Chapter 13 - THE NIGHT MATTEO'S DAUGHTER WAS BORN|
By the time Leonardo arrived at the apartment, I was sitting on the couch with my shoes beside me.
My hospital bag was packed.
Matteo's gray sweater lay folded on top.
And my hands were trembling so badly I couldn't fasten the strap.
"Emma."
Leonardo knelt in front of me.
"What happened?"
"My blood pressure."
He looked toward my stomach.
"The baby?"
"I don't know."
My voice broke.
"Dr. Carter wants me at the hospital."
Leonardo picked up the bag.
"Then we're going."
I tried to stand.
A wave of dizziness made me grip his shoulder.
"Easy."
He supported me until I was steady.
"I'm sorry."
He frowned.
"For what?"
"Everything."
He stared at me.
"Emma."
My eyes filled.
"I know you have so much happening."
He shook his head.
"Nothing is more important than getting you medical care."
I looked away.
"I feel like I'm causing trouble."
Leonardo crouched again.
"Listen to me."
I met his eyes.
"You are not a problem to be solved."
His voice softened.
"You're my brother's wife, and you're part of this family."
Tears spilled down my cheeks.
"And even if you weren't, you'd still deserve help."
For a moment, I couldn't speak.
Then I whispered, "Thank you."
He stood.
"Now let me carry the bag before Matteo finds a way to haunt me for making you lift it."
I laughed despite the fear.
"He's probably already judging your driving."
Leonardo almost smiled.
"Then I'd better behave."
The drive to the hospital felt endless.
Streetlights flashed across the windshield.
Rain began tapping against the glass.
I sat in the back seat with one hand over my stomach, whispering the same words again and again.
"Stay with me, sweetheart."
Leonardo glanced toward me.
"She's a Moretti."
I looked up.
"That means she's stubborn."
I managed a weak smile.
"Just like her daddy."
When we arrived, the medical team was waiting.
Dr. Carter examined me and ordered additional tests.
My blood pressure was elevated.
The headache had worsened.
And after reviewing the results, she explained that I had developed preeclampsia, a pregnancy complication that required hospital treatment and close monitoring.
I stared at her.
"Is my baby going to die?"
Her expression softened.
"We're taking this seriously because we want to protect both of you."
My eyes filled.
"Can you save her?"
"Our team is preparing for the possibility that an early delivery may be safest."
I gripped the blanket.
"But I'm only seven months pregnant."
"I know."
She sat beside me.
"We'll explain each step, monitor both of you, and involve the neonatal team."
I looked toward Leonardo.
He was standing near the door.
His face had gone pale.
Dr. Carter continued explaining the treatment and possible decisions.
I tried to listen.
But all I could think about was Matteo.
He was supposed to be here.
He was supposed to hold my hand.
He was supposed to tell me I was brave even when I didn't feel brave.
He was supposed to hear our baby's first cry.
"Emma?"
Dr. Carter's voice brought me back.
"Do you understand what we've discussed?"
I nodded slowly.
"Yes."
"Do you have questions?"
I looked down.
"Will she know I love her?"
The doctor paused.
Then smiled gently.
"Your little girl is already being cared for by people who know how much you love her."
I began crying.
Leonardo stepped closer.
"Can I stay?"
Dr. Carter nodded.
"As long as Emma wants you here."
I reached for him.
"Please."
He took my hand.
For the next several hours, the medical team monitored me closely.
I received treatment while the doctors assessed the safest course.
Leonardo stayed beside me through every frightening conversation.
He didn't pretend to know the answers.
He didn't make promises the doctors couldn't guarantee.
He simply listened, asked questions when I was too overwhelmed, and reminded me that I had the right to understand what was happening.
At one point, I began crying uncontrollably.
"I can't do this."
Leonardo leaned closer.
"You don't have to do it all at once."
I shook my head.
"I'm scared."
"I know."
"I want Matteo."
His expression broke.
"So do I."
For several seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then Leonardo reached into his jacket pocket.
He took out something small.
A photograph.
Matteo and me at the courthouse.
The same photograph I'd handed him on the night of the engagement dinner.
"I've been carrying this," Leonardo whispered.
I stared at it.
"Why?"
He smiled through tears.
"Because my brother looks happy."
I touched Matteo's face.
Leonardo placed the photograph beside my pillow.
"And because I think he'd want to be here."
I covered my mouth.
"Thank you."
Near midnight, Dr. Carter returned with the obstetric team.
My condition had become more concerning despite treatment.
After reviewing the findings, the doctors recommended delivery rather than prolonging the pregnancy.
They carefully explained the reasons, the surgical procedure, and the additional care a premature baby might need.
I listened with tears running down my face.
Then I signed the consent forms after my questions had been answered.
They were my forms.
My decisions.
Nobody was hiding the documents.
Nobody was making arrangements behind my back.
And that simple difference meant more than I could explain.
As the medical team prepared, Leonardo stood beside me.
"Emma, I'm going to be right here until they take you in."
I held his hand.
"Promise you'll stay for her."
His eyes filled.
"What?"
"If something happens to me."
He shook his head.
"Don't."
"Leonardo."
My voice trembled.
"Promise me you'll love her."
He looked directly at me.
"She's already loved."
I started crying.
He squeezed my hand.
"And you're going to have every chance we can give you to tell her that yourself."
Shortly afterward, I was taken into the operating room.
The lights were bright.
The doctors spoke calmly.
And I kept staring at the photograph of Matteo that a nurse had placed safely with my belongings.
I tried to remember the sound of his laugh.
The warmth of his hands.
The way he used to kiss my forehead when I was worried.
Then I closed my eyes.
"Matteo," I whispered.
"Please watch over her."
The minutes passed in a blur.
I heard instruments being prepared.
I heard the medical team communicating.
And then, suddenly, there was a sound.
Small.
Thin.
But unmistakable.
A baby crying.
My heart stopped.
Then I began sobbing.
"Is that her?"
A nurse smiled.
"That's your daughter."
I couldn't stop crying.
"She's alive?"
"She's here, and the neonatal team is caring for her."
I tried to lift my head.
"Can I see her?"
A nurse brought her close enough for me to glimpse a tiny face beneath a soft hospital blanket before the neonatal team continued their care.
She was so small.
Her eyes were closed.
Her cheeks were pink.
And for one extraordinary second, I saw Matteo in the delicate shape of her mouth.
"Hello, sweetheart," I whispered.
My daughter moved.
I began crying harder.
"I'm your mommy."
They took her to the neonatal intensive care unit for the specialized support she needed.
I knew that was necessary.
But watching her leave was the hardest moment of my life.
"Please take care of her," I whispered.
The nurse looked at me.
"We will."
Later, when I woke in recovery, Leonardo was sitting beside me.
His eyes were red.
"Emma?"
I turned toward him.
"Where's my baby?"
He leaned closer.
"She's in the NICU."
I gripped his hand.
"Is she okay?"
"She's receiving treatment, and the doctors are watching her closely."
Tears filled my eyes.
"Did you see her?"
Leonardo nodded.
His face changed.
For the first time that night, he smiled.
"She's beautiful."
I started crying.
"Does she look like Matteo?"
He covered his mouth.
Then nodded.
"Emma."
His voice broke.
"She has his nose."
I laughed through my tears.
"He always hated his nose."
Leonardo smiled.
"I know."
Then he reached into his pocket.
He took out a little hospital photograph.
My daughter was lying in an incubator beneath a soft blanket, surrounded by the equipment helping the medical team care for her.
I stared at her tiny face.
"She's perfect."
Leonardo nodded.
"She is."
For a while, neither of us spoke.
Then he asked, "Have you thought about a name?"
I looked at the photograph.
Matteo and I had once made a list of baby names on the back of a grocery receipt.
Most of them were ridiculous.
He'd suggested naming a daughter after his favorite Italian dessert.
I'd threatened to name a son after the restaurant's espresso machine.
But there had been one name we both loved.
One he'd written at the top of the list.
"Sofia," I whispered.
Leonardo smiled.
"Sofia."
I nodded.
"Sofia Grace Moretti."
His eyes filled.
"That's beautiful."
I looked at him.
"Matteo said Sofia meant wisdom."
Leonardo nodded.
"He would have loved it."
I touched the photograph.
"Then that's her name."
Leonardo leaned forward and kissed my forehead gently.
"Welcome to the family, Sofia Grace."
I smiled through tears.
Outside, the rain had stopped.
The city lights shimmered against the windows.
And somewhere down the hallway, a tiny girl was fighting to grow stronger.
My daughter.
Matteo's daughter.
The child someone had tried to steal before she was born.
But the story wasn't finished.
May you like
Because while I was recovering, Detective Hayes received the evidence that would finally reveal what happened on the night Matteo died.
And this time, there would be nowhere left for the truth to hide.
