Fulfilling Fate - Book 3

Chapter 37 - The Walls Around Me Crumble

Asimina

It's been a long and tiring day. Gloria and I sit in the surgical floor sitting area; Impatiently, we have been waiting to see Carlos. I have paced these corridors alongside her in comfort. Laz came out of surgery to advise it went well, the bleeding was controlled in time, and the internal damage was repaired. Although Gloria was relieved, she hasn't been able to sit still. He remains in recovery with no visitors allowed. They will move him to the Morelli floor once the anesthesia wears off.

Life can be gone in a blink of an eye, but for these men and the world that comes with their occupation, the reality is they have one foot in the grave. I foolishly dismissed what the mafia world brings. At first, I was intrigued. I found the danger sexy. Raffaele's dominant and aggressive personality would weaken me.

Running my finger through my hair, I let out a sorrowful breath. It wasn't that I was naïve or blinded by love. I choose not to think about the reality of it all. I'm far too deeply involved ever to leave, and I love that man far too much to spend life away from him. Swallowing the lump down, I'm engulfed with fear for my children. Suddenly I can no longer push away the reality of the world I have chosen. Watching Gloria's agony and Carlos's state forces me out of my denial.

"I'm pregnant," Gloria finally speaks after an hour of remaining mute. I snap my body around and give her my full attention, meekly smiling at the woman. Sniffling, fresh tears run down her face and wash away her cheeks' stains from the earlier ones. "We were going for breakfast. I was going to give him the news."

Throwing my arm around her, I embrace her, "you will still get that chance. Waste no time, tell him as soon as he opens his eyes."

Nodding, she squeezes her hold on me, "he wanted this. I just wasn't ready. I still don't think I am."

Smiling, I peel her out of my embrace, "I felt that way too. Both with Nathan's and this pregnancy, but it's here, it's happening!"

Running her hands down to her stomach, a genuine smile tugs on her lips, "If it's a boy, I hope he looks like his father."

Apart from mine and Gloria's soft tone conversation, the hospital's surgical floor has a haunting silence. So, the heavy footsteps running with urgency draw my attention immediately. Standing from my seat, I watch my cousin running towards the doors as an ambulance starts to approach. This can't be good. Tommy stands at the door pushing the exit button. He holds the doors open, yelling, panicked at my cousins. All feeling in my body begins to vanish. My blood drains as my temperature falls below zero. My mind is racing; somehow, I'm taking steps towards them. Slowly I'm moving; my heart fills with dread as the Morelli fleet cars slam on their brakes next to the ambulance.

Tears begin to stream as their doors open, and Raffaele is missing. Blinking rapidly, I try and clear my vision. Unable to take another step, I lean my back against the wall and close my eyes. Vigorously shaking my head, bringing my shaky hand to mouth, I scream. I don't have to look. Every fiber in me is confident Raffaele is the one in that ambulance.

This can't be happening. Please don't let this happen.

My mind is in shambles, praying to god, even though I'm sure they will fall to deaf ears. Raffaele sold his soul at the young age of ten. I start begging the devil instead. I find myself sacrificing my soul for his life. I can't do this without him. I don't want to do this without him. The loud voices are on mute as I fall into despair. All I can hear are my agonizing cries. I open my eyes as arms embrace me. Gloria squeezes her hold, attempting to block my view as nurses frantically run in front, and the ambulance bed is wheeled towards us.

She fails, and my eyes land on my husband's lifeless face. I can't make out what is happening. What Laz and Petro are doing, but it's urgent. Pushing Gloria off me, I fall forward, grabbing the bed, stopping them from wheeling him past me. Multiple hands seize my arms, attempting to pull me away. My desperate grip is too firm.