Down bad

Down bad
BEN POV

It’s been a week since we arrived in Italy, and I haven’t noticed a single change in Ambrose’s condition. My efforts to bring back his old memories were going down the drain.

I stood in the kitchen, preparing the dish he taught me back at the cabin when it was just the two of us.

He was bound to remember something.

Alessia walked in front of me and grinned.
“What smells so good?” I asked curiously.
“An Italian dish,” I muttered quietly.

“It’s something your father taught me.”

Her eyes lit up.

“Really?”

She frowned.

“Are you saying that he was Italian?”

I nodded eagerly.

I always kept the truth about her real father hidden, but slowly I would break the news to her.

“Is that why we came to Italy? Because you want to feel close to him?”

I sighed softly.

“Yeah...”

I wanted to be close to him; after all, he was in front of me.

Ambrose walked in, returning from his jog, and our eyes locked in a frenzy.

His gaze lingered longer, and then he looked away, turning to Alessia.

My Ambrose was still there… I could see it clearly.

“What are you making?” he finally asked after giving Alessia a kiss.

A small curve graced my lips.

“Pasta fagioli soup.”

He looked surprised.

“You made this all by yourself?” he asked.
I could see the disbelief written all over his face.

I shrugged carelessly.

“What can I say? I’m a woman of many skills and talents.”

His eyes lit up as he looked at the simmering soup.

“Alessia’s father taught me how to cook this. The first time we tried this together, it was a disaster; we almost burnt down the entire kitchen.”

Ambrose chuckled softly.

“Even the expert chef teaching me messed up at some point.”

He frowned.

“That’s where you’re wrong, Ben,” he muttered quietly, defending himself.

I cocked a brow at him.

Did he remember something?

I let out a laugh.

“What do you mean?”

He suddenly kept quiet and looked away, avoiding my gaze.

“Ambrose?”

He excused himself and left the room.
I thought I was making progress, but I was still at the starting line.

Alessia narrowed her eyes at me.
“Mommy, what’s going on between you and Grandpa?”

I brushed her off.

“Nothing is happening. I think he just had some important work to do; that’s why he left quickly.”

She didn’t seem convinced.

But I was going to spend my morning convincing an eight-year-old that nothing was going on between her father and me.
I turned off the stove and sighed deeply.
Did I just blow up my life for a man who doesn’t even remember that we have a kid together?

I groaned deeply, running my fingers through my hair.

I felt defeated.

I turned to look at Alessia.

“Would you like some soup?” I asked curiously.

She nodded quietly.

As I served the soup, Mateo casually strolled in, sniffing the air.

“What smells good in here?”

I pointed to the pot on the stove.

“Worthless soup,” I muttered sadly and left the kitchen.

I found myself heading towards the vineyard.

For the first time in my life, I felt like I was giving up on love.

It felt like I was trying too hard.
I was fighting for something that was long gone, stacked away in ancient history.
He didn’t love me.

He wasn’t going to ever remember me or what we shared.

Tears rolled down my cheeks.
Where did I go wrong?
It felt like coming to Italy was a bad idea.
Nolan was right all along.

I shouldn’t have jumped into the fire.
I lost my marriage.
I lost my husband.
I lost everything we had built together.
I was so foolish.

I walked deeper into the vineyard.
For the first time in my life, I felt ashamed.
I wiped my tears away, running deeper into the massive garden, and tripped, falling to the ground with a thud.

I winced in pain, trying to move.

My foot got caught in a rabbit trap, the sharp metal claws digging into my skin.

I was bleeding.
I let out a whimper, trying to move my foot.
I was so far from the house; no one would hear my scream.
I let out a gasp as I touched my bloody foot.

I blinked, trying to focus.

“Help!”

“Mateo!”

I was only met with silence.

I broke down crying.

“Ambrose…”

They were going to find me.
They were going to notice that I was missing.

I just had to be patient.
My vision was blurry.

“Ben?”

I could hear someone calling my name.
The rustling continued as I heard heavy footsteps.

Ambrose came into view, and his eyes widened in horror.

I reached out weakly.

“What were you thinking?” he scolded angrily.

His eyes never left mine.

“I’m not losing you for the second time…” he whispered, and I touched his cheek, watching as his face softened.

“You remember?”

His face hardened, and he pushed my hand away.

“You need a hospital... you’re losing too much blood,” he muttered quietly.

“This is going to hurt, Ben.”

Before I could comprehend what was happening, he removed the trap, and the last thing I remember is screaming.
When my eyes opened again, I was no longer in the vineyard.

I was on the hospital bed with my foot wrapped in bandages.

My vision still felt hazy.

“You’re awake,” a voice finally said.
I looked around the room and saw Mateo.
“Where is Ambrose?”

He sighed deeply.

“Alessia couldn’t stop crying… so he took her for a walk.”

I let out a breath.

“What were you doing in the vineyard?” he finally asked.

I shrugged.

“Crying and wishing I never came here.”

He remained silent.

“In the vineyard… he said he didn’t want to lose me again. I saw it in his eyes, Mateo; he remembers every single fucking thing.”
He stood up, walking toward me, and grasped my hand.

“Maybe you heard wrong, Ben… he didn’t mention anything like that.”

I felt it.
His words.
His love.
He knows it.

A lone tear rolled down my cheek.

“He knows the truth… he just doesn’t want me anymore,” I whispered.

Mateo gave my hand a gentle squeeze and left the room.

I felt heartbroken.
Was he going to deny it too?
I wasn’t delusional.
I heard him.
A few minutes later, the door opened, and Ambrose walked in.

Our eyes locked in a frenzy.

“How are you holding up?” he asked.

“Where is Alessia?”

“She’s in the bathroom.”

I nodded.

“Tell me the truth.”

He gave me a puzzled look.
“What are you talking about?”

I stared at him in disbelief.

“You’re pretending to lose your memory to make Nolan happy… but what about our happiness, Ambrose?”

I couldn’t read his face.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Ben… maybe the blood loss made you a little bit confused, but I’ll tell you the truth.”
I frowned.

“You should go back to your husband. Coming to Italy was a big mistake.”

I scoffed.

“That’s it?”

His cold eyes met mine.

“I’ll have Mateo prepare your flight for New York. There’s nothing here for you, Ben; go back home and take care of your daughter.”

My eyes widened in surprise.

“Ambrose?”

He walked away.
Tears filled my eyes.
A sob escaped my lips as I broke down crying.