The Mafia’s Forbidden Desire

ROSALINDA

I wouldn’t lose Sofia. I wouldn’t lose Sofia. I wouldn’t lose Sofia. I kept chanting on the way to the hospital to avoid imagining extremely terrible scenarios. Scenarios that were threatening to make my heart jump out of my chest just at the thought.

The perturbed expression on my parents faces when we got to the hospital made my heart break even further. I hated to see them that way.

“Mama, Papa.” I called as I sank into their arms at once, my eyes streaming with tears.

Pulling away from them and searching for answers in their faces, I asked. “How is she? Where is she?”

Papa sighed, and Mama was completely quiet. This was bad, I thought, as the fear gripping me by the throat squeezed even tighter.

“How is she?” I asked again, impatiently.

“The doctors said they would have to evacuate the babies now.” Papa finally answered.

Oh, no. She was only seven months along.

“Why? Would they survive? Sofia? The babies?”

He nodded, and a sense of relief coursed through me, though, the worries that burdened my entire being still weighed heavily.

“What exactly happened?” I demanded.

“The doctors said she developed preeclampsia.”

Confusion saturated my face as I wondered what that was.

Before I could ask, he continued, expounding. “It’s a complication with the pregnancy which is marked by high blood pressure and potential harm to other organs. They have to be evacuated now in order to save the mother and children.”

Oh, no. I shook my head, an intense pain consuming my whole being. That sounded bad. Really bad. I didn’t want to lose my sister.

“Where is she?!” Oliver’s impatient voice suddenly pierced through the air, and I turned to see him running towards us.

Stopping in front of us, panting heavily, he asked again. “Where is she?”

“In the theatre,” Papa replied.

“What? what-happened? How-” he blew out a breath, struggling to form coherent words.

Papa told him the exact same thing he told me, and the worries saturating his features intensified.

“Oh, God. No. No.” He groaned with so much pain, stomping his foot hard on the floor. “No!”

I felt his pain. I knew exactly what he was going through because we bore the weight of similar sorrows. They were his wife-to-be and unborn children, while they were my sister and nieces. The mere thought of losing them was unbearable.

Inching closer to him, I wrapped my arms around him in a comforting hug. “They’ll be fine.” I told him, desperately hoping my words were true.

After a few seconds, he pulled away from the hug and muttered, unable to look me in the eyes. “I need to be alone right now.”

He turned around immediately and walked away, but I didn’t miss the lone tear that escaped his eyes while he did so.

This was a dark time- a very dark time, and we weren’t prepared for this. I never thought a day would come where I would be scared of losing Sofia. My only sister. The very thought of that unleashed a fear that tightened its grip on my chest, squeezing even further, the heavy burden saturating to my throat, up to my eyes, and forcing itself out in the form of tears.

“No. No. No.” I shook my head vigorously.

Antonio, who had been standing beside me and watching me all along, wrapped his arm around me, and I pressed my head into the comfort of his chest as I allowed myself to let out all the tears stinging behind my eyes.

“I don’t want to lose her.” I cried.

He rubbed my back soothingly. “You won’t.”

We stayed in the hospital all night with Antonio never leaving my side, not even for a second, making sure I didn’t lose my mind. Or maybe I did? Because they took too long in that damn theater, and for every second I waited, a strand of my sanity was snapped.

I prayed, waited, and hoped Sofia and her babies would survive.

Giovanni and Matteo came much later, as they hadn’t returned home early and weren’t aware of the news. The worries that masked their features were unmistaken. We were all tensed, anticipating the doctors exit from the theatre to announce the outcome of the surgery. The wait was driving me crazy.

I didn’t know how long it took before the doctors finally came out. Oliver was the first to notice their exit from the operating theatre, and he rushed towards them, with the rest of us following suit.

“How is she? How are my babies?” Oliver asked impatiently.

One of them, who I assumed to be the one in charge, directed his gaze at Papa as he spoke. “It was a tough but successful surgery.”

A part of the heavy burden weighting down on me was lifted, but the most significant part of the weight still persisted-not until I saw them with my own eyes and confirmed they were okay. To confirm that my sister and her babies survived. To confirm that I could see them again, alive.

“Can we see them now?” I quickly asked.

“No.” He shook his head. “She’s not awake yet.”

“When would she wake up?” I asked and tensed.

“We don’t know yet. But I can assure you that her vitals are stable.” The doctors walked away from us after that, and the fear that consumed my chest still lingered.

“You all look like a mess. You should go home and rest.” Matteo suggested, darting his gaze between all of us with his face scrunched up.

“No.” I was the first to protest. “I would stay here until she wakes up.”

“Don’t you think you’ll scare her if she wakes up to see you like this?” Giovanni asked, clicking his tongue over the roof of his mouth and shaking his head as he stared at my pitiful figure. “Go home, Rosa. Take some rest. I’ll call you when she wakes up.”

“He’s right.” Antonio chimed in, wrapping his arm around my shoulders. “You need to rest.”

As if compelled, I nodded in agreement. Antonio always had a way of getting through me, making me do whatever he wanted me to do. Was this respect? Or just obsession?

The drive home was long and quiet. Once we arrived, he didn’t allow me to walk by myself as he carried me and walked all the way to our room with me in his arms. He helped me shower afterwards, treating me like an egg or like a queen, as he had promised.

I was completely drained from crying and worrying all through the night, and he was helping me get through the dark ordeal, making me love him harder, even to a dangerous extent. There was nothing-nothing at all-that I wouldn’t do for this man.

After showering, he carried me into his arms and began to walk out of the bathroom.

“I can walk.” I told him.

“I know.” He replied. “I just chose to make it easier for you.”

He carefully laid me on the bed and tucked me inside the duvet.

“I’m scared.” I poured out my feelings, staring directly into his concerned eyes.

“I know.” He said, stroking my hair with his fingers. “Everything’s going to be okay.”

“I hope so.” I whispered.

As I stared at him, something that was pushed to the deepest part of my mind after I heard the news about Sofia suddenly surfaced. Holding his hand in mine, I muttered, my voice barely audible. “I don’t think we can get married today anymore.”

“I know.” He responded softly, caressing my cheek. “Be it today, tomorrow, in weeks, months, or even years, I don’t care. The only thing that matters is that you’re mine, and I will always be here for you, Rosalinda. Always.”

My lips managed to curl into a smile, my entire being resonating with him. “Thank you.”

He leaned in and kissed my forehead. “Thank you too. For coming into my life.”

I didn’t say anything afterwards; I just kept staring at him with my heart swelling with love. The more I stared at him, the more I realised how just fine he looked, as if he hadn’t stayed up all night with me at the hospital.

“Used to staying up all night, uh?” I remarked, and he nodded with a small smile.This text is property of Nô/velD/rama.Org.

“Show off.” I scoffed.

He stroked my hair with his fingers. “Get some rest, Rosalinda.”

“You too.” I drawled. Sleep was starting to whisk me away.

He shook his head. “I have work to do.”

I couldn’t remember if I replied to him before sleep finally whisked me away. His presence brought a sense of peace deep beneath the worries that enveloped me.