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“For being stupid. For going to Theo’s without you.”
His jaw clenches, but his hand is gentle when he reaches up and smooths a finger over my cheek. I close my eyes and snuggle into his touch. “Not stupid,” he says softly. “Reckless.”
I swallow thickly and open my eyes.
“How are you feeling?”
I reach up and run my fingers over my temple. “My head hurts.” My fingers move to the bandage on my cheek before dropping to his chest. I don’t tell him about the aches in the rest of my body, worried he’ll get up.
“The doctor says the bruising on your head isn’t anything serious. You’ll have a headache for a while, but it’ll fade.” The muscles in his neck strain and his eyes turn hard. “No major injuries, just sore muscles and a few other bruises.” He pauses and pulls in a ragged breath. “You scared the shit out of me, Jules,” he rumbles throatily.
My eyes run over his features again. I did scare him. It’s written all over his face, and I hate the pained look in his eyes and the tenseness in his body. He says I wasn’t stupid, but I disagree. I should have known better. I never should have gone there on my own.
“I remember everything.” I swallow. “Everything, Luca. I remember what led to my coma. It wasn’t you. It was Theo. He came to the house and attacked me. He was the one who raped me.” Luca tenses, pure rage flashing in his eyes. I press deeper into him. “And… I’m not married to him.” My voice cracks. Before I can continue, Luca does it for me.
“You’re married to me.”
A flash of a memory of sitting on Luca’s lap on the couch and telling him we’re married before I blacked out comes to mind. I swallow and nod.
“I remember too,” he whispers.
More tears gather in my eyes and plunge down my cheeks. “You do?”
The smile he gives me lifts my spirits better than anything ever could. To know that he remembers as well makes me incredibly happy. It makes it more real, when before it was almost too good to be true.
The good feeling doesn’t last long though when I remember something else. Something that he couldn’t possibly know.
My head is starting to pound harder from holding my head up, so I climb from his lap, but still stick close to him. When he gets up from the bed, I reach for his hand. “No!” I pull in a breath, trying to rein in my panic at the thought of him leaving, and lower my voice. “Please stay.”
His understanding eyes meet mine, but he doesn’t get back on the bed. Instead, he hooks a chair with his foot and drags it closer until it’s right beside the bed before taking a seat.
“I’m not going anywhere, except right here, but you need more room.”
I don’t like it. I really really don’t like it, but as long as I still have a link to him through our hands, I’ll manage. After being with him for such a short time seven years ago, the strong instant connection we shared, the feeling of rightness, of belonging, then having it snatched away, both by Theo’s actions and Luca’s and my memory loss, the thought of not touching him scares me. No, it terrifies me. We just found each other again, and I’m so damn scared it’s all a dream, and I’ll wake and it’ll be gone.
I nod reluctantly but tighten my grip on his hand. He’s so close to the bed that his hard chest is pressed to the edge, as if he knows I’m on the edge of hysterics and keeping himself as close to me as he can. His arms lie along my side and hip, and I curl my knees up until they touch his ribs. Some of the anxiety subsides when he lifts my hand, kisses the back, and rests both of ours against his heart. The action makes it easier to get out what I say next.
“There’s something else I need to tell you. The day Theo came to the house….” I stop and pull in a painful breath at the reminder. “I was going to tell you when you came and got me.” I hold his eyes, my pain no doubt showing through. “I was pregnant.”
His body jerks and his eyes close. Agony mars his features and it makes my own heartache double. The day I found out I was pregnant, that very same day, was the best one of my life, with the day we got married a very close second. We had talked about having children, had planned to wait until after I graduated college and we moved back here, but I have no doubt he would have been just as deliriously happy as I was. We were that much in love.
I couldn’t wait to tell him and see the happiness in his eyes. That moment was stolen from us. Stolen in the most brutal of ways. I’ve never wished for someone to die before, and it may make me a bad person for wishing it now, but I do. I wish Theo to the deepest, darkest bowels of hell.
“I’m so sorry, Jules. I’m so goddamn sorry,” he says hoarsely. “If I had—”
“Don’t,” I cry. “Please don’t.” He opens his eyes. I shake my head and move our linked hands from his heart to place them over mine. “You had no way of knowing. Don’t you dare take the blame for something he did.”
He nods, but I still see he’s fighting the guilt. It makes me so angry that Theo has taken so much from us. So much time and caused us so much heartache.
Luca leans back from the bed to pull something from his back pocket. He sets it down beside our joined hands. Immense pain settles in my chest and my hand flies to my mouth to smother my gasp when I look down at the sonogram. My eyes sail to his and see his pain mirroring mine. My hand shakes as I pick up the image. I got it the day I found out I was pregnant. I was only a few weeks along, so they had to do an internal sonogram. The picture only shows a small blip of something, but it’s still the very first image of our baby, so I cherished it. So much happened that day. We were both given so much, only for it to be ripped away.
“I was so excited to show you this,” I say chokily. “Wh-where did you find it?”
“Kale. He found it with the papers on the bedroom floor at Theo’s. He thought I might want it, so he brought to me.”
“This was our baby.” I desperately wipe away the tear that falls on the delicate paper. I bring it to my lips and kiss right on the spot where the little bean rests.
I take a moment to gather myself before looking back at him. Anxiety, fear, and hope give me the jitters.
