The weight of Vincenzo's illness had become something Vanessa could never fully prepare for. She had seen him fight through it before, always with a grimace or a silent determination to power through. But today, the coldness that overtook him was different. It felt sharper, more invasive, as if it had taken root in his very bones.
Vincenzo's pulse quickened, a familiar sign that the episode was starting. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end, and an overwhelming chill began to creep through his veins. His mind felt foggy, like it was drowning beneath the waves of the sickness. His breath grew shallow, and his hands—those hands that had always been so steady—began to tremble uncontrollably. He stumbled forward, his legs failing to hold him up, and he reached out for something—anything—to stop his fall.
The doorframe felt cold beneath his touch, but even that didn't steady him. The dizziness swept in too fast, and before he could muster the strength to react, his knees buckled. He collapsed to the floor with a muffled thud, barely able to catch his breath.
Vanessa's heart raced at the sight. She had never seen him like this, not in this way, not so vulnerable. He had always been the one to protect her, the one who exuded strength in every movement, every decision. But now, as his body lay trembling before her, she realized just how fragile he truly was.
"Vincenzo?" Her voice was a soft whisper, but it carried with it the weight of her fear. She moved quickly, kneeling beside him, her hands hovering helplessly at his sides, unsure how to offer comfort when his pain was beyond her reach.
His body shook violently, and he let out a strangled breath, his vision blurring. He could barely hear her voice over the ringing in his ears. The illness was too intense this time. The overwhelming coldness spread through his veins like ice, his entire body going rigid. The sensation was terrifying, and though he fought it with every ounce of strength he had left, his body was no longer responding the way it should.
"Vincenzo, please…" Vanessa's voice broke, a faint tremor of desperation lingering in each word. Her hand found its way to his cheek, brushing against the coldness of his skin. Her touch, though gentle, seemed to ignite something in him—a small spark of life amidst the overwhelming cold.
She didn't pull back. She pressed on, determined not to let him slip away. She leaned forward, pressing her forehead against his, her lips brushing against his cold skin. The warmth of her touch was the only warmth he felt in that moment, and as she kissed his forehead, something shifted. It wasn't a magical fix, but it was enough to momentarily break the hold of the illness.
Vincenzo's body slowly relaxed, the trembling subsiding. His eyes fluttered open, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he looked at her—really looked at her. His gaze was unfocused, clouded by the illness, but there was something in it—an understanding, a deep connection—that spoke louder than any words could.
Vanessa's hands were trembling as she helped him sit up, supporting his weight with all the strength she had. Her own hands were slick with sweat, but her grip on him remained firm. "I'm not leaving you, Vincenzo," she whispered, her voice steady now, filled with the kind of resolve she had never known she was capable of. "We'll get through this. Together."
Vincenzo's lips parted in a faint, tired smile, though it didn't reach his eyes. "I'm sorry. I never wanted you to see me like this."
She shook her head, her eyes fierce. "Stop. Don't apologize for something that isn't your fault. We're in this together. You don't have to fight this alone."
His heart swelled at her words. He had always been the protector, the one who stood strong, but in this moment, it was Vanessa who was holding them both together. His grip on her hand tightened, seeking the strength he so desperately needed.
But just as the tension seemed to ease, another wave of sickness gripped Vanessa. The faint nausea she had been feeling for days surged forward, a sharp pain slicing through her stomach. Her head spun, and she staggered back, her vision blurring.
"Vanessa?" Vincenzo's voice was a mix of concern and panic as he reached for her. "What's wrong?"
Before she could answer, the sickness overcame her. She doubled over and vomited, her body shaking violently as the wave of nausea ripped through her. The pain left her weak, her legs unsteady as she sank to the floor, gasping for breath.
Vincenzo caught her just in time, pulling her against him, his panic rising. "Vanessa, please," he whispered, his voice tight with worry. "Don't do this. Don't scare me."
Tears welled up in her eyes, her shoulders shaking as she tried to control the sobs that escaped her lips. "I'm sorry," she murmured, her voice barely a whisper. "I didn't mean to… I can't even take care of myself, Vincenzo. How am I supposed to take care of our child?"
Her words hit him like a blow to the chest. She was scared. Scared of being weak, scared of failing, scared of what the future held. But Vincenzo wasn't about to let her doubt herself—not when he knew how strong she truly was.
He lifted her chin gently, forcing her to meet his gaze. "You're stronger than you think. And you're not alone in this. I'm right here with you, every step of the way."
A small, fragile smile tugged at the corner of her lips, a mixture of gratitude and relief in her eyes. It wasn't much, but it was enough to give him hope.
Then, as if fate was determined to test them, Vanessa let out a gasp, her eyes widening with shock. She reached down to her abdomen, her breath catching in her throat as she felt the warmth spreading beneath her fingers. She pulled her hand away, her face pale. Blood.
"Vincenzo…" She choked out, her voice trembling with fear. "I'm bleeding."
The words hit Vincenzo like a thunderclap. His pulse hammered in his ears, the blood draining from his face as panic gripped him. His mind raced, trying to process what was happening, but the coldness was creeping back over him. He couldn't faint. Not now. Not when Vanessa needed him.
"Vanessa," he said, his voice tight, desperate. "We need to get to the hospital. Now."
But as he tried to help her stand, his legs shook beneath him. His body was fighting him again, the illness beginning to take hold once more. His vision blurred, and his stomach churned. His head felt heavy, as if it might collapse at any moment. He gritted his teeth, refusing to let go of her.
He lifted her carefully, his arms trembling under the weight of both her and his illness. "Stay with me, Vanessa," he urged, though the words were barely a whisper.
She nodded weakly, clutching onto him, but he could see the fear in her eyes. It mirrored his own.
Vincenzo stumbled, forcing one foot in front of the other, pushing through the pain. "We're almost there," he muttered, even though he wasn't sure how much further he could go. His hands were slick with sweat, and his heart pounded in his chest, threatening to give out. But he couldn't stop. Not now.
He reached the door, barely able to hold himself upright as he stepped outside. His head swam, but he couldn't afford to faint. Not when she was bleeding. Not when he was all she had.
"Stay with me, just a little longer..." Vincenzo's voice cracked, his grip on her tightening as he forced his body to move.
With every step, it felt as though he was fighting against his own body, his strength faltering with each passing second. But there was no turning back. They were in this together