The weeks that followed Abigail's birth felt surreal. The hospital room that had once felt like a place of dread and uncertainty now seemed almost peaceful. Every morning, Dante would be by my side, either bringing me breakfast or a cup of tea on days I didn't feel like having any food. It was almost too good to be true, the way he was taking care of me without being asked. His presence, calm and reassuring, became something I looked forward to.
One morning, as he helped me adjust the pillows behind my back, I couldn't help but glance at his tired eyes. "You've barely slept in weeks, Dante. You don't have to stay here every night," I whispered.
He shot me a look that was both tender and determined. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here for you, all the way.."
A part of me wanted to argue, but the warmth in his voice made it hard to protest. I found myself relaxing as he pulled a chair closer to the bed and sat down. The soft cooing of a newborn from the next room made me smile, and I couldn't help but wonder when I would get to take Abigail home.
Just as I was about to voice my thoughts, the door creaked open, and a nurse stepped in, holding a clipboard. "Good morning, Sienna, I hope you're feeling good this morning? The doctor will be here soon to discuss Abigail's progress."
I nodded, feeling my heartbeat quicken. Every update felt like holding my breath until the words were spoken. As the nurse left, I turned to Dante, who was absentmindedly running his hand through his hair.
"You think she's doing okay?" I asked, my voice barely above a whisper.
Dante's eyes softened, and he reached for my hand, squeezing it gently. "She's a fighter, just like her mother. I bet she's doing just fine."
The door opened again, and this time, the doctor walked in, his expression professional but kind. "Morning, Sienna. Dante. I've got some good news. Abigail's doing exceptionally well, she's doing fine, her vitals are in check, and if her progress continues, we might be able to take her out of the incubator in a few days."
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I couldn't help but smile. Dante let out a breath I didn't realize he was holding, and for a moment, we just looked at each other, the relief evident on both our faces.
The doctor continued, "We'll continue monitoring her closely, but so far, she's doing exceptionally well for a preemie."
After she left, Dante pulled me into a gentle hug, his hand rubbing soothing circles on my back. "See? I told you she'd be okay," he murmured into my hair.
I pulled back slightly, looking up at him, trying to gauge his emotions. "Thank you... for being here. For not letting me go through this alone, even though you don't really have to- thank you"
Dante cupped my cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear. "You don't have to thank me, Sienna and of course, I have to be here for you."
A comfortable silence settled between us, one that felt almost too perfect. I couldn't help but wonder how long this peace would last and if Dante truly meant the words he was saying. But for now, I chose to believe in the quiet moments and the way his touch lingered just a little longer than necessary.
Later that evening, Dante's phone rang, breaking the calm atmosphere. He stepped out to take the call, and I couldn't help but feel a pang of unease. I knew our lives weren't exactly a fairytale, but part of me wished we could just exist in this little bubble without any outside interference.
When Dante returned, his face looked strained. I raised an eyebrow, prompting him to speak. "That was the office. There's an urgent meeting that just came up, we have some partners hoping to have a brief chat."
I forced a smile. "You should go. They need you."
He hesitated, looking like he wanted to argue, but eventually nodded. "I'll make it quick. Call me if anything happens."
As he left, I couldn't help but feel a little hollow. I knew he had responsibilities, but I couldn't shake the feeling that every time we inched closer, something would pull us apart.
With Dante gone, I settled back into bed, letting my thoughts drift. The nurse came in a while later to check my vitals, and I made small talk, trying to distract myself from the growing ache in my chest. As much as I wanted to convince myself that I didn't care whether Dante stayed or left, the truth was, his presence made everything seem a little less daunting.
I was still lost in thought when a gentle knock at the door startled me. My mom peeked her head in, offering a tentative smile. "Hey, sweetheart. How are you holding up?"
My heart tightened, but I managed a small smile. "I'm okay. Abigail's doing fine, the doctor said we might be able to take her home in a few days."
She moved closer, pulling a chair beside me. "You're strong, Sienna. Just like your dad."
I swallowed the lump in my throat. "Thanks, Mom. I guess I just want her to be okay."
"She will be. And you've got people who care about you—Dante especially."
I didn't know how to respond to that. My mom noticed my hesitation and took my hand. "Sometimes love sneaks up on you when you're not looking, Sienna. Just... don't push it away because you're scared."
I nodded, but I wasn't sure how to explain that it wasn't just fear—it was the uncertainty of whether Dante truly wanted this, or if he was just fulfilling his sense of duty.
After my mom left, I stared at the ceiling, wondering how many more nights I would spend questioning everything. Maybe, just maybe, one day I and Dante would figure out this whole mirage that has become our lives.