The hospital room felt colder than usual, or maybe it was just the nerves playing tricks on my senses. I stared at the ceiling, trying to drown out the steady beeping of the machines surrounding me. Surgery was just a few days away, and the fear that had been building inside me was slowly turning into a suffocating dread. I wasn't sure how to cope with it.
Dante entered the room, carrying a small bouquet of wildflowers. It was really sweet of him, though the past few days had been rough between us, it didn't stop him from showing up every single time I was in distress. Though I told him I didn't need him to care, it didn't stop him from caring regardless. He placed them on the side table, their vibrant colors standing out starkly against the sterile white room. He gave me a small smile, though his eyes couldn't completely hide the worry.
"How are you feeling?" he asked, his voice soft but steady.
I forced a smile. "I'm okay. Just... tired."
Dante pulled up a chair and sat next to me, his hand instinctively reaching for mine. I didn't pull away. Somehow, his touch grounded me, reminded me that I wasn't alone in this, it was more than enough. He traced small circles on the back of my hand with his thumb, and I found myself leaning into the comfort.
"The doctor said you're holding up just fine, soon the baby will be here and you'll be free. You just have to stay strong a little longer," he murmured, as if trying to convince himself as much as me.
"I'm scared, Dante." I admitted out loud before I could hold it back. My voice trembled, and I hated myself for being so vulnerable, but my strength had failed me.
Dante's grip on my hand tightened. "Hey, it's okay to be scared. This is... a lot. But you're one of the strongest people I know. You've been through a lot and you handled it all just fine, You can get through this too."
A lump formed in my throat, tears settling behind. "It's different this time. It's not just me anymore. What if something happens? What if something happens to my baby? What if something goes wrong?"
He leaned forward, brushing a strand of hair away from my face. "Nothing will happen. I won't let it. I'll be right here through everything. I'm not leaving you, I promise."
The tears I had been holding back finally broke free, and Dante didn't hesitate to pull me into his arms. I buried my face in his shoulder, letting the weight of my fear spill out. He held me tight, rubbing my back gently, whispering comforting words I couldn't quite make out.
After a while, I pulled back, wiping my cheeks. "Sorry, I just... I've been holding that in for too long."
Dante smiled softly. "You don't have to apologize. I'm here for you. Whatever you need."
The nurse entered with a clipboard, breaking the moment. She smiled at us, explaining that the doctors needed to run a few more tests. I was drained out already, I'd been through a series of tests since I got here and just when I thought I had a break, there was more. Dante gave my hand a reassuring squeeze before stepping outside to give us some privacy.
After the tests were done, I lay back down, feeling more exhausted than before. Dante returned, carrying a tray of food. I hadn't even realized how long it had been since I last ate.
"Thought you might be hungry," he said, setting the tray on my bedside table.
I picked at the food, not really having the appetite. Dante pulled a chair closer and started talking—about random things, funny stories from his childhood, anything to keep my mind off the surgery. His efforts didn't go unnoticed, and for a while, I actually managed to smile.
When the night fell, Dante refused to leave, insisting on staying by my side despite the nurses' objections. Eventually, they relented, and he settled into the uncomfortable chair next to my bed.
"You don't have to stay," I whispered.
He glanced at me, determination in his eyes. "I'm not going anywhere, I promised I wasn't leaving you and I won't."
I didn't argue. Having him there made the overwhelming silence bearable. We talked until my eyelids grew heavy, and even as sleep claimed me, I could feel his hand holding mine, his presence a quiet reminder that I wasn't alone in facing my fears.
As the days passed, Dante kept to his promise, showing up with little comforts and distractions, trying his best to keep me calm. He helped the doctors communicate the surgery details to me, translating their medical jargon into words I could understand. Sometimes, when he thought I was asleep, I'd catch him looking at me with that same worried expression, and it made my heart ache.
On the eve of the surgery, Dante brought a small stuffed bear with a ribbon around its neck. I raised an eyebrow at the unexpected gift.
"I know it's silly, but my mom used to give me one before every big exam. She said it brought good luck," he explained, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly.
I hugged the bear to my chest, a genuine smile lighting up my face. "Thank you. It's perfect."
That night, he stayed until I fell asleep, whispering encouraging words that seeped into my dreams. When morning came, I was still scared, but knowing Dante would be there waiting made it just a little easier to face.
As they wheeled me into the operating room, I caught one last glimpse of him standing by the doorway, giving me a small wave, his eyes never leaving mine. The fear was still there, but his presence made it just a little more manageable.
I closed my eyes, clutching the bear in my hands, and whispered to myself, "I'll be okay."