Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 70928 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 70928 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 355(@200wpm)___ 284(@250wpm)___ 236(@300wpm)
Inside of me, there’s a relentless longing and deep sorrow, while on the outside, I can only stare at the jacket in my hands. My thumb brushes over the blood that’s still wet.
Christiano.
Having lost all sense of time or where I am, I can only stare at the jacket.
Suddenly, I’m grabbed by my shoulders and pulled back to my feet. When Augusto says something, I can’t make out his words because it sounds like I’m underwater.
Even though people are rushing around the hospital, it feels like I’m moving in slow motion as Augusto leads me somewhere.
Time warps even more until my breathing begins to slow down. The ruthless sharpness of the grief swirling in my soul lessens slightly, and a heavy, floating sensation creeps through my mind.
“You’ll feel better soon.” I hear Mom’s voice, her hands gripping one of mine. “Mamma’s here.”
The fogginess makes it difficult for me to think, and I fight it for what feels like hours before I’m able to start making sense of the sounds around me.
I notice I’m sitting on a chair by the nurses’ station, and Mom is with me.
“Hey, sweetie,” she coos. “Are you feeling better?”
My sight focuses on her worried face, and while my mind becomes a little clearer, I remember that I’ve lost Christiano, and acute grief changes my entire world from colorful to pitch black.
A weird sensation creeps through me as I stare at Mom, and slowly the unbearable ache and sense of loss diminish until I feel nothing.
Somehow, I manage to switch off my emotions because facing the devastating reality that Christiano is dead is not something I can deal with.
Mom’s eyebrows knit together as her worry increases. “Sienna?”
My lips part, and my speech is delayed before I say, “Yes.”
“Are you okay, sweetie?”
The few seconds of numbness passes and all the anguish, panic, fear, and desperate longing explode through me once again.
Augusto comes rushing around the counter. “We can see him. Come.” My brother grabs my arm and pulls me to my feet, and like a robot, I let him drag me to one of the private rooms where it’s not as chaotic.
Stepping inside, my gaze lands on the bed, and when I see Christiano, I’m flung from one extreme emotion to the next.
My feet refuse to move any further, and my heart struggles to catch up to the realization that he didn’t die.
The corner of Christiano’s mouth lifts, his eyes filled with life and the intensity I’ve been trying to get used to for the past three months.
“Come here,” he says, the deep sound of his voice washing over me.
Augusto nudges me, and I automatically walk closer to the bed. Instead of happiness, fear spreads through me like a cancer. It eats away at every good thing I’ve ever experienced, leaving me with nothing but the thought that I could’ve lost Christiano today.
Somewhere deep inside of me, a vital piece of my sanity fractures, and even as my eyes roam over his strikingly handsome face, it doesn’t heal.
I can still lose him. All it will take is one bullet.
The cracks in my mind grow because the pain I felt when I thought he was dead is something I never want to experience again. It will kill me.
When I stop beside the bed, Christiano takes hold of my left hand. I feel the warmth of his skin and the strength in his grip, but it doesn’t ease the turbulent storm raging inside me.
I watch as he presses a kiss to my bare ring finger, then he opens his other hand, and when I see the engagement ring, my eyes widen slightly. Panic seizes my heart, causing it to beat faster.
“I’m sorry the engagement party was ruined,” Christiano says, and even though he’s in a hospital bed, he doesn’t look any less dangerous.
Just as he positions the ring by my fingertip, I rip my hand away. The shock of what I’ve just done ripples through the air, and Christiano’s eyes instantly narrow on my face.
Shit.
“Ahh…” Teetering on the edge of insanity, I frantically search for a believable reason to explain my behavior, and I latch onto the first thing I can think of. “Not here.” A nervous chuckle escapes me, and I lean over him to adjust his pillows. “You need to focus on getting better.”
Jesus, I can hear the panic in my voice. I need to calm down.
My eyes dart over the room as the need to run almost overwhelms me.
Leaning down again, I press a kiss to his cheek before I say, “Get some sleep. I’m going to check on the others.”
As I rush toward the door where Augusto and Mom are standing, I do my best to look normal and not batshit crazy.
“Sienna,” Christiano snaps, making my feet come to an instant halt. With shaky movements, I glance over my shoulder as he asks, “What’s wrong?”