Never Giving Up

Chapter 21

I don't question him on his appearance that I can only describe as being flawless compared to mine. I simply pick up my bag that contains everything in it that I'll need before grabbing Luca's hand and pulling him out the flat to go to the hospital.

The whole time Carlo is driving to the hospital, my fingers won't stop fiddling about with the strap of my bag. I don't say anything to Luca, nor does he attempt to say anything to me. It's not the time to speak about something other than my dad and because I don't know if he's yet awake, I don't want to think of anything other than seeing him if I can bring myself to do so.

I may seem brave when it comes to wanting to protect those that I love, but when someone I love is hurt or defenceless like my dad is, I can't help but feel weak. I can't say or do anything to make things better because it's out of my hands. I can't simply snap my fingers and have things be back to normal because nothing ever goes back to how it was. I've learned that more now that I'm with Luca and it's true.

It doesn't matter how much you try to make things go back to how it was, it'll never happen because it's imprinted in your mind. It will always make an appearance when it's not wanted and there's nothing that can be done to stop it from doing so.

"We'll wait for you to come out just let us know when," Carlo informs Luca and I when we come to a stop outside the main hospital entrance.

Luca says nothing and just nods, helping me out the back of the car with a hand holding tightly onto mine.

We walk into the hospital and make our way up to ICU, all of which is done in silence. It doesn't stop me from noticing the stares Luca is receiving which almost has me snapping at them to not look at him. Not in a possessive way but in a way that will make it loud and clear to everyone that he's entitled to have a life away from the public eye to do whatever he sees fit. He's just going about doing something normal and people are still stopping to gawk at him all because he's in a hospital for a reason they aren't aware of. It's angering me that during a time like this people aren't being considerate even if it was something to do with him.

"You okay?" Luca quietly asks me when we walk into ICU ward, leaning in close so no one passing us hears him.

"Yeah, I'm fine," I answer with a weak smile.

He looks at me with a questionable look and I squeeze his hand gently to silently verify my words. The look he gave me drops and he returns the squeeze of my hand before we come to the room directly in front of the nurse's station. I look through the window and my hold on Luca's hand tightens, my free hand moving to grasp his arm of the hand I'm holding.

Through the window, on the hospital bed with tubes and wires coming out of him in every direction, is my dad who doesn't look like my dad. He looks like someone completely different and not the man I know and love. My mum is sitting on the high-back vinyl chair next to the bed, hands clasped together, elbows carefully resting on the edge of the bed. She looks worn-out and her face is puffy from all the crying she's continuously done for almost twenty-four hours.

She moves to brush her hair away from her face and her eyes lock with mine. I can see her take a breath then signals for me to come into the room with a single finger beckoning me. I wouldn't willingly walk into the private room if it wasn't for Luca leading the way and pulling me along with him.

"Hi darling," my mum greets tenderly.

I don't look at my mum as soon as I'm in the room. My eyes fall directly to my dad and stay locked on him, tears threatening to fall from my eyes once again. Being closer to my dad this time rather than outside in the corridor is a scarier feeling than it was before.

Being closer to him and seeing him lying on the hospital bed with tubes coming out of him isn't something I'm used to seeing. It's not what I like to see because it's the reminder I don't need to know that something was and is wrong with him. He's paler and his hair is sticking out everywhere, and I can't help but feel the need to wash it and put it in his usual style. At this moment in time, he looks like an older version of himself which has my vision blurring with unwelcomed tears still daring to fall.