Runaway Bride

Chapter 32 Light sleep

“Are you sure?” asks my husband.

Sure about what?

I blink several times. Am I asleep?

Slowly I regain my memory. Memories come flooding back and fill my head. I fainted! I’ve never had anything like that happen to me before. I’m pretty strong. I usually am.

I remember Dawson’s arms carrying me as if I weighed less than a feather, Darío’s concern...

Teresa. My sister suddenly comes to my mind.

Lucian!

Oh, no!

I try to open my eyes, but the damn things won’t cooperate.

“Hello, beautiful dragonfly.” Darío sits down next to me. The bed sinks gently under his weight. “Go easy. It’s all right.”

“Darío...” my voice is hoarse, my tongue heavy in my mouth, and I feel a haze in my throat, almost as if it’s been days since I last spoke. “What.... what happened?” I inquire, though I know my last conscious thought was the fainting, the bed, and the brothers discussing whether or not to call the emergency room.

It’s all so confusing to me.

I shudder under the sheet. I finish opening my eyes as wide as my heavy eyelids will allow.

“You’re in the clinic, love. You passed out. You scared the hell out of me. For a moment, we thought you’d fallen asleep, but when Dawson tried to wake you up... God! You nearly scared me to death.”

“I’m s-sorry, my darling,” I murmured weakly. “What happened to me?” I blink several times in a row. My body is weak. I feel it by how it shivers and shakes from the mere wind coming through the open door.

“You’re anemic,” he answers as he runs his hand through his hair. He doesn’t look at me. He doesn’t because, ultimately, he can’t see me.

I watch the door where a draft of cold air blows in. Dawson is not around, and I don’t want to bother Darío, who I know will get up and try to close it, but he doesn’t know this place. The last thing I feel like doing is making him feel useless, as he often repeats, given his condition.

“Anemia?” I’ve never been a sick woman. I have no trouble eating or taking vitamins. Exclusive © material by Nô(/v)elDrama.Org.

“Yes, beautiful. The doctor has been kind enough to prescribe some vitamins for you to take.” But, with his tone of voice and the way he wrings his hands nervously, I get the hint that something is wrong with him.

I sit up as best I can on the bed until I manage to stick my back against the headboard. I have an IV placed in my right hand. Am I that bad that I need to be channeled?

“Darío,” I place my IV hand on his shoulder and make him turn towards my voice, “what’s wrong love? You seem thoughtful... distant.”

“It’s all right, beautiful.” He smiles, but the gesture doesn’t reach his eyes, which makes me worry even more.

“And why do I feel like you’re hiding something from me? We’re past hiding things from each other, honey. Why don’t you just tell me what’s bothering you?” I think of the despair he must have felt when I

fainted when I couldn’t do anything. Dawson had to help him. Thank the angels that his brother, despite all their differences, hadn’t left his side.

“Nothing. I’m serious, baby. It’s all right. Rest, that’s all you need to worry about right now.” He gets up slowly.

“Where are you going?” I sound more alarmed than I wanted to.

“Do you want me to stay by your side?” his question makes no sense to me, so with difficulty and all my willpower, I pull off the sheet that covered my body and sheltered me a little from the cold. I have socks on. I feel them when my feet touch the icy surface of the floor.

“I don’t want anyone else to be with me. You’re the one I want by my side always.”

“Are you sure, love? Do you really want me here? Nothing will change that?”

“What are you getting at?” I place my hands around his back, hug his body and snuggle in. Then, slowly, he brings his arms up and around mine.

“You’re pregnant,” he informs, his voice husky. His arms are tense, his back rigid.

I begin to understand his emotional remoteness. I try to take in words. At least I try.

Pregnant.

Pregnant?

Fuck, am I pregnant?

No matter how many times I say it in my mind, I find it complicated to understand.

“Tatiana...” I know he’s waiting for a comment from me, but nothing comes out of my mouth. I am speechless.

Pregnant?

Dante is only going to be barely a year old.

I’ve only been married to Darío for a month.

What will people say?

I immediately recoil at this idiotic musing. I want to bang my head against the wall for even thinking about what people will say. Are they going to support my son? Will they be the ones buying milk and diapers? I don’t care about anyone but Darío.

“I know it’s too soon and that... that’s not how we planned it...” My husband, such a blunt and honest man, so straightforward and always speaking his mind no matter if others disagree, is nervous. Not only that, but he is also anxious. “I don’t want to pressure you... I mean... I don’t want to impose on you to... to carry my son... Shit!” he exclaims and pulls out of my embrace. He turns around and runs his hands up to mine, gently gathering them up to place them on my neck.

His warmth soothes me.

His breathing slows, and he lets out a sigh.

“Darío?” His blue eyes, almost gray because they are so light, crinkle, and shrink. “What do you really think about my pregnancy?”

His hands run up my chin. My cheeks flush from the ravenous heat that takes over my body from holding him so close. He is so beautiful, so tender, so different. I know he can’t see me, can’t realize how in love and captivated he has me, so I reach up and kiss him. His lips open. I take the opportunity

to insert my tongue and deepen the kiss, which becomes more passionate every second. I press my chest against his and raise my head a little to give him better access to my mouth.

I will never get tired of him kissing me like this, so sensual, so possessive, so him. His thumbs circle my cheeks; his caresses cause me to gently rub my hips against his body, which reacts quickly, and I feel his erection.

An involuntary moan escapes my lips, and he grunts, pleased.

“I will never get tired of this mouth, my dragonfly. You are beautiful.”

“I don’t want you to get tired of it.” I press my forehead to his.

We stay like that for a while. We feel our hearts beating next to each other. His warmth is enough to forget the cold that recently bothered me. I’m wearing the same light yellow plaid dress I wore in the morning before I knew I was going to have one hell of a day.

“I’m pregnant,” I mutter.

“We’re pregnant,” he corrects me and lets out a chuckle.

“Are you laughing? Really? Do you find this funny?” I don’t understand.

I thought he’d be upset about the pregnancy. I thought he wasn’t ready to have another baby.

Already his experience was somewhat tricky. Even realizing the delay with my period, I didn’t want to consider it, as I was afraid of how an unplanned baby might affect our relationship that was just beginning to take root.

“If I could see you right now, I’d see how pale you look, so scared you’re dying of nerves.”

“I don’t...”

“White as milk, looking like a ghost.” He smiles again.

I don’t understand his reaction at all.

“I’m not...” I think about it. In truth, I am scared, but not because of what Darío believes, but because I worry about him and how he’s taking it. “I’m not scared.”

“You are.” He reaches up and strokes my arms. It leaves my skin electrified and eager for his touch again. “It’s okay. I know we weren’t looking for it, but I want you to know that a child is always welcome.”

I let out a sob, and tears begin to stream down my cheeks.

Can this man be a better husband? What did I do to deserve someone like him?

I cry inconsolably, and Darío hugs me to comfort me without understanding the crying. He doesn’t know that he just made me the happiest woman in the world by simply saying those words to me. He has put back together with my wobbly world and the ground that had begun to shake beneath my feet at the thought that he didn’t want my son, and that’s why he was so bewildered before.

“Shhh.” He strokes my hair loose and tangled as I have no idea how long I was passed out. “It’s going to be okay. We’ll be fine. We have each other. You’re not going to get away from me that easy, not now. Ever.”

“I don’t want to run away from you. On the contrary, I want to lie with you every day of my life,” I confess with a contrite, clenched heart. “You are the person who complements me, the man I will always want to have by my side, the only one who has truly seen me and loved me, taking a chance even after...” I shut up suddenly, as the tears won’t stop, and my throat closes up.

“I know.” Darío interprets my silence and understands perfectly what I was going to say. “I didn’t even think myself that it was possible to trust anyone but myself again. You came along. When I thought you were just part of a dream, a rich and exquisite one... I was so drawn to you, so weak with you.” Sigh. All the weight that imprisoned my chest drains from my body and generates a puddle of melted fears on the floor. “I don’t want anyone else by my side. Only you, my dragonfly.”

“I love you.” I hug him more fiercely until my channeled hand throbs, sure because I did more force than I should have.

“I love you more, my dragonfly, my treasure. I am not afraid by your side, nor am I in pain. My only fear is...” He falls silent. For an eternal second, I think he’s going to stop talking, but he surprises me when he continues, “I don’t want to be a burden to you and anyone. You must be aware that my eyes will perhaps... They will probably never be the same again...”

“Listen to me well, Darío Magghio.” I grab his face between my hands. “I don’t give a shit about your eyes. I don’t care in the least that you’re not able to see me. I loved you before I knew you were the man I was going to marry. I loved you for the way you caressed me and the way you talked to me that first time at the lake. I will love you even if a hundred years go by because I feel for you is not visual. It is not physical. This...” I put his right hand on my chest, right where my heart beats, “what I feel for you, not even a thousand years will be able to erase it. I loved you without seeing you, and I think you did too.”

“What did I do to deserve someone with a heart as good as yours?” I feel it’s more to himself the question.

Someone clears their throat, and I turn my face toward the door. It’s Dawson.

“I can’t leave you two alone for five minutes because you’re already about to fuck each other in the middle of a hospital room and with the door open!”

I laugh at such a comment, and Darío lets out a snort, though his expression is amused.

“You’ll kill anyone’s magic, bro.”

“The one I’m going to kill is your wife if you don’t tell me right now what’s going on with Teresa.” Then, abruptly, the atmosphere cools and becomes uncomfortable, almost unbearable.

“You’d both better sit down,” I suggest.

I see Dawson withdrawn, his arms folded across his chest, his hair in disarray. He’s tired. I can swear he looks sad and without the same electrifying spark that his eyes possess.

It’s now or never.

I help Darío to sit in the family chair next to the bed I used to occupy. Dawson keeps an eye on my movements, which prepares me and makes me understand that the conversation will be difficult.