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Chapter Twenty-Seven

Nora

T he first time I wake, my eyelids feel like lead. My vision is blurry, and my head feels as though it's swimming in fog. But through the haze, one thing is clear—Rafaele. He’s sitting beside me, his hand enveloping mine, his face etched with worry and something deeper.

“Amore,” he whispers, his voice low and fervent. “You’re safe. I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

I want to respond, to tell him I hear him, that I feel the strength of his love holding me steady even as the world wavers. But the pull of unconsciousness is too strong, and I slip away again.

The second time, I manage to open my eyes a little wider. The room is dim, save for the soft glow of a light near the bed. Rafaele’s face is closer now, his forehead resting against our joined hands, his lips moving silently in what could only be a prayer. Seeing him like this—vulnerable, raw—makes my chest tighten. He’s always been my pillar, my unyielding force, and now, even in his quiet despair, he’s still that for me.

“You’ll be okay,” he murmurs, lifting his head, his dark eyes glistening. “You’re the strongest person I know. You gave me a reason to be better. You’ve given me everything, Nora. I love you. I’ll never stop loving you.”

The words wrap around me like a warm blanket as my eyelids grow heavy again.

The third time, I wake fully. The light is brighter, and the fog has cleared just enough for me to take in my surroundings. The sterile smell of the hospital is unmistakable, but it’s not what holds my attention. It’s the sight before me—Rafaele, sitting in a chair beside the bed, cradling a tiny bundle in his arms.

My breath catches. The baby is impossibly small, wrapped in a soft pink blanket, with a shock of black hair peeking out. As I focus, my heart swells. She has Rafaele’s black hair. My throat tightens as tears spring to my eyes.

Rafaele notices me stirring and looks up, his expression transforming from exhaustion to unbridled relief. “Nora,” he says, his voice breaking. “You’re awake.”

I try to speak, but the lump in my throat won’t let me. Instead, I just nod, my gaze locked on the tiny miracle in his arms.

He stands, carefully bringing her closer to me, and lowers himself onto the edge of the bed. “Amore, meet our daughter. She’s perfect—just like her mother.”

I reach out, my fingers trembling as they graze the soft blanket. Rafaele shifts slightly, bringing her closer until I can cradle her against me. The weight of her, the warmth—it’s overwhelming. She stirs, her tiny fist brushing against my hand, and I feel a sob rise in my chest.

“Look at her tiny hands. She’s perfect. How did we create something so… miraculous?” I whisper, my voice hoarse.

“She has your eyes—so full of life already. But the hair, that’s all me. Let’s just hope she inherits your patience.” he says softly, his hand resting over mine as we both stare at her.

I laugh weakly, the sound broken but filled with joy. “Let’s hope she gets a mix.”

We sit like that for a moment, the three of us, wrapped in a bubble of love that feels unbreakable. The pain, the fear, everything we’ve endured—it all fades in this moment. All I can see is my husband and our little girl, and it feels like the most beautiful scene I’ve ever witnessed.

“She’s so small,” I murmur, my tears falling freely now.

“But she’s strong,” Rafaele says with pride. “Just like her mother.” He rests her completely in my arms before reaching for a glass on the side table and helping me take a few sips—the water feels like heaven in my throat.

I can’t stop looking at her and the way she details me. I’m learning her face as she’s learning mine. “She’s perfection,” I whisper, awe in every word.

Rafaele kisses the top of my head, his lips against my hair. “Of course she is. You made her.”

I roll my eyes, but a tender smile plays on my lips. “We made her.”

He brushes his hand against my cheek as he leans down to press his lips to mine in a kiss so soft it feels like a promise. “Thank you for coming back to me,” he murmurs, his voice raw with emotion.

“I would have fought Hades himself to come back to you,” I reply, tears threatening again.

His eyes darken with intensity as he whispers against my temple, “And I would have dragged you out myself.”

I absorb his words like a vow as Paolo steps in, his usual smirk firmly in place, though the relief in his eyes is unmistakable. “Well, well, look who’s up?” he says, sauntering over. I nod, unable to speak past the lump in my throat. Instead, I glance at our daughter, her tiny form nestled against me. “She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” I finally manage, my voice thick with emotion.

Paolo bends down, brushing a finger gently across her soft forehead. “She really is. Perfect, just like her mother. You gave us a scare, Norina. Don’t do that again—I mean it.” He touches the tip of her button nose. “But seriously, thank heaven she didn’t get Rafaele’s nose.”

Rafaele scowls, but there’s a faint hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Do you ever say anything useful, Paolo?”

“Useful? I’m providing essential comic relief, thank you very much,” Paolo quips, winking at me. “Besides, I’m just here to admire my goddaughter. That’s official, by the way. I’m the godfather.”

Rafaele raises an eyebrow. “We’ll see.”

“Oh, please. She already loves me. Look at that face.” Paolo grins as the baby shifts slightly in my arms. “She’s thinking, ‘Uncle Paolo is my favorite.’”

I shake my head, laughing softly, and glance at Rafaele. His hand hasn’t left mine, his unwavering presence my anchor.

Paolo squeezes my shoulder lightly, his smirk softening. “I’ll go tell the nurse you’re up.”

“Thank you,” I whisper to him, my voice trembling with gratitude. “For being here for Rafaele and for me. For everything.”

His gaze warms as he leans down to press a kiss to the top of my head. “Always,” he says before slipping out of the room.

Rafaele and I are left alone, our daughter still nestled between us as we cradle her together.

Rafaele’s lips curl into a soft smile, his thumb brushing over our daughter’s tiny hand as he gazes at her. “I would love to call her something other than ‘baby girl.’ Do you have an idea?”

I hesitate, my eyes dropping to the blanket wrapped around her. My heart races at the thought of saying it aloud, but the name has been sitting in my mind, waiting for the right moment.

“Oh, you do!” he says, his excitement breaking through his usually controlled tone. He leans closer, his face full of warmth and curiosity. “Come on, wife, tell me.”

“Aurora,” I whisper as if saying it louder might shatter the delicate beauty of the name.

“Aurora?” he repeats, his brow lifting in curiosity. “Why?”

I tilt my head, meeting his gaze. My fingers find his free hand, and I lace them together, drawing strength from his touch. “You know when darkness meets light? When the night gives way to the dawn? They meet at the aurora.”

His expression softens in a way that makes my chest ache. He leans forward, his forehead brushing against mine. “I love it,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion. “This is perfect. You’re perfect. And our Aurora…” He glances down at her with awe, his finger tracing the curve of her cheek. “She’s everything.”

“She’s going to be strong, Rafaele,” I whisper. “Like you. Fierce, protective… unstoppable.”

“And compassionate,” he adds, his eyes meeting mine. “Like you. She’ll have your heart, your strength.”

A small smile plays on my lips as I rest my head against his shoulder, but beneath the warmth of the moment, a quiet fear lingers in the pit of my stomach. It claws at me, subtle but insistent—a fear for myself, for our little Aurora, for the fragility of this newfound peace.

“Are we okay?” I ask tentatively, my voice barely audible.

He doesn’t hesitate, his hand resting firmly atop mine, cradling Aurora together as if the three of us were a single, unbreakable unit.

“You’ll never get hurt again.”

I lift my head slightly, meeting his steady gaze. “It’s over?”

He nods, his jaw tightening with resolve. “Sofia’s gone. They’re all gone. It’s finished.”

For a moment, I don’t respond, letting his words settle over me. I don’t need to know the details—how or when. All I need is the certainty in his voice, the unshakable strength of the man who pulled me back from the edge.

“I don’t want to think about that anymore,” I whisper, my voice trembling with the rawness of everything we’ve endured. My eyes drop to Aurora, who stirs slightly in her sleep, her tiny fingers curling into the soft blanket. “Not now. Not with this.”

Rafaele’s gaze softens, the sharpness of his protective edge momentarily replaced with tenderness. He shifts closer, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Then we won’t. That’s the past.”

“Leo?” I ask quietly, unable to suppress the question that’s been on my mind.

A tired but genuine laugh escapes Rafaele, a sound that holds both relief and pride. “Ah, Leo. I got to see a glimpse of the man I always knew he could be these past few days. He really stepped up as I…” He falters slightly, his throat working to steady his tone. “As I lost my way without you. He showed he had the ability I always believed he did, and now… now I think he sees it too.”

I let my head rest against Rafaele’s shoulder again, my nose brushing the crook of his neck, taking in his warmth, his scent, and the undeniable comfort he always brings me.

“We’re okay,” I murmur, more to myself than to him. “Aren’t we?”

“We’re more than okay,” he replies, his lips brushing against my hair. “We’re unbreakable.”

A soft knock interrupts the stillness. The door opens, and Dr. Bennett steps in, his white coat slightly rumpled but his expression calm and reassuring as he offers a warm smile.

“Nora,” he greets, his voice gentle. “It’s good to see you like this.”

Rafaele’s arm tightens protectively around my shoulders, and I feel the tension radiating from him. “How is she?” he asks, his tone steady but laced with that quiet intensity he can never fully hide.

Dr. Bennett pulls up a chair, offering a warm smile. “Nora, you gave us quite a scare, but the good news is you’re here, and so is your daughter.”

I clutch Aurora tighter, my voice trembling. “It was preeclampsia, wasn’t it?”

He nods. “Yes. Your high blood pressure, swelling, and other symptoms pointed to severe preeclampsia. Combined with your lupus and fibromyalgia, it created a perfect storm that made delivery more challenging. But you both came through remarkably well.”

Rafaele’s grip on my shoulder tightens. “And now? What does this mean moving forward?”

Dr. Bennett’s expression softens. “The preeclampsia was a pregnancy-related issue, and your existing conditions make things harder, but with care, we can manage them. With rest, hydration, and monitoring, I’m confident you’ll recover fully. There’s no lasting damage.”

“And Aurora?” I ask, my gaze dropping to her tiny face.

“She’s doing beautifully. Strong and healthy, with no signs of complications from the delivery. She’s perfect.”

Rafaele exhales sharply, kissing my temple. “Thank you. Whatever she needs, I’ll make sure she gets it.”

The doctor rises, his smile reassuring. “Focus on healing and bonding with your daughter. We’ll be here to support you every step of the way.”

“You hear that?” he murmurs, his hand cupping my cheek once the doctor is gone. “You’re strong, amore. Both of you are.”

“And you’re my strength,” I whisper, leaning into his touch.

Aurora stirs slightly in my arms, her tiny hand reaching out as if she knows she’s the center of our world.

It takes two more days for the doctor to allow me to leave the hospital, and I’m practically bouncing with excitement when the car pulls up in front of the house. Before I can even unbuckle my seatbelt, Rafaele is already there, opening my door. His strong arms scoop me up effortlessly, cradling me and Aurora as though we weigh nothing.

“Rafaele, I can walk,” I protest, though my body’s exhaustion betrays me.

“Not a chance,” he replies, his tone firm but warm. “You’re not lifting a finger until I say so.”

I roll my eyes but can’t stop the smile tugging at my lips. Being in his arms, feeling the steady beat of his heart, and seeing the love etched on his face—it’s everything. As he carries us toward the door, I catch sight of Lucia waiting, her eyes shimmering with relief.

“Rafaele, please,” I murmur, glancing at her. “Let me stand.”

He hesitates, his jaw tightening, but finally relents, setting me carefully on my feet. His hands remain at my waist, steadying me as if ready to catch me the second I falter.

I reach out, resting a hand on his chest. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”

He gives me a wary look before stepping back slightly. As soon as he does, Lucia rushes forward, her eyes glistening.

“Nora!” she exclaims, her voice trembling with emotion. She stops short, hesitating, her arms half-raised. “Can I?—?”

“Of course,” I whisper, pulling her into a hug. She holds me tightly, her frame shaking, and I feel her tears dampen my shoulder.

“I was so scared,” she murmurs, her voice cracking. “I thought?—”

“I’m okay,” I reassure her, pulling back to meet her gaze. “Thanks to you and Rafaele. I’m okay.”

She nods, sniffing, and then her eyes drop to Aurora. Her breath catches as she steps back slightly, her hands flying to her mouth. “She’s beautiful.”

“She is,” I reply, my own voice thick with emotion. “And she needs a godmother. Someone fierce, someone brave. Someone like you.”

Lucia stares at me, stunned. “Are you serious?”

“Of course,” I say with a soft smile. “You saved my life, Lucia. I know you’d do anything for her.”

Her tears flow freely now, and she nods quickly. “I’d be honored.”

Aurora stirs, her tiny face scrunching slightly as if in agreement, and we all laugh quietly. Rafaele steps closer, placing a protective hand on Lucia’s shoulder.

“She’s in good hands with you,” he says, his voice unusually tender.

Lucia wipes at her tears, sniffling. “Okay, enough crying. Show me this little angel properly.”

We step inside, and Fate comes bounding toward us, her tail wagging furiously. She stops short of me, her nose twitching as she takes in Aurora. Then, with a soft huff, she tilts her head curiously.

Lucia scoops up Fate, holding her close.

“Oh, sweet girl, I missed you! Here—meet your new best friend.” I step closer, and Aurora’s tiny hand shifts, and Fate licks her fingers gently, making me laugh. “She approves,” I say, looking up at Rafaele, who’s grinning.

“She knows Aurora is part of the family,” he says, scratching behind Fate’s ears. “Good girl.”

We make our way to the kitchen, where Teresa practically bursts into the room. Her face lights up as she spots us. “Oh, here is the little treasure!” she coos, rushing over.

Before I can protest, she ushers me and Lucia into chairs, fussing over us as she brings herbal tea and cookies to the table. “Sit, sit! You’ve been through so much, Nora. Let me take care of you.”

Rafaele steps forward, holding out his hands. “Give me my daughter,” he says with mock seriousness, “and I’ll show her the house while you ladies catch up.”

I smile as I watch him go, Aurora cradled tenderly in his arms.

“He’s so enamored with her,” Lucia says.

“Yes,” I agree, my heart full. “He’s the perfect father. I never doubted he would be.”

Lucia looks down at her tea, her smile fading slightly. “Nora… how are you really?”

I take her hand. “I’m okay, but I want to know how you are.”

She hesitates, then sighs. “It’s hard. Sofia… Aunt Maria… their deaths are difficult to process. I feel guilty sometimes, but I know it was necessary. Loyalty is everything.”

I squeeze her hand. “You’ve been so brave. Don’t carry that unnecessary guilt.”

She nods, her eyes glassy, and I decide to lighten the mood. “You know,” I say with a grin, “you’re going to be Aurora’s godmother. And Paolo’s going to be her godfather. Seems like the perfect excuse for you two to get closer.”

Her cheeks flush, and she shakes her head, laughing. “Nora, stop.”

“What? I’m just saying—you’d make a cute pair.”

Before she can retort, Rafaele reappears, Aurora squirming slightly in his arms. “She’s hungry,” he announces, his gaze softening as he looks at me. “She needs her mamma.”

I glance at Lucia.

“I have to go now, but I’ll come visit you girls tomorrow, okay?”

“Not me?” Rafaele asks, raising an eyebrow. I love this lighter version of my husband and how he opens up to other people in our circle.

Lucia snorts. “As if you could outweigh my girls!” She kisses my cheek before kissing Aurora’s hand. “See you!”

I take Aurora, her tiny weight settling perfectly against me, and Rafaele helps me to the library downstairs to nurse her. After feeding her, I step out, finding Leo waiting in the living room.

He stands awkwardly by the door, his hands shoved into his pockets. His eyes dart toward Aurora, then back to me.

“I, uh, didn’t want to intrude, but?—”

Rafaele claps him on the back. “You’re family. You can never intrude.” He glances at me, his expression softening. “I just need five minutes. I’ll be right back.”

I nod, cradling Aurora closer. “Leo, could you hold her while Rafaele steps out?”

His eyes widen, and he takes a step back, his hands raised. “Me? No way. I’ll drop her or—she’ll cry, or something will?—”

“You’ll be fine. Just sit down.”

He hesitates but eventually lowers himself onto the couch, his hands outstretched awkwardly. Carefully, I place Aurora in his arms, guiding his hands to support her head.

She settles instantly, her tiny hand gripping his finger. His expression softens, wonder replacing his earlier panic. “She’s… she’s so small.”

“And she already loves you,” I say, sitting beside him. “See? Nothing to be scared of.”

Leo swallows hard, his voice thick. “I’m sorry, Nora. For everything. For putting you in danger, for Sofia, for?—”

“There’s no need,” I cut him off, my tone gentle but firm. “You’ve already made amends. You stepped up when it mattered most. That’s what counts.”

He nods, his eyes never leaving Aurora. “Thank you. For giving me a chance to be better.”

When Rafaele returns, he finds us sitting together, Aurora still in Leo’s arms. “I leave for five minutes, and you’re already stealing her,” Rafaele teases, though there’s warmth in his tone as he sets a file on the coffee table.

Leo grins sheepishly and carefully hands Aurora back to me. “She’s all yours.” He stands, picking up the file. “I’ll deal with these shipments. You spend time with your beautiful wife and daughter.”

Rafaele clasps his shoulder firmly. “Thank you, Leo. For everything.”

Leo nods, his expression softening. “I’ll see you both in the morning.” He glances once more at Aurora before heading out, leaving the room quiet except for the faint creak of the door closing behind him.

I cradle Aurora closer, her tiny body warm and comforting against mine. Rafaele sinks onto the couch beside me, and wraps his arm around my shoulders. For a moment, we sit in silence, letting the stillness settle around us like a soft blanket.

“You should take some time off,” I murmur, with my gaze fixed on Aurora. “For real this time.”

He chuckles, low and deep, and presses a kiss to my temple. “I think I will. Starting tonight.”

The nursery is quiet, bathed in soft golden light from the lamp beside the rocking chair. I sit there now, Aurora nestled in my arms as she feeds, her tiny fingers brushing against my skin. Rafaele leans against the doorframe, his arms crossed but his gaze soft, full of love.

“She’s perfect,” I whisper, running a finger gently along Aurora’s cheek.

“She is,” Rafaele agrees, stepping closer. He crouches beside us, resting his head against my knee, his hand lightly stroking Aurora’s back. “Just like her mother.”

I smile, my heart full to bursting. “You’re biased.”

“Completely,” he admits, and his lips curve into a smile. “And unapologetically so.”

Aurora finishes feeding, her little body going slack as she falls asleep. Rafaele carefully lifts her from my arms and cradles her against his chest. The sight of him holding her—the man who once thought he was incapable of love, now so tender and devoted—makes my throat tighten with emotion.

“She’s so lucky to have you,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he says, shaking his head. “We’re the lucky ones.”

I watch as he places her gently in the crib, his movements careful, reverent. He stands there for a moment, just looking at her, before turning back to me.

“Come here,” he says softly, holding out his hand.

I take it, letting him pull me to my feet. He wraps his arms around me, pressing a kiss to my forehead. “This is everything,” he murmurs. “You, her, us. This is my whole world.”

Tears well in my eyes as I rest my head against his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart. “I love you, Rafaele.”

“And I love you, Nora. Always.”

We stand there together, watching over our daughter, and for the first time in what feels like forever, the future doesn’t feel so daunting. It feels full of promise, of hope, of love.

And it’s ours.