ARELLA (A Mafia Story)

Forty

Damon

Four days. Four long days without seeing my wife open her eyes.

I'm no man without Freya by my side. Without her, I have no purpose. If my wife would've died four days ago, the streets would've turned red. She keeps me sane, steady.

She's the beat of my heart. The reason I wake up in the morning. Everything I do is for her. There's no me without her. I simply refuse to accept a reality where she isn't in it.

With that comes the acceptance that my line of work is what caused this. I'm the reason my wife is unconscious in a hospital bed. Yes, she was born into this life, but I can't help but to blame myself.

I'm torn between leaving her side and hunting down the person that sent those men to harm my wife, or staying here to see the moment she finally opens her eyes again.

The first time she woke, she wasn't ready. A panic attack had gripped her body. The staples holding her abdomen together had popped. She had to go back into another emergency surgery to fix the damage.

I'm a mess waiting for her to wake. I'm nothing compared to the kids, though. Andrea is a mess, drinking through his pain. Davide has taken to the gym at home, taking out his frustrations on the punching bag until his knuckles are split open.

Gianni hardly talks and refuses to eat. My heart aches the most for Alessandro. He's miserable, either sitting in his room or at the hospital. All he does is mumble to himself or rock back-and-forth in threes.

Getting him to eat anything is a challenge. He would rather sit next to his mother, his eyes glued to her vital signs. I've tried to comfort all my children. Yet, they want nothing to do with me.

Their mother is their rock. I never realized how much Freya holds this family together until it was too late. All my sons are their mother's boys.

I can't forget about Arella. Freya told me how torn up she was when I was in the hospital. How she laid her tiny body next to mine and cried. If that was bad, this is ten times worse.

My baby girl, my heart, refuses to leave her mother's side. She's even gone as far as trying to attack anybody that tries to separate them. I know it isn't healthy to keep my daughter in this room for days on end, but I can't separate them.

Every time I tried lifting the baby from her mother's side, Freya's heartbeat would spike to dangerous levels.

So, we all sit, waiting for the moment she finally opens her eyes.

She looks like sleeping beauty. I've made sure to brush and braid her hair to keep it from getting tangled. Her normally tanned skin is pale, dark circles under her eyes.

She's still the most beautiful woman I've ever had the privilege of laying my eyes on. Freya has a one-of-a-kind beauty. The type of woman who doesn't need makeup to enhance anything.

From the moment I saw her I was a goner. I no longer cared that I was being forced into an arraigned marriage. All I could think about was protecting her, loving her, and giving her anything her heart desired.

I would give up all my riches, my own life, just to make Freya happy.

As I grip her hand in mine, I give it a squeeze and bring it up to my mouth. She doesn't move as I press a kiss to her knuckles.