Page 25

The harsh fluorescent lights of the hospital corridor sting my eyes as I pace outside the exam room. The sharp smell of antiseptic hangs in the air, mingling with the distant murmur of voices and the occasional chime of a nurse’s station. In my arms, Alyssa clings to me tightly, her small fingers gripping my shirt as though I might disappear if she lets go.

Leo is inside with the doctor, Chiara by his side, and the minutes feel like hours. Alyssa hasn’t spoken since we arrived, her wide eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“It’s going to be alright,” I murmur to her, my voice low and steady. I press a kiss to the top of her head, trying to reassure her as much as myself.

“Leo’s brave, isn’t he, Papa?” she asks softly, her voice trembling.

“He’s the bravest,” I reply, brushing her hair back gently.

The door to the exam room opens, and Chiara steps out. Her face is pale, her hands trembling as she clutches them to her chest. She looks at me, and for a moment, I see something in her eyes that I don’t recognize—fear.

“He’s burning up,” she says, her voice cracking. “The doctor says he has a fever. What if—”

I close the distance between us quickly, handing Alyssa to one of the nurses who’s been hovering nearby. Before Chiara can spiral further, I take her hands in mine, squeezing them gently but firmly.

“Chiara,” I say, my voice calm but unyielding. “Nothing will happen to him. Do you hear me?”

She looks at me, her breathing uneven, and shakes her head. “But what if—”

“No,” I interrupt, pulling her closer. “Look at me.”

Her eyes lock on to mine, wide and filled with tears.

“Leo is strong. He’s going to be fine,” I say, each word deliberate. “I promise you. Nothing will happen to him.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her body trembling as she leans into me. I wrap my arms around her, holding her tightly. “I’ve got you,” I murmur, my voice softening. “We’ll get through this together.”

For a moment, she clings to me, her head resting against my chest. It’s the first time I’ve seen her so vulnerable, and it stirs something deep inside me—a need to protect her, to take her fear and make it my own.

The doctor emerges then, clipboard in hand, his expression calm but focused. I feel Chiara stiffen in my arms, and I keep one hand on her shoulder as we step forward.

“How is he?” I ask, my voice steady despite the tension coiling in my chest.

The doctor gives a reassuring smile. “He’s going to be alright,” he says. “His arm is fractured, but it’s not a severe break. A cast will help it heal quickly.”

Chiara exhales sharply, her grip on my arm tightening. “And the fever?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper.

“It’s likely a bug,” the doctor explains. “His temperature was high enough to make him dizzy, which could have caused his fall. We’ve given him something to bring it down, and he’s responding well. He’ll need rest and fluids, but there’s no cause for alarm.”

The weight in my chest eases, but Chiara’s shoulders remain tense. I glance at her, the relief in her expression tempered by lingering worry.

“Can we see him?” she asks, her voice soft but urgent.

“Of course,” the doctor says. “He’s already asking for you both.”

I nod, thanking the doctor before guiding Chiara back into the room. Alyssa follows close behind, her little hand slipping into mine as we step inside.

Leo looks small in the hospital bed, his arm now in a bright blue cast and a soft blanket tucked up to his chest. His cheeks are flushed from the fever, but his eyes light up when he sees us.

“Mama! Papa!” he says, his voice hoarse but excited.

Chiara rushes to his side, kneeling by the bed and stroking his hair. “I’m here, sweetheart,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “How are you feeling?”

“Better,” he says, though he looks drowsy. “The doctor said I get to keep this.” He holds up his cast, his small smile making my chest tighten.

Alyssa climbs onto the bed carefully, sitting beside him and pointing at his cast. “It’s blue! That’s my favorite color!”

“It’s my favorite now too,” Leo replies with a tired grin.

Chiara presses a kiss to his forehead, her hand lingering on his cheek as though she needs the reassurance of his warmth. I step closer, resting a hand on her shoulder.

“See?” I say softly, meeting her gaze. “He’s already bouncing back.”

She nods, though her eyes glisten with unshed tears. “I was so scared,” she admits quietly.

“I know,” I reply, my voice steady. “He’s alright. You both are.”

We stay with Leo for a while, Alyssa chattering softly to keep him entertained while Chiara remains by his side. Her worry eases little by little, replaced by the fierce determination I’ve come to admire in her.

By the time the nurses return to check on him, Leo is asleep, his small body relaxed against the pillows. Alyssa stifles a yawn, leaning into Chiara’s side, and I lift her gently into my arms.

“Let’s let him rest,” I say, nodding toward the door.

Chiara hesitates, glancing back at Leo one last time before standing. I keep an arm around her as we leave the room, the other hand holding Alyssa, the warmth of their presence grounding me in a way I didn’t expect.

As we walk down the hall, Alyssa nestled against my chest, I glance at Chiara. Her gaze is forward, her expression thoughtful but calm.

“You handled that well,” I say softly.

She looks at me, a faint smile tugging at her lips. “I think you’re giving me too much credit.”

“I’m not,” I reply firmly, my hand brushing hers as we walk. “You’re stronger than you realize, Chiara.”

Her smile lingers, and for the first time tonight, I feel like everything will be alright.

***

The house is quiet again, the chaos of the hospital visit replaced by a deep stillness. Alyssa is asleep in her bed, her stuffed rabbit clutched tightly in her arms, and Leo hasn’t stirred since we brought him back from the hospital. The night is peaceful, but my mind isn’t.

I head downstairs, the faint hum of the refrigerator and the occasional creak of the old floorboards the only sounds accompanying me. When I enter the kitchen, I find Chiara already there, leaning against the counter with a cup of tea in her hands. Her hair is loose, tumbling over her shoulders, and her expression is thoughtful, tinged with exhaustion.

She looks up when I enter, her eyes meeting mine. “Couldn’t sleep?” she asks softly.

I shake my head, moving to the counter to pour myself a glass of water. “Not after everything tonight.”

She nods, her fingers tightening around the cup. “It’s hard to stop thinking about them, isn’t it? Even when they’re fine.”

I lean against the counter across from her, studying her. There’s something in her tone, a depth of emotion that feels heavier than usual. “The kids are tougher than they look,” I say, trying to reassure her. “Leo will bounce back. Alyssa… well, she’s already planning what color she wants for her cast when she breaks her arm next.”

Chiara lets out a soft laugh, though it quickly fades, her gaze dropping to her tea. “They’re doing so much better now,” she murmurs. “Since we’ve been here. Since you’ve been with them.”

I pause, surprised by her words. “They’ve always been strong.”

“Yes,” she agrees, looking up at me. “They’re happier now. They laugh more. They smile more. It’s because of you, Serge.”

Her voice wavers slightly, and I step closer, unsure how to respond. “I’m their father,” I say simply. “That’s what I’m supposed to do.”

“It’s more than that,” she insists, setting her cup down and wrapping her arms around herself. “I was so scared of letting them get close to you. Scared of letting you get close to me. Seeing them with you… I can’t deny how much better their lives are now. How much better our lives are.”

Her words hang in the air, and I cross the space between us, standing just in front of her. “Why were you so scared, Chiara?” I ask, my voice low.

She hesitates, her lips parting as if to speak, but she shakes her head instead. I gently place my hand on her arm, urging her to look at me.

“Tell me,” I say softly. “Whatever it is, just tell me.”

Her eyes glisten as she meets my gaze, and she exhales shakily. “Because I tried to kill you,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

I freeze, the words hitting me like a blow. “What?” I ask, though I already know what she’s referring to.

“Four years ago,” she continues, her voice trembling. “The poison. It wasn’t just about my father or his plans. It was me, Serge. I made the choice to follow through.”

I take a step back, my hand falling away from her arm. “Why?” I ask, my tone sharper now, though the hurt beneath it surprises even me. “Why would you do that?”

“Because you were getting too close,” she says, tears slipping down her cheeks. “You made me feel things I didn’t want to feel. You made me think that maybe… maybe I could have something with you, and it terrified me.”

I stare at her, her words sinking in. “So you tried to kill me because you felt something for me,” I say flatly, the bitterness in my voice undeniable.

She nods, wiping her cheeks roughly. “I thought I could escape it. Escape you. Even when I left, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Now… being here, seeing you with the twins, seeing how much you care for them… for me….”

She trails off, her voice breaking, and I step forward again, cupping her face in my hands. “Did you fall in love with me?” I ask, my voice low and steady.

Her eyes widen slightly, and for a long moment, she’s silent. Then, slowly, she nods, her voice barely audible. “Yes. I did.”

The weight of her confession settles over us, and something inside me cracks open. “Chiara,” I murmur, leaning closer. “I’ve been in love with you for longer than I want to admit.”

Her breath catches, and I don’t wait for her to respond. I press my lips to hers, the kiss deep and slow, filled with everything we’ve been holding back for years. She melts into me, her hands gripping my shirt as though afraid I’ll pull away.

When we finally break apart, her forehead rests against mine, her breathing unsteady. “I’m sorry,” she whispers, her voice thick with emotion. “For everything.”

I shake my head, brushing my thumb across her cheek. “It’s in the past. We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

She nods, her tears slowing as she leans into my touch. “I love you,” she says softly, the words trembling but sure.

“I love you,” I reply, my voice steady. “We’re going to make this work, Chiara. For us. For the kids. For everything we’ve built.”

She smiles, small but genuine, and I pull her into my arms, holding her close as the first rays of dawn begin to light the sky. For the first time in years, I feel like we’re finally on the same path—together.