Chapter 25 Gemma

Everything is moving in slow motion as I watch Antonio put too many bouquets of flowers into one area of my hospital room. Memories of the crash are fleeting, but from what I’ve been told, I’m waking up after being in a coma for nearly nine weeks.

All the events from that day come back to me in flashes. The doctors clear me to check out after a week of physical therapy to ensure I have full control of my faculties.

“Can we compost the dying flowers and gift the vibrant ones to other people in this wing?” I ask Antonio.

“How about I compost all of these bouquets, and I’ll pay for a fresh batch go out to everyone, nurses, patients, everyone who makes this hospital work seamlessly?”

I give him a smile of approval as he leaves the table full of roses and my doctor comes in. She’s a sweet woman and hands me a card with an appointment for the following week after she gives the approval to discharge me from the hospital.

Antonio is sweeter than sin as he cares for me and helps me put my clothes on to leave. Every touch is delicate, and I have to admit, also mildly annoying.

“You don't have to be so careful with me," I tell him.

He’s bent over, helping me step into a pair of sweatpants when he shifts his gaze up to mine and says, “You didn't see what I saw. Just let me do this much."

I’ll question him about that later. Until I can recall everything that happened, I won't diminish anything he’s feeling right now. Memories come back to me in bursts of visions but quickly fade and blend into dreams of utter ridiculousness. I hate being unable to trust my own mind and all the uncertainty makes my nose burn and tears fall.

Antonio stands straight up and takes my face into his hands, assuring me, “It’s okay. I promise you that everything is going to be okay. I’m so happy you came back. I thought I lost you.”

“I still can’t believe I was out for so long.”

He silences me with a kiss. It’s soft, tender, and slow to the point of jogging my memory of how much I’ve missed Antonio’s touch. The way he makes me feel has my body aching for pleasurable release. I can’t stop myself from reaching for his left hand.

The bandages are gone and the bruising no longer exists. I stroke it, but all I get is a timid grin of gratitude. The pained expression of lust is nowhere to be seen.

“Let’s wait until we get home, babe,” Antonio says as he lowers his mouth to capture mine.

I know he’s placating me, but still, feeling his firm lips and soft tongue exploring my mouth again is creating a new memory of us. I don’t remember my body without his touch.

Antonio takes his time helping me through the hospital after I refuse a wheelchair because my legs still work. I’m grateful to have all of my faculties having been in a coma for a while. There’s no time like the present to show my resilience. While I believe no one is expecting me to be at full capacity, I find myself pushing to be a stronger version of who I was before I crashed into the bay.

Once we reach the large revolving door of the hospital entrance, I find myself trembling at the idea of going outside.

“I’m not ready,” I whisper to Antonio as he ushers me into the thruway.

He stops, waits, then turns to face me. The way those devil-arched eyebrows nestle over his soft green eyes are a stark reminder of the man who loves me. Wait a minute...

Loves me?

Why do I feel that?

Why do I know that feeling to be true?

If I’ve been in a coma, dreaming of him and his tentacle dick as a figment of my imagination, why does it feel indisputable that his love for me is absolute?

Before he can say anything to coax me to leave this building, I stop him as if no one else is around us. The sounds of people meandering through the soft eggshell white hallways of the hospital don’t mean anything when I stop to look at him in those eyes I’ve grown to adore in my dreams.

“Do you love me, Antonio?” I ask him while searching his eyes for the answer before his lips can reply.

“I love you more than anyone I’ve ever loved before in my life,” he admits with his eyes on the ground. A breath catches in my throat. I don’t know what to say. I don’t know if I’m ready to say that back.

However, when he lifts his gaze to meet mine, I feel every aching pang of guilt and love intwining with his words when he says, “I could never love anyone the way I love you. When they put you under, I loved you. When they said they couldn’t wake you, I loved you. When it was a possibility you’d never wake up, I loved you. And I know no one will ever fill the place that I’ve carved out of my heart for you.”

I’m speechless from his proclamation and allow him to lead me outside where a brand-new SUV is waiting at the curb. It’s the perfect time to get my mind off this Pandora’s Box of emotion I just opened.

The attendant at the podium hurries toward us with the keys in hand and an expression of utter delight stretching across his face as he says, “Dr. Calisi, here are the keys. If you need anything else, please let me know.”

Antonio nods as he tips the valet with a few bills and leads me to a car that’s far too expensive to be a rental. A shiny black SUV with tints so dark, the NYPD would fly across the country to give me a ticket.

“I see someone’s been shopping.” I smile as he helps me into the passenger seat.

“It’s yours,” he says before walking to the driver’s side and taking me home to his condo.

“What do you mean, it’s mine?” I ask with a smile spreading across my face while running my hands over the dashboard. The new car smell swarms around me. It’s immaculately clean, and the leather is so soft to the touch.

“Natalie came back here to handle the insurance stuff. Your car was totaled. Damian said he’d take care of her transportation, and I agreed to take care of yours. If you don’t like it, I can take you to buy something different.”

“No, this is beautiful. Thank you, Antonio.” I don’t want to be ungrateful, but it’s a reminder that life went on while I was sleeping mostly peacefully after surviving a horrific car crash.

He grins and picks up my hand to kiss the back of it. We drive in silence with the music playing as my mind wanders endlessly. Visions of traffic lights and pedestrians remind me of the world I left behind.

When we get back to Antonio’s place, his bed is sitting in the center of the living room. His sofa is in the loft and things look awkwardly frustrating.

“I haven’t had a chance to put everything back,” he says.

I grab his hands. “It’s okay. I can only imagine what you were going through. Does anyone know what happened to my car?”

“The police are dragging their feet a bit, but we’re supposed to be getting a report back soon. Those two boxes have everything that was in your car. Your phone and bag are in the office. How are you feeling?” he asks.

“I feel more like myself and being able to walk around is something I didn’t realize I could take for granted. I was pulled out of that wreck with a few bruises and a punctured lung. Things are a bit fuzzy, but I’m happy to be home.”

Antonio embraces me with his voice low, “I’m happy you’re home, too. I just want you to know that no matter what happens, I’ll be here for you. I meant every word of what I said earlier. I love you because with you I feel safe enough to sleep through the night. You don’t have to say anything. If you don’t feel the same way, that’s okay, too. I just wanted you to know I’m going to work on myself so this stops.” He gestures to the living room where his bed is facing the large windows with sweeping views, and I rest my head on his shoulder.

“I think this is a great spot to fall asleep.”

He kisses the top of my head before shuffling into the kitchen. “I’m going to make you a huge dinner. Eggplant parmesan, roasted carrots, chicken cutlets, a salad, and some garlic bread.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“Rest and relax. Let me take care of dinner.”

I don’t argue because the bed is in the living room. Antonio’s stress levels must have been through the roof these past few weeks. For now, I’ll let him do what makes him feel better, and it doesn’t hurt that the man can cook.

The two boxes holding everything that was in my car snag my attention and I make myself comfortable to go through them. Shoes, a blanket, changes of clothes for both me and Natalie. I’m going to miss sharing a car with her.

There’s a small box sitting inside that triggers the memory right before the crash. I was driving to an international delivery service to get rid of it. I pull it out and curiosity gets the better of me. I’m certain that if this was from Natalie’s parents, she would have said as much to Antonio.

When I open the box, there’s a broken angel figurine. One from my mother’s collection and my heart sinks. There’s a business card for a restaurant with a date and time that I’m eight weeks late for.