Word count: 3875

Heavily unedited

Diego's POV

*

My mom was happy when I left her at home. She'd also made sure I had a stomach full of her macaroni salad, complaining about how I was too thin and took the company business too seriously. Like, wouldn't the company crumple to the ground if the management and the CEO didn't take it seriously?!

Few weeks ago, I'd sat with her and had a long talk with her and some confessions about what my dad had done and his reason for doing them. And she had broken down, told me to leave her for a while and then later she'd gotten back to her usual self, doting on me before making me escort her back to the hospital where my dad was.

I drove to the hospital to check on my old man and then spent the next thirty something minutes giving him a rundown of everything that needed his intervention or his signatures.

"You look so thin." He commented out of the blue, promoting my next action as I looked up at him expressionlessly.

"Thanks. It tends to happen to someone when they suddenly have to run a company even though they don't know much about that. You know, they never prepared for it and the burden suddenly fell on their shoulders." I shrugged with a bored look.

Then I refocused my attention on the monthly audit, giving him a rundown until he sighed heavily, notifying me he wanted to say something again.

"You should go to her." He said softly, a hint of what I detected to be pity in his tone. Well, that wasn't what I'd expected to hear from him.

I looked up at my dad, surprised he was telling me to go to a certain 'her'. He told me she would ruin me. He'd been ranting about how she had gotten into my head and whatnot, how she was between me and Cindy whom I'd known for years. Cindy was now married and had a baby boy. She got married to Mark, my friend who'd made a drunken confession two years ago that he'd slept with her and caught feelings.

That was why I low-key felt disgusted when she still made advances at me after the drunk fuck with him. But they were now together, only a few months into their happily ever after.

Also, I felt a little guilty when I accused Cindy of sleeping with me and Mark and also Javier, one of our other friends the night we had a fight because of the text she sent Adrian through my phone. Cindy hadn't slept with Javier but I'd said it to hurt her and even the sex with Mark had been a drunken mistake. It was when they met again after a while and slept together the second time that she got pregnant. And he immediately put a ring on her finger, making sure she wouldn't leave him again and travel across the world to stay away from him.

The thought reminded me of what I'd lost with the love of my own life.

"You hate her." I gritted out even though I felt my emotions conflicting. Anger. Relief. Pent up frustration. Longing...for her.

"I don't hate her. I was once like you, head over heels for my wife. In fact, still feel that way towards your mother. I was merely upset back then because you found a reason to stay away for that long. She was the reason you stayed away from us."

"Please drop the talk about my love life. I have work to get done." I gritted out.

"Work will always be there. She won't, at least not if you keep yourself away and deny you both what you long for." He leaned back into his pillow and cleared his throat, his frail hand scratching his jaw with a frown. "And I don't think you'll enjoy another man making love to her-"

"Dad!" I got up, throwing him a nasty look as a scowl took possession over my face, a vivid image of his descriptions already forming a scene in my head. A dangerous scene that shouldn't be spoken of, talk less imagined for even a second.

She wouldn't sleep with someone else, would she?

What if she did? We'd stopped having sex since the issue last year, though we did it several weeks ago in my condo.

She wouldn't sleep with someone else.

She loved me. She told me how much she loved me when I made love to her that night after I came home tipsy.

I heave a frustrated sigh and felt my body tensing up at the memories of that night when I pretended to be drunk so I wouldn't have to think of her beating herself up because of what happened. Kara told me she'd been blaming herself.

Why would she? She was the one carrying our baby, she shouldn't even think for once that the miscarriage had been her fault. If anything, I was to blame.

"Earth to David." My dad called and I blinked, my focus returning to the present. "You're squeezing the papers too tight." He had a smug smile as his chin lifted slightly in the direction of the papers I'd truly balled in my fist.

A defeated sigh escaped my lips. "I think I need to take a break for a while, go back to Italy and sort the other company management procedures over there. I'll call you and make sure your assistant is updated on every decision there is to be made."

"Do that. And get your girl back before someone else does. I see the blonde boy has been following her around more often these days." The scowl slipped onto his face while my eyes narrowed down at him.

"You're not keeping tabs on her dad, not anymore. If you don't call those agents in the shadows off, I might elope with her and I mean it for good this time. You and mom will never see me again." I warned and he raised his arms up in surrender.

"Alright, fine. We have a deal. Bye. I must see a ring on her finger by the next time you return to California. Now get out and get your girl back." He slid into his blanket and pulled the covers over his head, no doubt sulking because of my threat about elopement. I couldn't care less.

My strides were fast and purposeful as I walked down the hallway and past the lobby, thoughts of my fiery blonde clouding my mind.

I marched to my Porsche and slammed the door when I got in, clenching my hands into a fist on my thighs.

I hadn't even thought about her all day, which was a big stretch considering the fact that she owned a duplex in my heart where she lived and roamed about all day long. Just today, I'd intentionally immersed myself in work so I wouldn't have to think about her, her lovely smile, her beautiful eyes or the way she would narrow them at me if I did or said something she found offensive.

"Shit. I'm fucked." I muttered and picked my handkerchief to clean my face, feeling my stomach clench a little.

We'd actually been communicating more frequently than we'd been doing in the previous months.

The last time I called her was about four days ago. I always did the video calling, like a fucking creep. I shouldn't be calling her but I couldn't resist seeing her docile expression as she walked on eggshells around me as if I would crack at anytime.

She would send texts randomly to ask how I was doing and carefully remind me to eat while I would FaceTime her on some nights and ask random questions about how she was getting along with Amos or if she restocked the kitchen with food.

That wasn't what I really wanted to know. I just couldn't bring myself to ask those personal questions. Not yet.

The instant craving of her voice bloomed inside me and I found myself picking my phone and calling her on FaceTime.

She picked on the second ring and I could hear laughter in the background as her pretty face came into view. She'd applied makeup, which meant she went out or was currently on her way out.

A slight move of her head backwards gave me a view of the round neck of the baggy shirt she usually wore at home sometimes. That meant she was at home.

"Adrian?" I frowned. Did she have guests over at my place? Did she invite people to come over?

"Diego." She murmured, chuckling in what I guess was an aftermath of the laughter she'd shared with her company.

"How are you doing?" I eyed her face, noticing she was flushed and her eyes were bright. Was she drunk? This was the expression she usually had whenever she was drunk and over her head.

"I'm fine, you? How's work going over there?" She moved away as the voices got drowned out by the silence that reigned around her. She'd probably moved to another location.

"Work is just the same as always." I didn't want to talk about work right now.

"We should plan our outing for the next few days." A voice that sounded eerily familiar called from the background and I tensed as I recognized the voice. It was the voice of that fucking spaghetti head. The damned fucker was still hanging around her. My eyes clouded with irritation which I tried to mask from her.

"Do you have company?" I asked as cooly as I could.

"Yes. Declan is-"

"Declan? Mummy's boy?" My gaze turned frosty as if I didn't already know he was with her and I relaxed into my chair, using my left thumb to rub my chin. I needed to get a shave.

And as soon as possible too.

"Yes. I- let me explain. I'm at his place. My brother arrived in Italy with Lola yesterday and we'll be visiting Kara briefly so we met up at Declan's place. Daniel recently got engaged to Lola." She explained quickly with an innocent expression and a considerate amount of the irritation burning inside me fizzled out.

"You don't have to explain yourself Adrian." Yes you have to. I want to know what he wants from you, why he's everywhere you are. I don't want him flirting with you with his boyish grin and lustful eyes.

"Well I don't want misunderstandings between us anymore...even though..." She trailed off and heaved a soft sigh.

"It's fine. I'm almost done with my work here so I should be heading home." And talking to you about us because I'm tired of this constant back and forth.

"Oh. Take care then. And be safe." She gave me a platonic, warm smile that made me wonder if I needed to shake her into a full state of consciousness regarding the fact that she shouldn't be giving me such a bland smile because I didn't want things to be over between us just like that or if I should be grateful she was giving me the space I needed from her.

"You too." I ended the call, lost in my thoughts as I drove towards my suite. On getting there, I packed up my things and called my assistant to make the necessary preparations. It was time to head home.

*

I was coming down with something.

Ever since the plane landed yesterday evening, I'd been locked in my home. Apart from my PA and the security guard, no one knew I'd arrived to Italy.

But even the meeting I should've attended immediately I arrived had to be postponed till next week because I'd fallen sick shortly after my arrival.

I could feel it in the occasional ache in my eyes and in the slight throbbing of my head. Those were the giveaway.

The moment I dropped my half eaten plate of toast on the other side of the bed, I climbed into it and heaved a deep sigh, feeling the tension ease out of my muscles as I allowed my thoughts to drift to my plans for the next few weeks.

I woke up with a groan, turning on my side. What time was it? I'd been indoors all day.

The headache had subsided but not the aching of my eyeballs. It had been a while since I went for my regular checkup at the hospital. I should do that.

Who could I call at this time of the day?

Who could accompany me during this period of time? Normally, I was supposed to call Amos since he'd been staying with me for a while. But oddly enough, all I could think about as I gently massaged my temple was how I should call Adrian and listen to her beautiful voice.

And that was exactly what I did after taking a piss and washing my face.

"Hey." I said softly when she picked.

"Diego? Hi. How are you doing? How's work over there? How's your dad's health? I thought you were busy since you didn't reply my message since last night."

"I'm fine, everything is good. I see you're still not back home." I couldn't separate the glumness from my voice even if I tried.

"No- wait, have you gotten back? I haven't moved my things."

"It's fine. I'm not asking you to move and yes, I arrived yesterday." I coughed a little, hoping she wasn't thinking of moving out of here to Declan's place.

"Wait, why is your voice so croaky?"

"I think I'm sick. I only noticed it when I arrived at the house-" I heard a sharp intake of breath before the call got disconnected. Frowning, I tried her line again but this time it just kept ringing.

Feeling slightly weak, I fell back on the bed and wondered if I could sleep some more because it felt like the sleepiness had suddenly been dragged out of me. Then the ringing of the doorbell twenty something minutes later had me frowning as I trudged to the door to open it.

And there she was, in palazzo and a faded black shirt, worry lines etched on her forehead as she tugged her lower lip between her teeth in obvious panic. Her eyes raked over me in my lack of clothes because my torso was bare and my boxers clung to my lower part.

One minute I was staring at her, wondering if I was hallucinating and the next I found her fussing over me, pulling me towards my couch as she swiftly shut the door her and raining questions.

I found myself staring at her.

Fuck, I love this woman.

This is it. I love her, regardless of the break she made me take away from her, regardless of whatever we'd gone through together and how our relationship had been threatened, I love her. So damn much it hurt.

Oh, how much I love her.

Love supersedes all. I pulled her into me swiftly so she had to rest her palms on my shoulders to support herself. But immediately, she leaned back and ran her palms over my forehead and chin.

"Diego, are you okay? Are you in pain?" She asked softly.

"Yes." I'm okay. Now that you're here. I shook my head because I'd just said yes without elaborating on the response.

She took my 'yes' as a sign that I was hurting and her eyes widened.

"You're hurting? Where? We should go to the hospital. Put on your clothes." She got up and started walking in the direction of my room and I followed her, my eyes swiftly taking in the curve of her ass in that palazzo. I always loved palazzo on her. It tended to accentuate her hips and the curve oof her delectable ass.

My gaze traveled up to hers as I walked into the room behind her to see her rummaging through my box, which still hadn't been sorted out since I arrived yesterday.

"Adrian." I pursed my lips grimly, feeling nostalgia at the thought of her fussing over me like this like she'd done when I had a stomach bug sometime last year. Just when I learnt of the nature of my dad's sickness. I'd been worrying a lot that time and I rarely ate, mostly throwing myself into endless work. It was from that time I developed this eating disorder I was still battling with.

"Jesus, it's serious isn't it? I should've come here earlier, if only if known you were home alone and sick. We can still head to the hospital now even though it's well late into the night. I'll drive-" she kept rambling when I moved closer to her.

"Baby, shh." I placed my right index finger on her lips and tensed slightly when the warmth of her breath caressed the back oh my hand. She shook her head, staring at me in disbelief.

"Diego? What did you just call me?" A hand flew to her mouth, her eyes widening. "It's just a small sickness right? You're not being so sweet towards me because you have some terminal disease are you? You even called me baby." She leveled me an inquisitive stare, her teeth biting the inside of her right cheek while my heart fell into my stomach because I knew why she'd think that way.

She had lost her ex boyfriend to cancer and then she had lost her mom too to breast cancer.

The trauma was still there that she would leave me to some terrible sickness.

When I didn't answer because I was too busy staring foolishly, her expression fell.

"You know, up till this very moment, I still believed we could somehow make up and get back together. I still thought there was a silver of hope for us. Why does it have to be like this Diego? I loved you. No. I love you and you're not fucking leaving me, even for this sickness. What exactly is it? You will fight it, I promise you. And I won't let you go, Diego. I won't give up on you-" I pulled her against me, my fingers curling around the hair at the back of her head as I registered the tremors of her body against mine.

"Shhh. Breathe." I murmured against her ears. Her chokes wrecked havoc inside me as she cried louder.

"I don't want you to die." She sobbed against my neck.

"I won't die. I can't."

"Promise?"

She leaned back a little and I quickly reached a hand to palm her right cheek, gently wiping the tears away.

"Don't cry." I pecked her lips. "Please don't cry." I pecked her again. "I'm not leaving you." I pecked her nose. "I could never leave you even if I wanted to." Then her left cheek. "I love you." Then the right cheek. "Please don't cry." Then her forehead. "I love you so much baby."

She cried even harder after at this, the sounds of her sobs squeezing my heart as I stared at her helplessly before pulling her into another warm and assuring embrace.

"Don't lie to me Diego. I don't know if I'll recover from it if I lost you too."

"Cross my heart and hope to never die." I muttered, taking in the suddenness of her expression as she grimaced before her eyes cleared, turning bright.

"Diego.." She said scoldingly, still grimacing and managing to smile at the same time. "It's cross my heart and hope to die', not 'hope to never die."

"Oh. But I'm not dying so I don't have to say that. I wish to spend a long time alive and also need to be by your side.

The light in her eyes dimmed a little and she looked away from me, her countenance instantly changing.

"I'm sorry for everything I put you through."

"And I'm sorry for everything you had to go through as well. How are you holding up?"

She looked away, her cheeks coloring. "I'm forty percent better than I was last year." She murmured with shame in her voice and in the way she avoided my gaze.

"That was a dark time in our lives. If only I'd stayed here and never came over to confront you that way in New York, you wouldn't have gotten the emotional stress and you wouldn't have lost our bab-" her gaze flew to me in a nanosecond.

"No Diego. What do you mean by that? Don't ever say that again. It was my fault. I should've been more observant, I should've been more aware of my own body."

"No it was mine."

"But-"

"Okay. I guess it's our fault then, and we should mourn the loss of our child together." I gritted out. I never knew I'd one day talk of mourning my own child.

Adrian tugged her upper lip between her teeth and I held her hands tightly, afraid she would bolt out of the room. I couldn't put it past her to do that.

"Do you think we can start again? Let's start again baby, from the very beginning." I demanded solemnly and eyed her face searchingly.

She gasped. "Diego? You're not saying this because of the miscarriage are you?"

"No. I tried to ignore your existence, I tried to let go of what we had but I can't. I'm stuck with you for a long time then, Because I really don't want to go anywhere else or be with anyone else, Adrian Houston. Can we start again? Please baby, I love you." My eyes brimmed as I awaited the response, hoping it would be sooner and not later because it would kill me to know she could decide not to be with me anymore.

"Oh my- fuck, yes Diego. Of course we can. Definitely." She lunged at me, her arms going around my neck while I winced a little due to the headache.

She must've noticed because she pulled back. "I have to get you some drugs. You're burning up. It's probably fever. And I'll make you some soup too. Rest properly, lie down." She guided me to lie down and I stared at her, the fatigue washing over me.

"Adrian?" I called as she walked towards the door, telling me she was going to the kitchen. She turned around and for some reason, her face flushed as she looked at me with soft eyes.

"Yes baby?" She purred, looking away a bit before dragging her eyes back to me shyly.

"Please prepare the porridge like you did the last time. It was delicious." I told her and her eyes widened as she stepped out, muttering about how I ate the porridge she'd kept for Amos that night.

I knew she kept the porridge for me. So I ate it when I got home in the middle of the night and also the next morning when I woke up before she could step out of her room.

I snuggled into my duvet and let my eyes flutter close in relief before fatigue washed over me and I slipped into a deep slumber.