*Second Chance Romance*
Veterinarian Dante, and receptionist, Ellie's past is far from perfect. The tragedy, bad memories and misunderstandings are what ripped them apart. Back in each others lives again, they have two choices; work through the pain...
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Fulford Rd, York. Dante's parents house.
2016.
I'm barely breathing. It's two hundred and forty hours without my baby. And so scary how alone I feel, isolating myself from the world by living inside our bedroom.
"No, no, no," I cry, tugging at my t-shirt when my boobs start to ache. "Not again. I thought this ended already."
Dante stumbles in here, still in the same clothes from three days ago, rubbing at his exhausted and pale face. "Is your milk coming through again?"
I nod, holding my hands over my face as the tears start streaming. "It's not fair."
The breath he lets out is a one of an internal struggle. He lifts me up, carefully pulling at the t-shirt so he doesn't disturb my caesarean wound, then he holds something soft over my nipples while I shudder into the pillow.
"Do you need me to change your dressings on your belly?" he asks, knowing how distraught I get at seeing the empty roundness of my stomach.
"Yes, please," I whisper, closing my eyes and holding the cloth over my breasts.
Dante grabs the supplies and sits next to me on the bed, peeling back the gauge first before he studies it, making a sharp noise. "Ellie, this is infected, baby."
I reach out to touch him, breathing a little easier when he kisses my fingers. Our relationship is strained to say the least, and if he isn't avoiding me, he's acting short-tempered.
"Just clean it. I'll be okay," I say, having to grit my teeth when the permanent ache in my lower stomach hits me.
The sounds of plastic have me preparing myself. "There's big yellow blisters. I don't think that's normal. Can I let mum have a look? Please, E?"
I give in to the fear in his voice, not wanting to bring him anymore stress. "Okay."
He pats my knee, going in search of his mum, who's very concerned once she see's me. My dignity went out the window days ago. Half-naked from the waist up, I have a big pair of knickers on holding the biggest pad known to man because I'm petrified I'll start bleeding again.
Vittoria kisses my cheek. "Hello, darling. Dante says your scar isn't healing well."
I bite down on my wobbly lip. "Yes. Please can you take a look?"
I will always remember the look she gives me. It's filled to the brim with fear, worry and love. My eyes close when I turn my face into my pillow. Vittoria only has to take one look before she's telling us it's definitely infected because the skin around it is all red and puffy too.
Dante is fidgety when he walks to the top of the bed, stroking my face until I look at him. "I'm going to call your doctor's surgery. They said they'll do at home visits, so you don't have to go anywhere."
