Chapter 23

I had a vivid dream that I was at Piero's house, and my mother came over. I could hear her very clearly. She said she was very sad for me, and she loved me. Piero told her that she was lying, that she didn't really love me, and in my dream, I knew it was true. Then the dream dissipated and I slept fitfully…

Every now and then I could feel something happen, but the activity around me had calmed and quieted. A soft blanket was laid over me, and adjusted later on. A gentle hand smoothed my hair and touched my cheek.

My head ached and I felt confused and drowsy, and there was a deep, constant pain in my back. My chest hurt whenever I tried to breathe too deeply, but I still tried anyway, desperately wanting to appease my lungs.

I was absorbed in an uncomfortable heat, and I listened to the sound of a sink running, the sound loud and clear. I imagined the cool water, and longed to be submerged in it, to get rid of the terrible heat. I heard footsteps, and the sound of a bowl being set down on a table close to me. I listened to the sound of water dripping into more water, and then was surprised when a cool cloth was laid on my forehead. It felt blissful and fresh, and I felt relief within me at the touch of the coolness.

I breathed in slowly and blinked open my eyes to see the sweet face of Piero above me, looking somberly down at me with a light so bright behind him that it made me squint.

I fluttered my lids as I tried to get them to adjust, and looked up at Piero as he recognized I was awake.

"Julia!" he said, startled, but then his serious expression broke with a disbelieving smile.

"How are you feeling?"

I looked around me, squinting and disoriented, and discovered that I was at Piero's house, lying on my back on his sofa with a blanket tangled around my legs. The sunlight streamed in brightly through the windows. What had he asked? How I felt? I considered this, and a wave of nausea overcame me as images from the past night flooded my mind. I was suddenly aware of every pain in my entire body, and was reduced to a gripping, agonized silence. I opened my mouth to answer Piero, but instead I began to cry.

"Julia!?" he asked urgently, stooping down beside me. "Tell me!"

His face was anguished as I struggled to speak.

"It hurts!" I eventually sobbed. My whole body was filled with pain that I knew would become firecrackers if I tried to get up, but I was far too weak and hot to move. "Piero, it hurts!"

Piero jumped up and left the sofa. He returned a moment later with bottles of pills and a glass of water. He set them down on the coffee table, and quickly twisted the caps off the bottles to pour the different pills into his hand.

"I can't move, Piero," I gasped as tears ran down my cheeks, "I'm too weak to take them."

He knelt beside the couch and reached out to me.

"Here."

He slid his arm carefully around my shoulders and gently, slowly, lifted up my chest, supporting me with the strength of his arm. The pain increased and I whimpered, but Piero didn't move me completely upright. Rather, I was lying against his arm, employing no strength of my own. The cloth against my forehead slipped down over my eyes, and Piero reached up and removed it. He opened his fist containing the pills in front of me, and I slowly raised my shaky hand to take them, but discovered that my wrist was bandaged. I stared at it in bewilderment before dropping it to my side and raising my other hand, weakly taking the pills and placing them at the back of my tongue. Piero reached behind him and took the glass of water from the coffee table. He held it to my lips and I gulped it thirstily as he helped me to drink. Then Piero gently laid me back on the pillow as the weak crying resumed. I reached helplessly and pleadingly up to him.

"Piero…"

He looked as if he was near tears himself, and he reached down and took my hand tightly in his.

"You're alright now. You're safe."

"Hold me, Piero!"

He moved closer to me and leaned toward me. His arm slipped under my shoulder, but he was careful not to move me. He kissed my cheek as I gasped for air and winced. The he pressed his face against the crook of my neck and I felt his lips against my skin. His chest pressed lightly against mine, feeling my every breath, and I weakly held my hands around him, feeling his hair and touching his back.

He gently raised his head and tenderly touched his lips to mine, and then murmured, "Sleep, mi amor, you're feverish still."

He moved to stand, and I was too weak to keep him from moving away.

I heard him dipping the cloth back into the bowl of water, and a moment later he replaced the cool cloth on my head. I sighed softly as he knelt beside me and caressed my cheek.

The air conditioner kicked on with a soft humming, and I listened to the soothing noise for a few minutes without opening my eyes. I felt calm, and there was a stillness in my mind, no thoughts rushing through my head. I slowly drew breath in and out as I listened to the quiet. I opened my eyes after a moment and looked about me. Piero had thankfully drawn the curtains and turned the lights off, and the room was brightened only by the light behind the shades. My head was resting on a fluffy pillow, and a soft blanket was draped over me. The couch was comfortable, but I felt incredibly weak, as if I'd never be able to move again. I didn't feel so hot anymore, so I thought that perhaps the fever had gone. I felt something touching my side and looked down, feeling a warmth inside me at the sight before me. Piero was kneeling beside the sofa, asleep with his head on his arms, pressing lightly against my side. His hair was tousled, and his glasses were sideways on his face. He looked tired from taking care of me and his chest slowly rose and fell with his quiet breaths. I watched him quietly, mesmerized, filled with love for this gentle hero. I lifted my hand slowly from my chest, noticing the hospital bracelet around my wrist, and reached out shakily for his face. I gently touched his hair and moved my hand slowly down his temple and cheek, feeling his smooth skin against my fingers. As I moved my hand down to his neck, he became aware of my touch. His dark eyes fluttered open and he raised his head from his arms to look groggily over at me.

"Oh, Julia!" he said, and brightened when he saw me looking back at him. He moved close to me and laid his hand on my arm, leaning forward to kiss me. He pulled away and closed his eyes, sighing in relief.

"Thank God. The fever's gone at last."

I placed my hand weakly on his shoulder, and he laid his head beside mine on the pillow and kissed my temple.

"How do you feel?"

"Weak…" I responded softly.

He nodded.

"You haven't eaten in quite a while."

"Well…not since dinner."

He shook his head.

"It's Sunday."

"What!?"

I stirred, and then winced.

"Ah!"

"Please don't move!" he said, immediately placing a hand on my middle to keep me in place. "You're pretty hurt."

"How hurt?"

He hesitated.

"Very."

"Piero, give me specifics."

I moved my hand to his cheek and he took it and held it tightly in his.

"Three broken ribs, a ruptured disc, a sprained wrist, sprained ankle, and a concussion. Not to mention the many bruises scattered throughout your body."

I winced.

"Oh my goodness."

He nodded, and rubbed the back of my hand with his thumb.

"Julia, what happened? I thought he'd be asleep if you went to the house late."

"I thought so too. When I got to the house, he wasn't there, so I went to bed and hoped he wouldn't come back. When I woke up, Ray was there beside me. He pulled me out of the bed and yelled some stuff about how he doesn't want me to live there but I keep going back. He said he was going to teach me a lesson, and then…he…beat me…"

The words felt sour in my mouth, and I cringed at the clear images that surfaced in my mind. I exhaled slowly, trying to clear my head. I looked to Piero for comfort, and watched as a tear fell from his eye and ran down his cheek. I paused, watching him, but then decided to continue.

"I was lying on the ground…and I couldn't stay asleep. I kept thinking that I had to get out somehow, or I'd die. I was trying to get up and crawl, but I couldn't move. When you came, I thought you were Ray, and that you had come to finish me off, but when you spoke…I knew I was safe."

He took in a shaky breath and leaned in to softly touch his lips to my neck. I could feel the wetness of his cheek against my skin.

"I was up at seven, waiting for you," he began, his voice quavering as he looked at me, " and you didn't come…I went to your house, and Ray saw me drive up. He must have been afraid I'd find you. He yelled at me that I was trespassing, and that I had to leave. He tried to slam the door on me, but I stuck my foot in the way and pushed past him. I was terrified for you, and not even his threats could stop me as I went straight to your room. He followed me down the hall, but when I entered your room, he got quiet and went away. I guess he realized he was in trouble and left."

More tears ran down his face as he struggled to speak. I watched him, and felt my lip tremble as he spoke. His voice quieted as he confessed the rest of the story to me.

"I saw you crumpled on the floor, reaching out toward the window, and I felt my heart start to break in my chest."

He pressed his free hand against his chest, his fingers spread out over the place where his heart beat underneath. He moved closer to me on his knees, so that his face was right beside mine, his hand releasing mine as he moved to cradle my cheek.

"When I touched you and you begged me not to hurt you, I started to fall apart inside. I was so upset and angry that you had gotten hurt. You were in so much pain, and I picked you up as carefully as I possibly could, but I could tell even that hurt you everywhere. I felt weak inside, but I knew that I had to protect you. When you relaxed in my arms I knew that you were trusting me to take care of you, so I brought you back through the house, with one thought in my mind, "Get her to the hospital." "

"While we were there, the doctors made me go to the waiting room while they cared for you, and when I told them what happened, the police showed up and questioned me. I told them everything I knew about you and Ray. I hope you aren't upset, Julia, I had to! They have Ray in custody now. I was crying, so I went outside and called Ignazio and Gianluca and told them what had happened. They send you their best wishes. When I was calmer I went back in and waited until I could be with you again, and eventually I begged them to let me take you home. I thought you'd be more comfortable here with me then in the hospital bed. They said no at first, because you hadn't even regained full consciousness yet, but I convinced them to let me take you home. I promised to look after you as best as I could, and help you heal from your…beating."

He buried his head in his hands, and his back rose and fell as he cried.

"Piero, it's okay," I said, reaching out and touching his head, his hair tickling my fingers. He looked up and I moved my hand to his shoulder, but he shrugged it off.

"No, Julia! It's not okay! This is my fault!"

I was stunned.

"How?"

"I knew about Ray! I knew it wasn't safe at your house, and I let you go back anyway! I even watched you leave from my house, and I didn't stop you! I let you go home, and you got hurt. I promised you that I'd protect you! I promised you that you wouldn't get hurt again! I made a promise to you, and now look at you!"

Now I was crying too at his anguish, and I weakly gripped the collar of his shirt in my fist, begging him to listen to me.

"No, Piero! It's only Ray's fault! You did nothing wrong! What could you have done?"

"I should have found somewhere else for you to stay! I should've thought of a better option then letting you go back to that house!"

Tears rolled down his beautiful face, and I wiped them with my hand.

"I'm so sorry, Julia," he said.

"It's not your fault, Piero. It's not. Please listen to me."

"It is! I could have stopped this. I had the chance, but I didn't know what to do, so I didn't do a thing."

"It's not your fault," I said, crying as I tried to make him understand. It occurred to me that I was trembling, and I gripped his shirt as hard as I could. "I don't blame you in the least."

He removed my hand from his shirt and held it tightly in his.

"Please don't cry anymore, mi amor," he said softly, leaning forward to kiss me. His lips trembled against mine. "I'll take care of you. I'll protect you, really I will. I won't let anything hurt you. Let me do the worrying and you just focus on resting."

He kissed me again and gently wiped the tears from my face with his thumb, then kissed both of my cheeks. "You are safe here. I will care for you as best as I can."

"My mother," I said thoughtfully, and his eyes widened a bit and he quickly looked away from me. "Did she come to see me at the hospital?"

He was still for a moment, then looked back at me and slowly shook his head.

"Where was she?"

"She…" He was hesitant.

"It's okay, you can tell me. I want to know."

"She was at the jail, finding out about Ray's legal situation."

"Oh."

We were both quiet, and he kissed my hand gently.

"I'm sorry."

"I had a dream…" I said, "That she came here to see me, and you talked with her."

He looked surprised and then sad. He shook his head.

"That wasn't a dream, mi amor."

"Really?"

He nodded slowly.

"She came to see you, and she said she was very sad to see you like this. She said she loved you."

He smiled expectantly at me, as if awaiting my content with this information.

"That's not all," I said somberly. "You told her that she didn't really love me."

His smile vanished.

"I'm sorry."

"No, Piero. I think…I think you're right."

I took a slow breath, considering the words I had just said.

"I think you're right," I repeated thoughtfully, "She kept Ray around, and she kept me in danger. Maybe she doesn't love me, or at least doesn't know how to love me."

He looked surprised, and watched me quietly for a moment.

"Are you sad, mi amor?"

I nodded weakly.

"I love her, but I guess maybe I knew the truth all along. I want her to love me. But…maybe she'll learn how to, eventually. What did she say when you told her that?"

"She called me a liar, and scolded me a bit. I got angry, and I was a little louder than I should have been. I took her outside so I wouldn't disturb you, and explained to her that your wounds are the evidence, the proof that she doesn't love you. She got very angry and stormed off, and that was all."

"She'll go home and think about it for a while, though. She'll try not to, but eventually she will. She likes to pretend that she loves me, and I don't think she can ignore what's going on, especially now that the house is empty."

He nodded.

"You don't need her to take care of you now. I will take care of you. Don't worry about a thing."

I smiled weakly at him, and he smiled back.

"I love you so much, Piero."

"I love you too, Julia."

He leaned down and kissed me tenderly, smoothing my hair back on the pillow.

"How do you feel?"

My head was whirling with information, horrible recollections coming to me of the disastrous night, flashes of color from the hospital, and the clear realization that my mother doesn't love me. As if that wasn't enough to bear at once, the pain was returning to me, cruelly refusing to let me be comfortable.

"Weak... And everything hurts."

"You can take more medicine after the soup."

"The soup?"

"Yes, you must eat now. I made some soup for you."

I closed my eyes and felt the pain occurring all throughout my body. I was weak and tired, and I didn't feel like eating.

"I'm not hungry."

"Julia, you must eat! You haven't eaten in over a day!"

"I don't want to eat. Just let me rest, Piero. I need to sleep."

He took my hand and held it tightly in his, and when he spoke his voice was filled with pleading.

"Please, Julia. Please eat, for me, if nothing else. You're so weak, and you need some nourishment. Please."

I opened my eyes and looked into his dark ones, wide with worry.

I didn't respond, and he got up and went to the stove. I heard him fill a bowl with the soup and he returned to me.

He pulled the coffee table close and sat on it, the steaming bowl in his lap.

"Piero," I admitted softly, "Even if I wanted to eat, I'm too weak to hold the bowl."

"I'll feed you," he said immediately, and I shook my head and turned my face away, toward the back of the couch.

"I don't want you to feed me."

He set the bowl aside and cupped my cheek in his hand, guiding me to look at him.

"I know you're tired, and in pain, and I know you've been through a lot. But you can't get better if you don't eat. Just eat a little, and then I'll give you your medicine and you can sleep. But first, please try, for me."

I sighed and gave in.

"I just feel so weak, Piero."

"The food will make you stronger."

He reached for a pillow leaning against the side of the sofa and placed it on his lap. He reached his arm around me and gently lifted up my chest to slide the pillow under me.

"Now," he said, picking up the bowl and smiling at me. "Just relax and let me do all the work, alright?"

I smiled back at him, and he dipped the spoon into the bowl and raised it to my lips. The soup was warm and delicious, and tasted of vegetables and chicken. It seemed as though he had mixed in a bunch of different things in an attempt to fill a small bowl with more food than it was capable of holding. I weakly let Piero feed the soup to me, and as he did, he told me about how he convinced the doctor to let him take me from the hospital, which apparently involved his charm, handsome voice, and an agreement to pay for a later house call.

"To make sure you're alright," he told me.

I smiled and opened my mouth for the spoonful of hot soup he held to me. I watched his face so close to mine, concentrating on not spilling any of the hot liquid.

"Julia?" he asked, his eyes moving up to my face.

"Yes?"

"You need someone to entirely care for you for a few days, wait on you hand and foot! I want to be that someone, and I can't think of anyone else to possibly leave you with. I don't think your mother would be a great caretaker for you, given the circumstances. Do you agree?"

I nodded and waited for him to continue.

"So, since you need someone to look after you for a few days, are you okay with staying here until you're stronger?"

I considered it, and then smiled at him.

"Yes," I said. "Just until I'm able to take care of myself."

He nodded and sighed in relief.

"Of course. Good, I was afraid you'd say no. After a few days I'll take you home and you can stay with your mother in the house, without Ray there."

"Actually," I said. "I think I'd rather not go back there. I have my hopes set on that apartment."

He smiled and nodded eagerly.

"Great! I hoped you'd still want the apartment! I'll call the place later and set the deal in motion. I'll get the forms and such for you to fill out."

"Thank you, Piero. For everything," I said softly, gazing up at him. He smiled and leaned down to kiss me.

I felt weak and exhausted, and turned my face away from the next spoonful he offered me.

"That's enough, Piero."

"Are you sure? Try to eat just a little more."

I turned to him and accepted the spoonful.

"There. I'm finished, Piero."

"Okay."

He looked down at the bowl in his hand.

"That's about half," he said approvingly. "Very good, Julia. Thank you."

He softly kissed my cheek and got up to bring the bowl to the sink. I was rubbing my temple when he returned, attempting to soothe my headache, and he took my hand in his.

"Time for more medicine."

"Good…" I sighed, relieved to be rid of the pain for a while.

He got the pills and slid an arm around me to help me up again. I winced at the pain of moving and eagerly accepted the pills from his hand. He brought the glass of water up to my lips and tipped it. I swallowed the pills and Piero set the glass down, lowering me carefully back down and removing the extra pillow from under me.

"Now you should sleep."

I closed my eyes and smiled as he kissed my temple.

"Would you like a lullaby?" he asked, his voice soft and sweet.

"Yes, please. Will you sing-."

" "La Luna Hizo Esto?" " he asked, with a grin in his voice.

I smiled and nodded, with my eyes still closed.

"Absolutely, mi amor."

He took my hand gently in his, and leaned in close to me. I turned my head toward him, opening my eyes to watch his lips move as he sang.

His voice was very soft and soothing, but I could still hear the gentle power of it that I loved so dearly. The sound was gorgeous, and I closed my eyes as I listened to his voice beside my ear.

"La luna hizo esto…fue culpa de la luna…haberme enamorado…enamorado de ti!"

The medicine slowly began to work, lessoning the pain. Relieved, I drifted to sleep in the comfort of the couch listening to the voice of Piero.