[Dawn]
“This morning,” I whisper, feeling my heartbeat thrum in my ears.
“I was on my way here to tell you. I just-well, these last few weeks have been so tough. And missing you has made me sick to the core, you know? And well, I thought the nausea was just me being overly dramatic.”
My voice cracks slightly, and I pause, feeling the weight of my emotions press against my chest.
The room seems smaller now, quieter, as if everything is holding its breath for what I’ll say next.
“But after it hung around for the second week, and became a bit more intense, I well-”
I stop again, my words faltering. My throat tightens as my nervousness takes over. I keep fucking saying ‘well.’
My fingers fidget against the hem of my shirt. “So I rushed down to the corner store and bought some tests…”
Aldo’s face shifts, his expression caught between disbelief and joy.
His eyes sparkle, and the bruises on his face can’t hide the grin spreading across his lips. “And you waited until now to tell me?”
“Before didn’t exactly seem fitting,” I reply, my voice timid but teasing.
His laughter bursts out, first soft and then louder, even though I know it hurts him. The sound fills the room, warm and full of life. Despite his injuries, he pulls me into a hug, holding me tight as if he never wants to let go. “You mean I’m gonna be a dad?”
“Well, yeah.” My cheeks flush as I look up at him. “I mean, it’s probably like seven weeks old. But I’ve been searching on my phone since peeing on the sticks and-”
“Seven weeks old?” Aldo interrupts, his voice rising with excitement. “I’ve got a kid who’s seven weeks old, and we’re talking about your brother?”
Before I can reply, Aldo jumps up, his movements quick and full of energy, even as he grimaces slightly from the pain. He pulls me up with him, and our hands lock together, fitting perfectly like two puzzle pieces.
For a solid minute, we just smile at one another. The silence between us feels electric, heavy with unspoken promises and pure happiness.
Then, as if unable to contain it, Aldo lifts my hand to his lips and kisses it softly. His voice is thick with emotion when he finally speaks.
“Cristo! Mom and Dad are gonna be so fucking happy. I can’t help but think this situation is so similar to theirs!”
I snort out a laugh, confused but too overwhelmed with joy to care.
He’s radiant, even with his face swollen and bruised, blood drying near the corner of his mouth. To me, he’s still the most beautiful man in the world.
Joy bubbles up inside me, breaking free in soft giggles. The nervous tension dissolves, replaced with a lightness I haven’t felt in weeks. “You love me,” I mutter, more to myself than him.
“You love me too,” Aldo says, his voice a low, intimate rumble. He pulls me closer, his hands firm but gentle. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have been rushing over here to tell me.”
“Like I wouldn’t rush over just to see you,” I tease, my voice full with affection.
Aldo laughs, the sound rich and warm, and then hugs me harder. His lips find mine, and the kiss deepens, raw and filled with everything we’ve been holding back. When we break apart, he spins me in a playful circle, both of us laughing like kids.
The weight of the fight with Andre fades away, forgotten in the glow of this moment.
“Let’s not talk about any of this,” Aldo says, gesturing at his bruised and battered body. His eyes lock with mine, filled with determination.
“For the rest of the night, let’s just talk about this baby. About me being a daddy. About you being a hot momma.”
The playful growl in his voice sends a shiver through me, and before I can reply, his lips are on mine again. The kiss is passionate, consuming, like he’s trying to pour his love into me all at once.
I wrap my arms around him, pulling him closer until my hand brushes against his side. He winces, a sharp intake of breath breaking the kiss.
“The ribs?” I ask, guilt flooding my voice. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s fine,” Aldo says, stepping back slightly but keeping one hand on my waist. “I probably should’ve expected that.”
We settle back onto the couch, the ice pack returning to his face. The broken glass on the floor catches the dim light from the TV, but we keep our feet up, ignoring the mess for now.
“Should we go to the hospital or something for your ribs?” I ask, glancing at him with concern.
He shakes his head, his grin returning. “Nah, these ain’t broken. A bit of bruising-I’ll have to put up with it for a week or so.”
“Are you sure?”
“I’ve broken ribs before,” he says, his tone light despite the memory. “They hurt a lot more.”
Aldo leans over to grab his tablet, brushing aside some scattered letters and junk. He strains slightly, wincing as he returns to his seat.
“Let’s get something to eat, huh? Something for three.”
“That’s a myth, you know?” I say with a smirk. “The whole eating-for-two thing…”
“You?” Aldo’s grin widens mischievously. “I was getting double for myself. I’ve just been in a fight so…”
We burst into laughter, the sound filling the room and spilling into the quiet night. For a moment, it feels like we’re kids again, like nothing else in the world exists but us.
We pass the night talking, our voices low and intimate, sharing laughter and dreams. The weight of everything else-the fight, Andre, the bruises-feels far away. It’s just us. Aldo’s hand rests on my belly as we sit curled up together, his thumb absently tracing soft circles against the fabric of my shirt.
“You’re glowing,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper.
I laugh softly. “Don’t start with that already.”
“I mean it,” he says, turning to look at me. His bruised face is tired but still so full of love. “I can’t believe I get to do this with you.
I’ve thought about it before, you know. What it’d be like to have a family with you. It felt impossible back then, but now…”
His words trail off, and I see something vulnerable flash across his face.
“You’re not alone in this,” I say, cupping his cheek. My thumb brushes the swollen cut near his lip. “Whatever comes, we’re doing this together.”
He closes his eyes for a moment, leaning into my touch. “You make me believe that,” he whispers.
The food arrives, breaking the quiet spell between us. It feels like a feast even though it’s just burgers and fries.
We eat with reckless abandon, laughing when I steal half of Aldo’s burger and he pretends to pout.
“See? Eating for two already,” he teases, winking at me.
And we both cackle.
By the time we crawl into bed, we’re exhausted but happy. Aldo pulls me close, his arms wrapping protectively around me. His hand drifts back to my belly, resting there as if he’s guarding something precious.
“I can’t stop thinking about it Bambolina” he murmurs against my hair. “Our baby. What they’ll look like. What they’ll be like. God, I already love them so much.”
My heart swells, and I press a kiss to his chest, feeling his heartbeat beneath my lips. “Me too,” I whisper.
We fall asleep like that, tangled together, surrounded by the quiet hum of the night.
The morning is soft and golden, sunlight streaming through the curtains. I wake up first, lying still and watching Aldo sleep. Even bruised and battered, he looks peaceful, his face relaxed in a way I don’t see often.
I trace small patterns on his arm, marveling at how everything feels so different now. There’s a newness to the world, a brightness I can’t quite explain.
But the peace doesn’t last long.
Aldo’s phone buzzes on the nightstand, loud and insistent. He stirs, groaning softly before reaching for it.
“Luca,” he says groggily, answering the call. “Good morning.”
The voice on the other end is muffled, but I can hear the urgency in Luca’s tone. Aldo’s face shifts instantly, the lightness from the night before replaced with something dark and serious.
“What is it?” I ask, dread already coiling in my stomach.
He doesn’t answer right away, his jaw tightening as he listens. His free hand rubs the back of his neck, a sure sign he’s stressed. When he finally hangs up, his shoulders slump, and he turns to me.
“Andre has disappeared,” he says, his voice grim. “Along with a van full of drugs.”
The words hit me like a punch to the gut. My brother-my stubborn, reckless brother-is in deeper trouble than I ever imagined.
“What do we do?” I ask, my voice trembling.
Aldo is already pulling on a t-shirt, his movements quick and focused. “I have to go. Luca needs me to help track him down.”
I grab his arm before he can leave, my fingers gripping tightly. “Promise me you’ll be careful.”
He pauses, his gaze softening as he looks at me. “I promise.”
His lips brush mine in a quick kiss before he steps back. “I’ll fix this. For us.”
And then he’s gone, leaving me standing in the doorway with my heart in my throat.