Barred Desires (The Deepest Desires 1)

Branson

Fucking hell.

I’m torn right now—stay with my mom or go to Luca. They both need me, and I need them both.

Looking down at my mom, who’s still crying, I can’t leave her like this, I just can’t. Pulling her into a hug, she wraps her arms around me and cries. “Shh, mom, it’s going to be okay. He’ll make it through this. You know he’s a fighter.”

She sniffles and wipes her eyes, peering up at me. “I know, honey. Thank you for saying that and for trying to make me feel better. He is a fighter, and he’s strong. It’s just worrisome, but I know you’re right.” She gives me a smile that doesn’t quite meet her eyes, but at least she’s stopped crying.

“I’m worried about Luca, though,” she says. “This has to be especially hard on him, considering what he went through with his mom.”

“Yeah, me too.”

“Sweetie, you should go to him. He needs you.”

My eyes dart to meet hers. What does she mean, he needs me?

She smiles once more. “Go. We can talk about it later. Go and be there for him, I’ll be okay.”

Without wasting any more time dissecting her statement, I go to find Luca. She’s right, he does need me.

Except, I have no clue where he’s at.

Pulling out my phone, I call him, hoping he’ll answer.

Ring, ring.

Ring, ring.

Come on, Luca… babe.

Ring, ring.

Finally, the phone picks up. “Hi.”

“Luca, where are you, babe?”

“Outside, in front of the hospital.”

“I’ll be right there, okay? Will you wait for me?”

“Yeah, okay.”

Hanging up, I take the elevator down to the main floor and rush out the front doors. He’s sitting on the bench right outside the entrance, looking lost and dejected.

Fuck, I want to help him.

Without saying anything, I sit down right beside him and take his hand in mine. He rests his head on my shoulder, letting out a heavy sigh, wrapping his other hand around our adjoined ones.

After a few silent moments, he finally speaks. “What if he dies?”

“He’s not going to.”

“You don’t know that, Branson.”

“No, I don’t, but neither do you. You can’t think the worst. You’re going to worry yourself sick.”

“It’s hard not to, and I know you get that.”

“I do. He’ll be okay, he’ll pull through. When has he ever let anything take him down?”

With tear-soaked eyes, he looks up at me, and it breaks my heart. He’s right, I don’t know what’s going to happen and there is a very real possibility he may not pull through, but I can’t let him think about that.

“C’mere,” I say, grabbing him by the nape and kissing the top of his head.

Wrapping his arms around me, he squeezes before saying, “I love you, Branson. I really do.”

“I know, baby. And I love you.”