I nod once more. She walks up to Sylvia, places a hand on her forehead, and tells me she’ll be back in a few hours.
Once she’s gone, I pull out my cell phone from my pocket. It’s just after eleven. I decide to text my brother, Massimo, or Max as we call him, to see how things are going at my house.
Me: How’s it going? Gianna asleep?
Max: She just went down not too long ago… had woken up cuz she was wet. I’m glad Marianna is here with me cuz I still can’t change a diaper for the life of me LOL.
I chuckle to myself, reading my brother’s response.
Me: LOL. One day you’ll have your own kids. One day you’ll learn.
Max: Yeah, not for now! Gigi’s more than enough! How’s Sylvs?
I frown at the mention of the nickname he’d given my wife the moment I told him about her.
Me: No change.
I can’t bear to add anything further. I can’t bear to tell him I’m on the verge of a fucking breakdown.
Max: Shit.
I’m about to compose a reply when a blaring sound from the ventilator my wife is hooked up to goes off. Something’s not right. My eyes meet the machine, and there, right before my eyes, a green horizontal line confirms my worst nightmare.
I jump to my feet, screaming my wife’s name.
It’s as if what happens next is a scene from a movie.
Everything slows.
Nurses and doctors rush in to be at Sylvia’s side.
“Sugar, come with me,” Cynthia demands, placing an arm over my shoulder. She wills me out of the room with my head swimming between fighting against her and wanting to them to help. “Come on, baby… You can’t stay here…”
Tears fall from the corners of my eyes yet again as fear grips the back of my throat. “N-no, I… I…”
Doctors crowd around Sylvia and place resuscitators on her chest, then try desperately to bring her back.
They try and fail miserably each time.
Oh my God, this can’t be it.
This can’t be the day I lose my wife.
“No! I have to stay with my wife…. Sylvia, oh God, sweetheart!” Tears continue streaming down my face.
Cynthia pulls me into an embrace, and I let everything out onto her shoulder. “Shhh, I know, baby… I know,” she says, rubbing my back.
I can’t stop the tears, but when I finally do, it’s hours later, and my Sylvia, my darling wife, is gone.
Chapter Two
Lorenzo
Five years later…
I toss my bag over my shoulder, and right as I’m about to exit the locker room, Ryker throws a white piece of cloth at me. I grab it just in time to realize it’s his sweaty undershirt. Dude is nasty, but he’s my best friend. Still, I scowl and drop it to the floor, throwing him a glare. He’s chuckling.
“Just testing your reflexes, man,” he says, slamming his locker shut.
“Yeah, yeah. Keep that shit up and you’ll be testing something else,” I warn.
He leans against his locker, folding his arms. “Oh, yeah? And what’s that supposed to mean?”
I walk over to him and shove two fingers against his chest. “That if you don’t watch it…” I point toward the doors leading to the main area of the gym. “You’ll find yourself in that ring with me. And it won’t be for practice.” Just beyond those very doors is the octagon ring where we practice for events.
Ryker has never faced me in any event, but we practice together all the time. I’m glad because how are you supposed to fight your best friend? I’d kill him. I can’t help it that my record is almost flawless. Every match I’ve been in, besides the first one from when I started, I’ve been undefeated. But hey, it’s all right. I’m planning on getting my revenge on Dennis “The Big Shot” Mavis at the next chance I get. I’ll have my turn. I’ll get my belt and the cash that goes with it too.
Hell, I deserve something for everything I’ve been through. At least I found a good way to channel my inner anger. I could’ve turned out to be an alcoholic deadbeat dad. But I’m not.
“Lorenzo Trevano, it would be an honor to rumble with you inside the cage,” Ryker says, finally picking up his undershirt.
Ryker and I will both be fighting in the upcoming event. It’s the biggest one of the year, and although we are not fighting against each other, the two of us will be giving it our all to win.
I chuckle and head toward the door. “Don’t forget to shut off the lights and lock up on your way out. I’ll catch you later, Ryke.”
“Later,” he responds.
I walk out of the building, and the chill in the air hits my cheeks. It feels good. The cold, late-November wind blows, whooshing through the area. After working up a sweat during practice, the cool breeze is a nice welcome.
I unlock the doors of my black four-seater pickup truck and throw my bag in the back as I hop in behind the wheel. With my buckle clasped and my mirrors checked, I start on my way home.
It’s after eleven at night, but this is my norm. We’re getting ready for the next UFC meet, which is in a few days, and I’m psyched. I’m so ready to get inside that cage and go head-to-head with my opponents. There’s nothing like the rush I get when that bell rings and it’s go time. Nothing.
Well, maybe there is something, but that’s a story I refuse to get into right now. Or ever. That part of my life died with—
I let out a deep breath, shake my head, and think about my baby girl. Thoughts of her always put a smile on my face, no matter what type of day I’m having. It was hard in the beginning, to pick up the pieces and trudge on, but now, I can’t picture my life without her. She’s my sunshine and the light of my life. I’m a total baby-girl’s daddy.
I’m sure Gianna is already out by now… at least I hope so, for poor Max’s sake. She’s a feisty little one with big blue eyes and chunky rosy cheeks, and she can talk at a hundred miles per second. She’s the cutest little thing under three feet I ever did see. Sure, I’m biased, but what good dad isn’t? She’s my princess.
I chuckle, thinking back to the last conversation we had. She started by asking me if kittens and puppies could understand us when we talk to them and ended by asking me if sharks have cousins.
As I pull up to my driveway, I see my brother’s Bronco exactly where he parked it before I left, just two houses up.
I kill the engine, hop out of my truck, and grab my bag from the back seat. Slinging it over my shoulder, I shut the door, lock the car, and march up the walkway.
When I step foot inside my home, I see Max looking like a drunk, passed out on the couch with his mouth open. I contemplate for a second about throwing something into it but decide against it, chuckling to myself. Looks like little Gia wore him out. I’ll let him sleep for another few minutes while I put my stuff away and check on my baby girl.
I place my bag inside the hallway closet and make my way toward Gia’s bedroom. Her door is slightly cracked, so I open it a tad bit more and peek in. I smile as I watch my princess in a deep slumber. She looks so peaceful.
I tiptoe in and cautiously walk toward her. The rise and fall of her chest confirms she must already be on her fifth dream or so of the night. I bend down to push her dark-brown hair out of her face and place a kiss on her forehead. Thankfully, she doesn’t even stir.