his grip like iron wrapped in care. “Shh, baby. I've got you. Cry it out. I'm not letting go.” His breath was hot against my ear, steady even as I fought.
I screamed again, louder, the sound echoing off the white walls. “No! It is not gone! Our child is still alive! I promise, Luciano, it's fighting! Just like me!” Tears poured down my face, soaking the pillow, my sobs turning to hiccups. I could picture the tiny heart beating, holding on against the odds. It had to be true.
If I believed hard enough, maybe it would.
He didn't answer, just rocked me slowly, his arms a cage I couldn't escape. His silence hurt more than words, confirming what I refused to hear. Across the room, Alessia stood frozen, her hand clamped over her mouth, shoulders shaking as she sobbed quietly. Tears streamed down her cheeks, but I didn't look at her. I couldn’t. Her pain was too much, and a mirror to mine. I focused on the hug, on the fight, and on promising over and over through my cries. “It's alive. I know it. We'll see it soon.”
Minutes stretched into what felt like hours. My screams faded to whimpers, my body going limp in his hold. Exhaustion pulled at me, heavy and insistent. Luciano loosened his grip just a fraction, enough to stroke my hair, murmur nonsense comforts.
"I love you, Raina. So much. We will get through this.” But his voice was thick, broken. He was hurting too, carrying the weight of my denial on top of his own grief.
I thought about the dream again, clinging to it like a lifeline.
In that world, I hadn't failed. I was whole. Here, in this bed, with the empty ache inside, I felt like nothing. How had I let this happen?
Alessia's sobs grew quieter, but she didn't move. She wiped her face with her sleeve, her eyes red and puffy, watching us with that fierce protectiveness she always had. She wanted to help, to fix it, but there was no fixing this.
Luciano kissed the top of my head, his stubble scratching my scalp. “Rest now, but not to escape. Rest to heal. With me.”
I didn't fight anymore. The energy drained out, leaving me hollow. My hand drifted to my stomach again, pressing lightly. Empty. But in my mind, I whispered to the baby, telling it to hold on.
Maybe tomorrow I'll wake up and feel it. Maybe the dream wasn't just a dream. As sleep tugged at the edges of my vision, I let it come, but not fully. Not without hope. Luciano's arms stayed around me, a promise in the darkness. We'd face the truth eventually, but for now, denial was my armor.
And in it, I could almost hear the laughter of those dream children, echoing faintly, and calling me back.