CHAPTER 108: THE WEIGHT OF CARE

The late morning sun pushed softly through the bedroom curtains, filling the room with a warm golden light that brushed against the walls like a gentle reminder that the night had finally passed. Aria blinked awake slowly. Her body felt heavy, but not in pain. Just tired. Weighted from the remnants of the dream, the fear, and the medications the doctor had administered.

She lay still for a moment, listening.

The room was quiet.

Too quiet.

"Luca?" she murmured softly.

No answer came, though she saw his presence everywhere. His jacket draped over the chair. His phone on the nightstand. The indentation on the mattress where he had sat all night while watching her breathe.

But he was not in the room.

Aria exhaled slowly.

He must have stepped out for a moment.

To shower.

To speak to the doctor.

To command the guard rotation he insisted on doubling.

She shifted again. Her body protested faintly, but the sharp pain from the night before was gone. She laid her hand on her stomach.

"Good morning, little one," she whispered softly.

The baby shifted gently beneath her palm.

A soft, comforting flutter.

The smallest smile touched her lips.

She pushed herself up slowly. No pain. Just stiffness. Careful, she reminded herself. Luca’s words echoed in her mind.

Do not move unless I say you can.

She sighed.

He meant well. But she could not stay in bed forever. Her muscles felt stiff, and every instinct told her she needed movement, blood flow, something other than lying captive to fear.

She reached for the edge of the bed and slid to her feet.

Her legs trembled slightly, but it felt manageable. She braced herself with one hand on the bedpost as she took her first slow steps.

One foot.

Then another.

Her breathing stayed even.

See? she thought.

Not broken.

Not fragile glass.

Just pregnant.

She walked toward the balcony doors, drawn to the sunlight pressing warmly through the glass. She reached out, fingertips brushing against the curtain.

She never touched it.

A hand slid around her waist.

Firm. Gentle. Steady.

Aria’s breath caught as Luca’s body pressed close behind her, his warmth enveloping her before she could even turn around. His other hand rose to her cheek, guiding her face slightly to the side as he leaned in.

"You should not be standing," he murmured.

His voice was low, intimate, almost painful in its mixture of love and fear.

Aria closed her eyes briefly. "You scared me."

"You scare me every time you get out of bed," he whispered.

She turned in his arms, meeting his gaze.

And what she saw stopped her heart.

Not anger.

Not even frustration.

Fear.

Raw and uncovered.

"Luca..." she breathed softly.

His thumb brushed her cheek again, as if confirming she was real and upright and breathing. His hand at her waist stayed firm, steadying her as though she might fall any second.

"Why did you get up?" he asked quietly.

"I feel better," she said. "I just wanted to stretch. My body feels stiff."

"You could have called me," he said.

She softened. "You were not here."

"I was in the next room," he replied. "Speaking with the doctor."

Her brows lifted gently. "Everything is fine, right?"

He hesitated.

Her stomach tightened. "Luca."

He exhaled slowly. "The doctor wants you resting for at least forty eight hours. He said your body reacted to stress, not injury. But he is concerned about the potential for it to happen again."

Aria swallowed, her hand drifting to her belly.

Luca covered it with his own without hesitation.

"You need to be careful," he said softly. "More careful than before."

"Careful, yes," she agreed. "But not immobile. I cannot stay in bed for days."

"You can," he said. "You will."

Aria studied him.

The dark circles under his eyes.

The tension in his jaw.

The way his hand had not left her waist since he touched her.

He was unraveling beneath the surface.

She reached up and touched his cheek. "You did not sleep."

"I did not leave you," he said simply.

"You cannot watch me every second."

"Watch me," he said quietly. "I can."

Her breath trembled. "Luca, that is not healthy."

"For who?" he asked.

"For you," she whispered.

He stared at her for a long moment, then lowered his forehead to hers, his fingers curling protectively around her waist.

"You almost collapsed last night," he said. "That image has not left my mind."

"I did not collapse."

"You were close," he said. "Too close."

Her throat tightened. "I am okay now."

"You think I will relax because you said that?" he asked. "I know you. You downplay your pain. You did it yesterday, you did it last night, and now you are doing it again."

Aria sighed. "I am not trying to downplay anything. I just know my body."

Luca’s grip on her waist tightened slightly. "And I do not know it well enough to trust it."

Her eyes softened. "You cannot protect me from everything."

He lifted his head, meeting her eyes with a look so intense it made her pulse quicken.

"If something happens to you," he said slowly, "if I lose either of you, I will never recover."

The words hit her like a soft blow.

Not dramatic.

Not exaggerated.

Simply true.

She felt her expression soften. She lifted her hand and placed it over his heart.

"It was one scare," she whispered. "One moment."

"That is how tragedies begin," he said. "With one moment you dismiss."

Her throat tightened. "Luca..."

He leaned in, capturing her lips in a slow, desperate kiss. Not passionate. Not searching. Just grounding. Anchoring himself to her.

She melted into it, her hands sliding into his hair.

He pulled back and rested his forehead against hers again.

"You walk only when I am with you," he said softly. "Not before. Not after. Not alone."

She opened her mouth to argue.

He silenced her with a gentle touch to her lips.

"Please," he whispered. "Let me take care of you."

Her breath trembled.

The plea in his voice disarmed her completely.

Not a command.

A request.

A quiet, fragile request from the man who carried the world on his shoulders.

Aria nodded slowly.

"Okay," she whispered.

Luca exhaled, some of the tension melting from his posture. He pulled her into him, burying his face in her hair as if checking one more time that she was safe.

She wrapped her arms around him.

Luxurious sunlight warmed their backs as they stood together, wrapped in one another, the world outside their room held at bay by the force of his embrace.

But outside their doors, something waited.

Luca felt it.

Aria sensed it too.

Luca guided Aria back toward the bed with slow, careful movements, as if any sudden shift in the air might harm her. He kept one hand on her lower back, the other lightly holding her fingers. He walked backward, allowing her to move forward until she sat down.

He knelt in front of her, his hands sliding up her thighs until they rested just above her knees, grounding her, anchoring himself.

"You scared me," he said again, voice low and tight.

Aria smoothed her fingers through his hair. "I did not mean to."

"You do not have to mean it for it to happen."

She cupped his cheek, forcing him to lift his gaze. "Luca, I feel all right. Really."

"You felt all right before things went wrong," he said. "And you walked because you thought you were fine."

"I was careful," she insisted.

He shook his head. "Careful is not enough."

For a moment, neither spoke. The air between them felt alive with tension, thick with the weight of fear, love, and the fragile balance between them.

"You have to trust me," Aria whispered.

"I do," Luca said. "That is the problem."

She blinked. "Why is that a problem?"

"Because you trust yourself too much," he said. "You think you can push through everything. You think pain can be ignored. You think you do not break."

His voice softened. "But you do. You can."

Aria inhaled slowly. He was not angry. He was terrified.

"Come sit with me," she said gently.

He rose, still watching her carefully, and sat beside her on the bed, his posture alert, shoulders tense. She rested her head on his shoulder, her hand drifting over her stomach.

The baby shifted.

Luca placed his hand over hers immediately.

"There," Aria whispered.

He closed his eyes briefly. A tiny, almost imperceptible smile softened his face.

"She is strong," Aria murmured.

"She needs to be," he replied. "She is ours."

Aria looked up at him. "You think she is a girl now too."

He shrugged slightly. "She feels like one."

Aria smiled. The moment was tender, warm. But beneath it, she felt something else. A quiet pulse of dread. A sense that her dream, though forgotten, had not been meaningless.

Luca sensed her shift.

"What is it?" he asked.

She hesitated. "It is nothing."

He lifted her chin. "Do not hide from me."

Aria sighed, her eyes drifting toward the window where sunlight spilled gently over the floor.

"It is just the dream," she whispered. "I cannot remember it, but it left something behind."

"What kind of something?"

"A feeling. Like something is coming."

Luca’s jaw tightened. "Nothing is coming for you."

"You do not know that."

"I do," he said. "Because everything that tries to reach you must get through me first."

She touched his face. "And what if it goes around you?"

He froze.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"I mean life, Luca. Fate. Accidents. Things we cannot see." Her hand slid slowly down his cheek. "Things even you cannot stop."

He caught her wrist gently. "I do not believe in fate. I believe in control."

She met his eyes. "That is why you are terrified."

He did not deny it.

He placed her hand back on her stomach and held it there firmly. "I do not care what I have to do. I will keep both of you safe."

Aria knew he meant every word.

She leaned into him. "And you will. But you cannot stop life from happening."

He pulled her closer, almost as if shielding her with his body. "I can try."

"Do not exhaust yourself trying," she whispered. "Or you will break before I do."

He stiffened.

She stroked his knuckles. "Do not carry everything alone."

Luca closed his eyes for a moment, the weight of her words sinking into him like stones. When he opened them, something gentler flickered through the darkness.

"Then let me do this," he said. "Let me be the one who worries."

"You already are," she murmured.

He kissed her forehead, lingering there. "And I will not stop."

They sat like that for a long moment. Aria slowly relaxed, her body settling into his warmth. Luca adjusted the pillows, helping her recline gently. He stayed close, hovering at her side, one hand tracing soft, rhythmic circles on her forearm.

"You need to drink water," he said softly.

Aria smiled faintly. "Is that an order?"

"Yes."

She raised an eyebrow. "And if I say no?"

He leaned down and whispered at her ear, "Then I will convince you."

Heat rushed through her cheeks. "You are impossible."

"Correct," he said, kissing her cheek. "Drink anyway."

She accepted the glass he offered and sipped slowly. When she finished, he took it from her and set it aside, his touch lingering on her fingers longer than necessary.

Aria looked at him, studying the worry still etched in his features.

"You cannot hover forever," she said softly.

"I can until you are stable," he replied.

"Stable or stitched into the mattress?" she teased lightly.

He gave a faint, reluctant smile. "Do not tempt me."

She laughed softly, leaning into him again. "I love you," she whispered.

The words softened something in him. "I love you too."

He kissed her again, slow and deep, the kind of kiss that told her everything he could not say aloud.

A soft knock sounded at the door.

Luca stiffened instantly.

Aria gently squeezed his hand. "It is probably the doctor."

He did not relax. "Probably is not good enough."

He rose slowly, like a storm gathering force, and walked to the door with silent precision. His hand hovered near the inside of the handle, ready for anything.

He cracked it open.

Nico stood outside, posture straight, jaw tight.

Luca’s voice dropped. "What."

Nico spoke quietly enough that Aria could not hear the words.

But Luca’s expression changed.

His eyes narrowed.

His shoulders straightened.

Something cold and sharp slid into his features.

"What did you say?" Luca demanded.

Nico repeated it in a lower voice.

Aria felt her heartbeat shift.

Luca’s reaction told her enough.

Something had happened.

Something that did not belong to the safety of this room.

He shut the door slowly, turning back toward her.

Aria sat straighter, her hand instinctively protecting her stomach. "Luca? What is it?"

He walked back to her with measured steps, his face composed but his eyes burning with something fierce.

He sat beside her again, took her hand, and kissed her knuckles with slow focus.

"There is something I need to handle," he said quietly. "But I will not be far."

Her breath caught. "What happened?"

He touched her cheek. "Nothing that concerns you."

"Luca."

"It is being handled," he said softly. "I promise you. You are not to worry."

Her stomach tightened. "Tell me."

He hesitated.

A lie sat on his tongue.

Instead, he kissed her forehead.

"We will talk when I come back."

He rose to his feet.

Aria watched him, dread coiling low inside her, a whisper of her dream returning like a chill.

"Luca," she said softly. "Be careful."

He paused at the door.

He looked back at her.

His expression softened.

His voice dropped to something soft and full.

"I will always come back to you."

Then he stepped out into the hallway, closing the door gently behind him.

Aria sank back against the pillows, her pulse unsteady.

Something was coming.

She could feel it.

And whatever Nico told him...

It had already begun.