Page 105 of Fractured
Isabella slowly comes around, and she starts talking in German again, trying to kick off the covers. Anna holds her hand over her mouth when she sees Isabella is pregnant. She bursts into tears and puts her hand on her tummy.
Isabella has a fever, and her face is covered in sweat. Her hair sticking to her forehead. And Anna wipes it away with a cool cloth Danny brought from the bathroom. For some reason, she recognizes Anna’s voice, and Isabella starts to speak to her in German again and starts crying, hugging her friend so tightly. She missed her. She missed her so much. Another thing I can’t forgive myself for. I separated her from the one person who loves her.
Doctor Andrews comes and checks Isabella over. She has pneumonia. I asked about the baby, and he said the baby is fine. We just have to be careful of the fever and not let it get too high. It should break in a couple of days, but they can’t really give her much with the baby. Just make her drink and keep her full of liquids. If she gets dehydrated, he’ll come back and put in an IV.
Anna stays with Isabella, trying to keep her calm. She fought, trying to break away, and it killed me when she was trying to explain to Anna why she had kept the baby from me. She thinks I’m going to take the baby away, but I won’t. I’ll never take anything away from her again. I can’t listen to her confession to Anna. It’s ripping me apart.
I go out to the living room and tell everybody what’s happening. My father hugs me, saying he’s glad that we finally found her. Sebastian asks if he can see her, and I tell him to sit with her. Like me, he needs to see she is okay. Carlos is just as exhausted as I am and is sitting on the couch, staring into the fire. Her words to us both replaying over in our heads. I can see it on his face, and there is nothing we can say to fix the mistrust she has in us.
Christopher brings us all a cup of coffee from the kitchen, but he has to return to the club. Three months ago, I signed it over to him. I’m like a silent partner, but I don’t want it anymore. I don’t need it anymore.
Danny comes out with Anna wrapped up in his arms. She’s been crying again. “She’s exhausted. I’m going to sit with her on the couch and let her get some sleep. Go be with her. I’ll watch out here. Yell, if anything changes and you need Dr. Andrews.”
Carlos heads out to the main house, everyone leaving now that we have her home and she’s safe. I turn and head back into her bedroom. My heart pounds so fast when I stop at the entrance and look at her. She is here, where I can see her and touch her. Crossing the room and slowly sliding in beside her on top of the covers, I hold her close.
My little bunny is so pale, sweat covers her forehead, her breathing is heavy and ragged, but she’s settled now. Every emotion comes flooding in and my throat closes up, my eyes burn. I can’t lose her now that I’ve got her back. She stirs in my arms, and she tries to roll over, almost falling out of the bed. I roll her back and she blinks, looking up at me.
“What is it? What do you need, baby?”
She closes her eyes and slowly opens them, trying to look at me, her pupils are blown, and I know she can’t see clearly and then she licks her lips.
It clicks, “Water? You need some water?” She nods slightly, still staring at me, not with hatred as I would expect, but with something akin to awe.
I put the straw in her mouth, and she sucks up a little bit before swallowing. She is so thirsty and takes too much on the next sip, choking on it. I set the glass down and rub her back, bringing her to my chest.
We are lying side by side now, just looking at each other. She is so calm and quiet. Her eyebrows crease, and she takes a shaky finger and runs it along my forehead, and I close my eyes. I miss her touch, how she can calm that storm that’s been raginginside me for months with one tiny stroke of her finger.
“You’re beautiful.” She whispers, and I pop my eyes open.
“You’re an angel, right?” I just shake my head no. It’s the fever talking, but it breaks my heart that she doesn’t recognize me. She would never call me an angel if she did. She slowly traces my lips, and then she catches herself, removing her hand like she’s done something wrong.
I bring her cold red hand back to my lips and kiss each fingertip, and her brows crease in question as she watches me.
Her voice is cracked and low, but I hear her. “Can you take me to my Nonno now? I miss him.” (Grandpa)
The dam finally breaks, and my heart cracks wide open. I can’t stop the tears now. She thinks I’m an angel here to take her to heaven. I swallow past the lump in my throat a few times and finally manage to say. “No sweet girl, I can’t. You have to stay with me, okay? “
She smiles and nods at me and then snuggles into my chest.
It’s barely above a whisper, “You really are beautiful, you know?” She breathes deeply and coughs hard. “I don’t feel well angel. Are you sure you can’t take me to see Nonno? I miss him. He loves me.” Hot tears run down her cheek to soak my shirt. “I just want to be loved for a little bit.”
I gather her close, and let my own tears mingle in her sweat soaked hair. I want so badly to tell her I do love her, that I always did. But not when she doesn’t know me. I’ll tell her everything when she’s better.
She will get better, she has to. She can’t leave me, not yet.
Chapter 22 ~ Isabella
I roll over and everything hurts. My body is so sore, my arms, my back, and my legs. My toes are burning, my fingers hurt, and the sun. The sun is so bright in my eyes. I open my eyes and the room is too bright; I hold my blanket up in front of my face, trying to block out some of the sunlight. Noticing the comforter in my hand and it’s not mine. It’s not my beautiful floral cream comforter with roses on it. This is a soft, creamy pale blue satin.
I pull the covers up; I look down at my body, and I’m completely naked. Oh my God, oh my God, what happened? Suddenly, the curtains close, allowing me to see more of the room.
Holy shit, this isn’t my bedroom.
Don’t get me wrong; it’s a beautiful bedroom. But it isn’t mine. My room is small. My comforter has bright pink roses in shades of cream and yellow. I look around and the nightstand has a beautiful brushed silver lamp and a cream shade.
The room is so big it has a sitting area in front of a fireplace; it’s bigger than my whole apartment and missing all my little shabby chic finds. The couch and loveseat are cream and look expensive, and my fuzzy pink blanket is lying on one arm. The room has beautiful hardwood floors, and a giant oriental rug covers the floor in the same shade as the comforter, matching the cream-painted walls.
Then it hits me.
