Chapter 60 The Vigil
"You did this. Twice now."
Linda stood in front of the ICU doors. Arms crossed. Face carved from stone.
Gianni stopped three feet away. "Mrs. Santos, please..."
"No." Her voice was quiet. Deadly. "I let you see him before. I let you sit by his bed while he was bleeding out. And what happened? He tore his stitches trying to get to you. So no. You don't get to see him."
"He asked me to come back."
"He's sedated. He can't ask for anything right now." Linda's hands trembled. She clenched them into fists. "My son has been in this hospital twice in one week because of you. Because you shot him. Because you made him love you so much he'd rather die than lose you. So I'm asking you one more time. Leave."
Gianni looked past her. Through the small window in the ICU doors.
Cedric was somewhere in there. Hooked up to machines again. Fighting for his life again.
Because of him.
"I'll wait," Gianni said quietly.
"Then you'll wait alone."
The elevator dinged.
Marcus stepped out. Holding flowers. Yellow roses. Cedric's favorite.
He stopped when he saw them.
"Linda."
"Marcus." Her voice softened slightly. "You shouldn't be here either."
"I heard what happened. I just wanted to..." He held up the flowers. "I wanted to see him. Make sure he's okay."
"He's not okay. He's in the ICU. Again." Linda looked between them. At Gianni in his blood-stained shirt. At Marcus with his hopeful flowers. "Both of you need to leave my son alone."
"Linda..."
"No, Marcus. I'm sorry, but no. You both think you love him. Maybe you do. But your love is killing him." She stepped forward. Blocked the ICU entrance completely. "So here's what's going to happen. You're both going to leave. You're going to give him space. And when he's strong enough, when he's healthy enough, if he wants to see you, he'll reach out. But right now? You're both banned from this floor."
Marcus set the flowers down on a nearby chair. "I understand."
He walked back to the elevator.
Gianni didn't move.
Linda's eyes flashed. "Security is one phone call away."
"Call them."
They stared at each other.
The ICU doors opened. A nurse emerged. Young. Latina. Name tag reading ‘M. Rodriguez’.
"Mrs. Santos? We need you to sign some consent forms."
Linda hesitated. Looked at Gianni one more time.
Then followed the nurse inside.
The doors swung shut.
Gianni stood alone in the hallway.
\---
The hospital cafeteria smelled like burnt coffee and disappointment.
Gianni sat at a corner table. Staring at nothing.
Footsteps approached.
"Mind if I sit?"
Marcus. Still holding those damn flowers.
"Free country."
Marcus sat. Set the roses on the table between them.
They sat in silence.
A janitor mopped the floor nearby. The wet sound of the mop echoed in the half-empty space.
"He chose me," Gianni said quietly.
Marcus looked up. "What?"
"In the study. Before he collapsed. He chose me." Gianni's hands clenched around his coffee cup. "He had your offer. Protection. A new life. Everything you promised. And he still came back to me."
"He chose you because you gave him no other options." Marcus's voice was flat. Hard. "You orchestrated his entire life. Made sure the only person who could save him was you. That's not love. That's kidnapping with extra steps."
"And what are you offering?" Gianni met his eyes. "Witness protection? A new identity? You think he wants to spend his life looking over his shoulder? Never seeing his mother or sister again? Living as someone else?"
"Better than spending it in a hospital bed." Marcus leaned forward. "Or a grave."
"He's not going to die."
"He already died once. In the ambulance. His heart stopped. Did you know that?" Marcus's jaw clenched. "Three shocks to bring him back. And before that, your bullet almost killed him. So forgive me if I don't believe your promises about keeping him safe."
Gianni's hand tightened on the cup. The plastic cracked.
"At least I'm honest about what I am. I never pretended to be the hero." His voice dropped. Dangerous. "You're the one who rejected him in high school. Who made him feel worthless. Who only wanted him when someone else had him."
"That's not..."
"Isn't it?" Gianni stood. Slowly. "You had four years to see him. To notice him. And you didn't. Because he wasn't convenient. Because you were too busy being straight and perfect and everything your father wanted."
Marcus stood too. His chair scraped back.
People at other tables looked over.
"I made mistakes. I know that." Marcus's hands clenched into fists. "But I'm trying to fix them. I'm trying to give him a real life. Not some twisted fantasy where he belongs to you."
"He doesn't belong to me." Gianni stepped closer. "He chose me. There's a difference."
"He chose you because you destroyed every other option!"
"He chose me because I'm the only one who sees him!" Gianni's voice rose. "Not the perfect student he used to be. Not the sex worker you want to save. All of him. The good and the bad and the broken parts. I see him and I love him anyway."
"You shot him!"
"And he forgave me!"
"That doesn't make it right!"
"I never said it was right!" Gianni's control finally snapped. "Nothing about this is right! I ruined his life! I killed his father! I traumatized his sister! I know exactly what I am and what I've done. But he still chose me!"
Security guards appeared. Two of them. Large men in navy uniforms.
"Gentlemen," the older one said. Gray hair. Tired eyes. "We're going to need you to calm down."
Marcus stepped back. Raised his hands. "Sorry. We're done."
He walked away.
Left the flowers on the table.
Gianni sank back into his chair.
The security guards watched him for a moment. Then moved on.
He stared at the yellow roses.
Cedric's favorite.
Marcus remembered.
\---
Twenty minutes passed.
Gianni was still sitting there. Staring at nothing.
The cafeteria had emptied out. Just him and one other person. An old woman eating soup in the corner.
Footsteps. Running.
A nurse burst through the doors. Different from before. Older. Red hair pulled back in a tight bun.
She looked around frantically.
Spotted Gianni.
"Mr. Falcone?"
He stood. "What's wrong? Is he..."
"He's awake." She was breathing hard. Like she'd run the whole way. "And he's asking for both of you. At the same time."