Page 97 of A Seed Of Peril

I squeezed Dominic’s hand the best I could, looking at him with fresh tears in my eyes.

“I want to hold my son. Please.”

After everything, all I wanted to do for a while was hold and cuddle Vincenzo.

While Dominic gently and carefully helped me readjust against the bed so I was properly sitting up, I closely watched Julie with anticipation as she lifted Vincenzo into her arms. One of his chubby little arms peeked out from the blanket he was swaddled in. He hardly made any noise as she carried him over to me.

“Look at him,” I whispered, awestruck. My chest tightened. “Oh, my gosh.” I let go of the clicker and weakly lifted my arm, reaching for him. Dominic held our baby steady the moment Julie placed him on my chest.

Sitting here, taking in such a precious sight, it was all worth it. The pain. The blood, sweat, and tears.

I remembered how it all started at zero: small twists and tightening. And then, with the snap of a finger, it skyrocketed to one hundred. It was like flashes of red, orange, and white were closing in on me inside of a tunnel that seemed to shrink, threatening to crush me. The beginning of a tsunami that pulled a person under and threw them around like a ragdoll without the chance to breach the surface and capture that one lifesaving breath. And then, the tunnel exploded into a gorgeous merger of yellow, orange, and violet flames.

Vincenzo squirmed and fussed some as he woke, curling and uncurling his chubby fingers.

Softly shushing him, I kissed his forehead. “I love you so much.” Beautiful, blue eyes stared back at me as his eyelids fluttered open. As I continued to stare, riveted by him, I noticed his left eye was a brighter, more intense blue like his daddy’s eyes, while the other eye seemed about two shades lighter. “Look,” I told Dominic and Julie.

“Well, I’ll be damned,” Dominic said, examining our son’s peculiar feature. “I’ve never seen that before.”

“Is he okay?” I asked him and the nurse, wanting to make sure this wasn’t dangerous for our son.

“He’s a tough little guy—passed every one of his tests,” Julie said. “It’s called heterochromia. I’ve never seen it in a person either, but it’s one of those random bits of information I remember from the medical books.”

“He’s beautiful,” Dominic said, brushing his fingers against Vincenzo’s cheek.

We both stared in amazement at this new life we created. The one I almost died for.

“How does it feel?” I asked Dominic, looking at him to find tears glossing over his eyes. His lips parted like he was about to say something before he drew in a shaky ghost of a breath.

“Incredible,” he declared. A teardrop snuck out, trickling the speed of a snail down his cheek.

I brushed the pad of my thumb against his cheek. “What’s wrong?” Remembering Julie was still in the room, I politely asked her if she could spare us a few minutes alone. After quickly making sure Vincenzo and I were all set, she left the room.

As soon as the door latch settled into place, Dominic sucked in a sharper, more unstable breath. He blinked away tears.

“Bellissima… What you did… I’ll forever admire your strength and your courage.” He swallowed the frog in his throat. I cupped his cheek. “I almost lost you.” He looked at his son. “Both of you.”

I didn’t know what to say. The pressure of tears burned behind my eyes.

“I love you so much,” he said, leaning in close and kissing me. He stared into my eyes, sweeping his hand across my cheek. “You’re so beautiful and incredible. You’re my hero.”

“I love you, too, Dominic.” I nuzzled into his touch, staring down at our son.

“I don’t ever want to lose you,” he softly spoke. “Without you…” He let his thoughts trail.

“You won’t lose me,” I stated as I looked back at him.

Closing his eyes, he kissed my cheek, his eyes opening again as he pulled away.

“Potrei guardarti tutto il giorno; I could look at you all day.” His velvety, illustrious Italian tongue danced with my heart. “Your strength is something I wish I carried. It takes a special kind of woman to have your fire. To have your courage and love.Amor di madre, amore senza limiti; a mother’s love has no limits.”

Vincenzo began to make fussy little noises, and when I gazed down at him, his face was scrunched up, his little fist jerking around in the air.

I took off his light blue cap, skimming my fingertips over his red hair. He had a full head of it. That explained the heartburn.

“He has a little of each of us,” I observed.

My hair. His daddy’s nose.

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