Remorse.
I didn’t realise—I didn’t know.
But now he did. And it was a gift past counting.
The same words that had broken from him as he’d heard that thin cry, heard the obstetrician speak, were searing in his head again.
God be thanked.
His eyes opened, he turned the key in the ignition, reversed the car out of its parking space. He would return to the house next to Siena’s. In the morning he would come to the hospital again, bringing her bag with him. She would need to be in hospital for a few days, but he’d asked for her to be moved to a private room when it was medically safe. As for his son...
My son!
The words rang in his head. Such incredible, wonderful words—so infinitely precious.
He’d been able to see him, cocooned in his neonatal protection, fast asleep, ignorant of all the monitoring of his vital functions. He’d reported back to Siena, repeating all the medical reassurances given him, and what they had already been told—that his stay there should not be long, and that on the morrow she could have him with her.
‘Now, you get some sleep. Rest and recover.’ He’d smiled down at her, then left.
She’d looked exhausted...
Emotion twisted inside him. He set it aside.
Drove away from the hospital.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
THEPRIVATEROOMwas very comfortable, and Siena sat, propped up with pillows behind her back, gazing down at her baby son in his hospital crib beside her. Fast, fast asleep—and so, so tiny.
And safely out of ICU—blessedly.
He was completely safe. That was what the consultant had assured her when he’d called by this morning.
‘His arrival was dramatic, but he has taken no harm from it...none at all. All his vital signs are totally normal,’ he had told her.
‘Are you sure? Are you absolutely sure?’ Siena’s voice had been fearful.
‘Absolutely. He is completely healthy. No cause for any concern at all.’
She clung to the words now, as she gazed into the crib. Emotions flowed through her—a tangled, overpowering mix. So much emotion...for so many reasons...
A nurse tapped on the door, put her head around it. ‘You have a visitor,’ she said brightly.
Vincenzo walked in.
Siena felt something leap inside her—hold for a moment. Then it subsided. She made it subside.
He looked at her, but only briefly, as if in greeting, and then his eyes dropped to the crib, his expression changing. As if reluctant to look away, he looked quickly back at Siena. This time he smiled. But it was a careful smile, she could see.
‘How are you?’ he asked.
The concern in his voice was real, though, and she appreciated it. Appreciated it so much. Emotion turned over inside her.
‘Fine,’ she said. ‘I’m on painkillers, and will be for a while. But they’ve made me walk about a bit already—they say it’s good for me.’ She glanced across at the crib. ‘And, as you can see, he’s out of ICU.’
Her voice had softened, relief open in it. She looked back at Vincenzo. So much was inside her, and to some of it she must give voice.
‘Oh, dear God, Vincenzo...’ Her voice was low, heartfelt. ‘Thank God you realised what danger I was in—’ She broke off, lifted a hand, then let it fall on the bedclothes again. ‘I’d been trying not to look up every single thing that might make me alarmed unnecessarily! I thought it would just work me up into a bag of nerves! The midwife had said everything was fine, so I was determined not to let myself worry.’