Nothing Lasts Forever (The Montebellos Book 4)

by Clare Connelly

  “Come on, come on,” she muttered under her breath as traffic snaked west. Finally she arrived at the airport. Security took forever, and once through she had only a few minutes left to run to her gate before boarding was open. There was no time to visit the bathroom, no time for anything. Somewhere during the short flight she had three spare seconds to be grateful that Ashley’s obvious shock at Lauren’s appearance had cajoled Lauren into showering for the first time in about a week, and that morning she’d actually pulled on a denim skirt and clean t-shirt. But how could she even think of such things when he was lying in a hospital bed?

  “Oh, God.” She closed her eyes and remembered his powerful frame pulling himself up that damned cliff, remembered the way his body had commanded it, the way he’d laughed off her concerns. “Damn you.”

  “Eh?” The woman beside Lauren asked, so she shook her head, unwilling to enter into any conversation with anyone.

  Once the plane touched down she stood, willing any flight attendant to dared remind her to wait for the seatbelt sign to be switched off. There was no waiting. She needed to get to Raf.

  With no luggage to collect, she fled through the airport unencumbered, bursting onto the footpath and looking left then right for the taxi rank. She cut to the front of it.

  “I’m terribly sorry, it’s an emergency,” she explained, and perhaps the wild state of her hair and appearance and something in her eyes conveyed the fear she was feeling because the man nodded and waved.

  “Si, si, certo.”

  She pressed her hands together in a gesture of praying. “Thank you so much.”

  The taxi attendant guided her to a car at the front of the rank and she slipped into it, giving the address of the hospital – the largest one in the region and where she was guessing he’d been taken. She loaded up the map on her phone so she could follow the driver’s route herself.

  She prayed the entire way there. She prayed to everything and everyone, she begged and made silent deals and treaties, she begged and she fought back tears because this was a time to be strong.

  They reached the hospital and she tapped her credit card, stepping out of the car with haste and scanning the entrance before she broke into a run.

  “Signor Montebello,” she said at the counter, apologising to a woman who’d probably been next in line. “Please.”

  The woman looked at her screen and shook her head. “I’m sorry, madam, but I cannot confirm that we have a patient by that name.”

  Lauren slapped her palm against the counter, refusing to believe she could be stopped at this point.

  “Please,” she groaned. “It’s an emergency.”

  The woman behind the counter was resolute though.

  Lauren swallowed a curse, stepping aside, trying to get her frazzled brain to work out what to do next. But what was there? She couldn’t stalk the critical care ward, hoping to see him.

  She wouldn’t be allowed on the ward, anyway. It was family only.

  Her heart squeezed. She turned back to the woman behind the counter, barely managing to wait until she’d finished looking after someone else before pushing against the bench. “Can you at least tell me his condition?”

  She shook her head but there was sympathy in her eyes now. “I cannot. My apologies, madam.”

  Lauren groaned, walking towards the doors, tapping her fingers against the side of her head. She needed to think.

  She paced back and forth, her mind too fogged with worry to activate, her legs like jelly as the rush of adrenaline that had brought her here fell away, leaving only despair and panic in its place.

  “Lauren?”

  She didn’t hear her name at first.

  “Lauren? Is that you?”

  She stopped walking and looked around, then almost burst into tears at the sight of Maddie – Nico’s wife – walking through the doors. Estelle was asleep in her arms, a beautiful, sleeping bundle of pink.

  “Hi,” Lauren nodded, too desperate for news to say anything else. “How’s Raf?”

  Maddie frowned. “I thought you left Italy?”

  Didn’t she understand? Lauren didn’t have time for small talk. She needed answers, damn it.

  “I did. I’m back. How is he?”

  Maddie was – frustratingly – not on the same wavelength. She paused as she moved one hand into her pocket and pulled out a dummy, putting it in Estelle’s little mouth. “Otherwise she wakes up at the sound of a pin dropping,” Maddie explained. “Raf,” she nodded, as if only just remembering. “He’s out of danger. Off life support.”

  Lauren had to reach behind her for support.

  “He lost a lot of blood,” Maddie explained.

  “Oh my God.”

  Maddie’s expression shifted and then she put one hand on Lauren’s forearm. “Do you want to see him?”

  She shook her head because in that moment, she was terrified. She couldn’t see him. He was going to die. She was going to lose him and she’d never told him how she felt. She’d done exactly what he’d accused her of and run away rather than have the courage to face what he meant to her. It wasn’t too late to be brave, though.

  “Yes. I need to see him.”

  If Maddie thought that was strange, she didn’t say. “This way.”

  Lauren fell into step beside her, barely conscious of anything as they moved through the hospital. She was grateful Maddie didn’t attempt small talk – she wasn’t capable of it. She kept her eyes trained straight ahead. The lift pinged open and they walked past a nurse’s station, and into a ward full of buzzing and beeping machines.

  Memories punched her in the gut.

  She prayed some more, begging and bartering. She couldn’t let him die.

  A large room sat at the end of the ward. There were large windows, but blinds had been drawn.

  Maddie knocked and the door sprung open, Nico on the other side. His smile was grim as he greeted Maddie then his eyes moved to Lauren.

  “Lauren? Hey. I didn’t realise you were still in Italy.” He kissed her on both cheeks in the Italian fashion.

  Lauren nodded stiffly, but she only had eyes for Raf. She was conscious of the others – not all of them, but some: Luca and Max sat in chairs against the wall. Fiero was pacing by the window. And in the bed in the middle of the room was Raf. His eyes were shut, his chest moving in a good – no, a great – sign that he was breathing unaided. His colour was pale, indicating – just as Maddie had said – that he’d lost a lot of blood. She crossed to his chart and lifted it from the holster, reading the medication instructions as if she could understand what had happened.

  “He’s out of immediate danger,” Maddie said again, moving closer.

  Lauren looked at her, nodding, but the chart didn’t give enough information.

  “He suffered blood loss. From?”

  “His side and back,” Maddie offered, a far from sufficient explanation.

  Lauren nodded, seeing only his body as it had been the last time they’d made love. When he’d curled around her and she’d realised how deeply she loved him.

  “Any broken bones?”

  Silence.

  She jerked her gaze to Maddie’s face. “Maddie?”

  “I – they – he’s fractured a vertebrae, possibly damaged his spinal chord. They’re not sure yet what that will mean.”

  “Oh, God.” She nodded, because the ambivalence was definitely not a good sign. As if to confirm that, and because she couldn’t help herself, she reached for one of his feet and squeezed it. He didn’t react.

  All of her thoughts were for Raf and how this would affect him. To lose the movement in a limb was not easy to deal with, and for someone like Raf who lived to challenge himself physically?

  For several moments she stood there and it didn’t occur to her to feel like an outsider, or to ask herself if they were wondering why she was there. She couldn’t have been anywhere else and maybe they just understood that?

  “Lauren?” She looked towards Luca. He stood,
walking towards her. “Would you like a coffee? Tea?”

  She nodded, his kindness reaching inside and soothing her. “Please. Anything.” And then, as an afterthought. “How’s Yaya?”

  “Beside herself,” Luca grimaced. “Waiting for him to come home.” He looked towards the bed and Lauren nodded. Waiting was all they could do.

  He was dreaming. Her voice was in his mind, his ears, her voice was all around him. He lay there with his eyes shut and listened, all too familiar with these damned dreams. If he opened his eyes, she’d disappear and he’d be alone again. Here, like this, he had Lauren, and he was happy.

  She watched him sleep with the coffee cup braced between her hands. No one spoke for long stretches of time. People came and went. Maddie and Nico left with Estelle. Fiero arrived shortly after, carrying a bunch of flowers Elodie had picked. Night came and then it was only Luca, Gabe and Lauren.

  “Are you working nearby?” Luca prompted, hands clasped between legs that were spread wide in his seat.

  She shook her head.

  Gabe’s phone rang. He grumbled something then answered it. A few grunts, before he hung up. “It’s Yaya. I’m going to go to her.”

  Lauren looked at Gabe, her heart anguished. “Why don’t you both go? I’ll wait here with him. I can call if anything happens.”

  “You don’t have to do that,” Luca demurred. But he looked dreadful, as though he hadn’t slept in a week.

  “I want to. Honestly. Tell Yaya I’m here and she won’t be worried.”

  Luca hesitated.

  She sighed. “You can’t wear yourself out. He’s likely to face a long road back to recovery. It’s better for him to have a fresh support crew. Go home, rest. Come back in the morning. I’ve got this.”

  And perhaps because they’d only seen her in a medical light, they stood and did as she’d said, Luca pausing only to hand over a business card with his private mobile number. She slid it into her back pocket then nodded, waiting until they’d left.

  Her heart raced. She closed the door and made sure the blinds were slatted closed then moved towards the bed. At its edge, she kicked off her shoes then carefully sat on the edge. He didn’t move. With a muffled sob, she shifted her body, wriggling to lie down beside him, an arm over his chest, another tousling his hair. He was warm. He was breathing.

  She told herself he’d be okay.

  Nothing else mattered. Not that she loved him and he didn’t love her. Not that he’d let her go, glad apparently that their relationship was over. Nothing except his health and his wellness.

  It was the best dream he’d had in a very long time. This wasn’t just a dream. It was more. She was warm at his side, her body moulded to his just like that last night. He breathed in and – smelled her? That coconut and lavender and honey and berries, all the sweet things that reminded him of her. He made a sound like her name and opened his eyes, turning his head so fast his vision flooded with blinding white light so he couldn’t focus for a second, but as the white slowly receded he saw her – Lauren Monroe.

  “Is it you?”

  His voice was unrecognisable. Dark and gruff. He stared at her, needing her to say something, needing her to confirm that she was real.

  But she nodded, lifting a hand to his cheek, touching him gently, her fingertips so familiar. He groaned, turning his head more slowly this time so he could press a kiss to her hand.

  “Oh, Raf,” she whispered. “What have you done to yourself?”

  He frowned, the last few days a blur. He’d been conscious for some of it, but had been so amped up on painkillers that it was hard to work out what was real and what wasn’t.

  “I fell.”

  “I know,” she whispered, moving away from him.

  “Please –,” he wasn’t strong enough, goddamn it, to reach for her like he wanted to. “Please stay where you are.”

  Her face was so pale. So thin. Had something happened to Lauren? Was that why she was in hospital? Nothing made sense.

  “I should get a doctor. You need to be checked.”

  “I’ve been checked and poked and prodded.” He pressed a finger to her side. “What I need is for you to be near me. Please.”

  Please. The word cut through her. Please broke her heart. She nodded. “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. For as long as you want me to stay.”

  “And if I want you to stay forever?”

  She stared at him, the words flying through her like fireworks and lightning bolts. But he wasn’t in his right mind. He’d fallen halfway down a cliff before landing awkwardly on a ledge. There was no way he hadn’t suffered enough of a knock to make his mind clouded. She couldn’t hold him to anything he said right now.

  “Your family were here. I sent them away to get some rest. I gather they’ve been at your side since – since it happened.”

  He grimaced. “Yes. I’ve been aware of that.”

  “Do you know what happened to you?”

  “I had a run in with a bird,” he muttered, lifting a hand to his head.

  “I mean in hospital.”

  He frowned. “No.”

  He moved in bed a little and then frowned. “I can’t –,” he moved again. Lauren watched as comprehension dawned. “Cristo, Lauren, I can’t feel my left leg.”

  She wanted to cry. She wanted to cry for him, at this moment, but she didn’t, because Rafaello was strong and determined and if anyone could handle an injury like this it was him. She put her hand on his and nodded. “They’re not sure what’s happened,” she said quietly. “It might be temporary.”

  “Might be?” He nodded, frowning, pulling his hand away. “I see.”

  “Raf, you have to wait and see. Give your body time to heal –,”

  “That’s why you’re here?” He fixed her with a level stare, and she felt, for a moment, as though they were back at Villa Fortune and everything was as it had been on that awful last morning. “You felt sorry for me so you came here to assuage your conscience?”

  She stared at him, at a loss for how he could even imagine that. “No.”

  “You came here to assure yourself I was fine, so you could go back to ignoring me?”

  “Ignoring you?” She didn’t mean to fight with him, but his accusation smarted.

  “You can go away again, Lauren. I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’m not dying, I’m right here, and whether my leg recovers or not I don’t need your damned sympathy.”

  All her professional training was telling her this was a natural reaction, that he was saying things he didn’t mean, but her heart was crushing under his words. Not that the words themselves were hurting her but that he could believe them for even a second.

  She moved to his side of the bed, her hands on her hips, her eyes boring down at him. “You’re crazy if you think I came here out of guilt or sympathy or for any damned reason besides one.”

  “And what’s that?”

  “Like you don’t know.”

  He glared right back. “What?”

  “You told me we could see each other and it wouldn’t mean anything. You told me we could have sex and I could walk away without a backwards glance, but guess what? You were wrong. I fell in love with you Rafaello Montebello and I don’t know if you love me, I don’t know if you’re interested in ever loving anyone, but I do know that if you’re hurt, I’m hurt, and there’s nowhere else I can possibly be right now than at your bedside. So don’t you dare even think about telling me to leave, because you’ll be wasting your words. And I know how to use this equipment and if I have to intubate you just to shut you up then I will. Got it?”

  The only sound in the room was her harsh breathing and the whirring of the machines. She stared at him and waited, and when he still didn’t speak, eventually her breathing slowed and she moved towards the chairs, the surge of adrenaline receding, leaving only shock in its place. “I’m staying,” she said quietly, stubbornly.

  Before she could sit down though, he lifted a hand, motioning for her to come bac
k to him. She hesitated and then did, crossing the floor slowly, nervously.

  “I’m…not sure if I’m dreaming.”

  She shook her head. “You’re not.”

  “How do I know that? Every night I dream of you. All the time. And then you’re gone again. How do I know –,”

  She leaned forward, pressing her lips to his, so she felt his groan reverberate through her body.

  “Does that feel real to you?”

  “Yes. It feels a thousand things, and real is definitely one of them.” She moved to pull away but he lifted a hand and caught it at the back of her head, holding her where she was. His strength was lessened by the accident but she wasn’t really interested in fighting him, anyway.

  “Say it again so I know I’m not about to make an ass of myself.”

  She eyed him quizzically. “That I love you?”

  “Cristo.” His hand ran through her hair, to her shoulder, down her arm and finally to her hand. “You love me?”

  “Yes.”

  “I didn’t know – I couldn’t have even hoped –,”

  She shook her head. “It’s okay. You don’t have to worry. I know that you don’t feel that way for me, but I still want to be here, to help you recover.”

  He glowered. “No. I do not want you to stay as my nurse.”

  She shook her head. “I didn’t mean –,”

  “You told me you loved your husband. That you’d never love anyone else.”

  “I was wrong.” She bit down on her lip, curving her hand into his, her heart skipping beats as she felt the rightness of this fall into place. “I love Thom and I always will. But our relationship was so different to this. We were best friends, and had been since we were children. I loved him, but so much of our marriage was based on my wanting to give him everything I could in life, because I knew he wouldn’t live long. He was my best friend, Raf.”

  “I don’t – you don’t need to downplay it. It’s enough for me to know you can love me as well.”

  She nodded, his words filling her heart in a way she hadn’t known she needed. “With you, it was so different. I felt like I’d been struck by lightning the first moment we met. You answered every question within my soul. I wouldn’t have said love at first sight was possible but what else explains this?”