Matteo's PovI know, I always find a way to fuck things up.But it’s not that I love messing things up, it’s just my fears. I allow fear rule me and ruin things for me.It’s just out of my control.Earlier today, I had returned home a bit early and decided to go straight into my wife’s room. But on getting inside the room, I heard whimpering coming from the washroom and when I listened in properly, I discovered that Mirabella was crying.It broke my heart but I didn’t have it in me to walk into that washroom and ask her what her reason for crying was.You see, I’m not so good with all these emotions and all the baggages that comes with it.I’d left the room because I thought it wise to give her some privacy just in case she wouldn’t want me to see her in her time of weakness.I gave it a few more hours until it was the early hours of the night before walking back into our room. But she was still in the washroom and it concerned me how long she’d been crying for.“How do I tell him abo
Matteo's Pov“You’re sorry?” I stumble and every emotion there is and even the non existent ones flood me. “What does that mean?”“Let me speak to you privately. In my office.” I don’t even wait for him to finish before lunging for him with my fist ramming into his face over and over again.“Where the fuck is my wife!” I roar as my body vigorously tremble in rage.“My office now! Alone!” The doctor retorts as he storms away, leaving me with my raging emotions. Of course he can speak to me as he pleases because he has a good relationship with my family and he knows I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardize that.I walk into the doctor’s office sheepishly with my eyes boring into his as I slump down on the seat he pointed out for me. “This is going to be a lot for you to take in but I want you to know that I am here for and with you if you need anything.” He mutters each word carefully.I offer him a tight nod as I wait for the worst. “Your wife,” he clears his throat. Eyes moving around rap
Matteo's PovMy eyes are sunken into my skull, my lips parched, my skin and body malnourished, and my hair a mess.Sweat trickles down my forehead and I swallow my spit in an attempt to wet my uncomfortably dried throat. My eyes dart around and every sound coming from anyone is filtered out as I lose myself while solely focusing on my father's coffin as it lowers into the ground.My mother is an obvious mess but she's holding her head high as expected of her but mostly for Julia. If she breaks, what would my sweet little sister do?I gasp as I'm being forced to return back to reality when a firm arm grips my shoulder. "Did you hear me?" Augusto asks with his brows creased together."Hardly," I straighten my back as I run my fingers through my disheveled hair."The nurse taking care of Mirabella called to inform that her fingers twitched and the electrocardiograph machine was picking up on a stronger and a more stable heartbeat. So, I'm hurrying off to the hospital. Would you like to c
Mirabella's Pov"Is Matteo coming?""No. I don't think he is.""Why do I smell him then?"Pablo crouches down, carefully picking me up, placing me in the wheelchair. "Don't worry about Matteo, hmm? He's not here."One month. It has been one month since I was brought into this hospital. I was in a coma for the first two weeks and after another two weeks of being poked with needles non stop, I'm finally allowed to go home.Finally!My world came crumbling around me after the doctor had informed me that I lost my baby. It was even more unbearable after the memories of that night came crashing down on me.Although I'm unable to remember the events of that night in detail, the pain is still there. The scars on my skin, the loss of my baby, everything I've been through is all the proof I need that indeed, that night happened.The doctor confirmed that it's okay that I don't remember everything in detail as it is a trauma response but I still dream about it. The punches, the slaps, my scream
Mirabella's PovI exhale a breath through my mouth as I come awake from an exhausting slumber. My eyes part open but remain in a narrowed slit as I gulp down my saliva to wet my throat.My head is engulfed in a pang of pain as I attempt recalling the events of last night. "Matteo?" A whooshed whisper escapes my pained throat and I wince."Mrs. Denaro? I'm Beth, your nurse." She quickly checks my pulse and with a sigh of relief, she asks, "How do you feel?""Where's Matteo?" I throw a question right back at her, stammering and wincing through each word."Mr. Denaro is not here at the moment ma'am." She answers politely."Please call me Mirabella." The nurse—Beth—offers me a tight nod in agreement. "Did he come to see me? My husband I mean."Her eyes light, her lips stretching into an ear to ear grin, "of course!" She excitedly squeal with a tiny jump.Oh.This one's a sucker for romance."He didn't leave your side even for a second." I look at her with narrowed eyes, confused as to why
Mirabella's PovI lie on my back unmoving as tears blur my vision. I sniffle, gulping down the loud sob threatening to break out of me because I'm tired of crying. I'm so tired of being pitied.I'm tired of everything in general.It has been a month, a month since I returned from the hospital, a month since I last heard from Ares and the worry I feel is killing me.I'm torn between two worlds. A world where I'm giving my best to come out of the dark place I was pushed into; I want to forget. This past month has been me trying to forget what happened to me, but with each passing minute of everyday, a small part of my memory of the event of that night is unlocked and it kills me each time.It's driving me insane.And then there's a part of me which strongly believes that Ares has been caught up in a dreadful situation.I'll never forgive myself if anything happens to him because of me.The list of my troubles never ends.One more thing on that list would be Matteo. God, that man drives
Mirabella's PovI am beautiful.I am powerful.I am extraordinary.I was created for great things.I wasn't put on earth to wallow in misery. . .Two months.It has been two months since I first used my legs after the incident.The moment I got up on my feet, I decided there and then to put myself first. To talk about myself correctly, to stand strong, to take care of myself without relenting.And I've done just that.Swallowed my pills religiously, started intense psycho and physiotherapy and the way I feel right now is enough proof that my hard work is paying off.Recovering hasn't been the easiest, considering that the memories of that night still exist; the nightmares and panic attacks, but I find myself becoming stronger and more resilient after each dreadful episode of panic attack. That's the most important part of it all.Today, I'm sitting in my father's office after he had invited me over to talk about very important matters—his words not mine—except, I've been seated here l
Matteo's PovWhat did I do?What have I done?What the fuck have I done?!I thought I was doing the right thing by staying away from her. I thought I was protecting her, I thought. . .God! I thought a lot of things.But her reaction goes to show that I fucked up in more ways than one.Her pained voice still ricochets in my ears."I'm your wife! You don't like me? You can't stand me? I get that but I'm still your wife and it was your child that was taken away in that inhumane manner! It was your wife's body and soul that was broken and ripped apart! It was I, your wife who needed her husband in her moments of weakness and vulnerability but you weren't there Matteo.""I hate you so much, Matteo Denaro and I regret everything we've done together. I regret letting you touch me with your filthy hands. I hate every breath you take and I hope you die a painful death for everything you've put me through."My chest constricts."Look at me, Matteo! God, Matteo! Why? Why are you doing this? Why