*Olivia*
I stared blankly at the kitchen wall, rotating my wrist constantly as I stirred the frying pan I’d placed on the stove. I didn’t even rember what I had thrown in there, much less whether it was done or not.
Dazed, I was on the verge of dissociating as I waited for the food to cook. Half my mind knew that Maria always made breakfast, and the other half was certain I had to do this myself. In the middle were a bunch of thoughts my exhausted mind couldn’t even piece together.
The sunshine pouring through the window was mocking , warning how late it had gotten in the day. Elio was hungry, I was sure of it. I blinked, slowly, like I was trying to swim through molasses. Everything around was running at different speeds, faster and slower than I’d like.
I swayed back and forth, humming one of the catchy tunes from Elio’s toy. I didn’t know why but it kept playing on repeat in my head, singing over and over like one of those repetitive tunes on the radio.
I blinked to keep myself awake, struggling to keep my balance as I swayed dangerously into the stove. Luckily, the heat wasn’t that hot and I didn’t feel even the slightest bit of warmth.
“Uh, Olive?”
I jolted, dropping the utensil in my hand. It rattled along the pan and I spat out, “Fiddlesticks,” as I stared at the wooden spoon in disappointnt. What was I going to stir breakfast with now?
“You made drop my spoon,” I pouted, glancing over my shoulder at Dahlia. “How am I going to finish breakfast?”
“Are you okay?” Dahlia asked, concerned, approaching and leaning over my shoulder. She stared down at the pan of breakfast with an odd look on her face and then glanced at , worriedly. “Did you even sleep?”
“Can’t rember. Why?” I yawned, reaching for the spoon. My palm hit sothing soft, cold, and gooey and I grimaced, glancing down to see what it was.
Oh, I’d put my hand on the frying pan.
“You’re trying to cook an unbroken egg... and is that one of Elio’s sli toys?” Dahlia raised an eyebrow, giving a weird look. “Plus, the stove’s not even on, Olive.”
“Oh,” I said, glancing down at the supposed breakfast.
Sure enough, inside of the frying pan was an unbroken egg just sitting there and gooey green sli covering my hand. With my palm side to the bottom of the pan, if it had been on, I’d be suffering from third-degree burns.
“Sit down before you hurt yourself,” Dahlia sighed, shaking her head.
She grabbed the frying pan, plucking my hand out and pulling it from the stove. She put the egg back into the fridge and threw away the sli.
“But Elio’s hungry,” I said, watching her dazedly. “I’ve got to make breakfast for him. He’s probably crying right now–”
Before Dahlia could catch , I raced out of the kitchen and to my suite. I humd softly that stupid song, hearing it echo down the hallway as I approached Elio’s room. I opened up the door, smiling brightly as I approached his crib.
“Elio,” I called out in a sing-song voice, glancing down at the crib.
My smile fell.
It was still empty.
“Olive,” I heard Dahlia call gently from behind . “You know he’s not there.”
I did know.
But I kept forgetting. Or maybe I just wanted to forget, hoping that every ti I ca back to check, he’d magically be there, back where I could hold him and keep him safe... back when he’d play with his toy that had the song that drove nuts.
God, I would give anything to hear his little laugh again, to hear him giggling at what sound the cow or cat made. ‘ow,’ he’d say, waddling around on his little legs, pointing at every little thing as he cried it over and over again.
Suddenly that song in my head was unbearable, and I stared emptily down at my son’s crib, wanting nothing more than to burn it into pieces, to destroy every part of it until I didn’t have to look at it anymore.
Until it wasn’t empty.
“Co on, Olive.” Dahlia wrapped an arm around my shoulders, pulling away from the crib.
I kept my head down, leaning my weight on Dahlia as she directed out of the room. By the ti my consciousness ca back from wherever it had gone, Dahlia was already sitting on the couch in the living room.
“Dolly,” I whimpered, glancing at my best friend as she took the seat beside , making sure to keep close unless I took off to Elio’s room and actually made good on my threats.
But I needed the crib intact, for when Elio ca back.
“Anyone know why there’s a frying pan coated in sli on the counter?” I heard a distant shout from the kitchen. “Dahlia?”
Dahlia rolled her eyes as Giovani appeared in the doorway with a perplexed look on his face.
“Don’t bla . It was your wife,” she said, sassily, crossing her arms.
Being unfairly accused of such nonsense would probably do that to anyone normal, but right now, I was too completely out of it to be normal.
“Elio’s hungry,” I whimpered, glancing at my husband with wide, sad eyes.
He softened, letting the hurt and fear in his eyes show for a mont as he approached .
“I know, carina,” he told softly. “But we’ll get him back today. I’m going to go out with Gabriele to trail Lorenz if we can. And once we confirm that he’s not in the building, Salvatore will lead Tallon and Alessandro to Elio. He’ll be back before you know it, and then you can feed him sothing more nutritious than sli, okay?”
“Okay,” I muttered, softly.
He leaned over to press a kiss on the top of my head. “I’ll call you as soon as they find him or if sothing unexpected happens.”
I nodded. All I could do at this point as I watched Gio get to his feet to leave. He turned back at the last mont, giving a worried look and I saw the tip of his fingers twitch like he wanted to reach out and never let go.
But his duty won out and he vanished down the hallway. Soon enough, I heard the door slam shut, leaving all alone in the living room.
Ti passed by slowly. Dahlia tried her best to cheer up in whatever way she could, taking my mind off the situation with her bad soap operas, even showing random videos she found on the internet with the hope that it might make laugh, but nothing worked.
She tried to get to eat, even getting Maria on my case, but neither of them pushed the issue when I refused. I didn’t an to be difficult. I just couldn’t stomach anything at the mont.
It felt like my whole body was a ball of rubber bands, and each layer was another horrible feeling laced on top of one another–terror of what would beco of my family, grief over the betrayal of soone I thought I could trust, despair over what we’ve already gone through and what Elio could possibly be going through now, and guilt over losing my son under my own watch.
The deeper I went, the worse it got.
Curled up on the couch, we waited for any sign of news until finally, my phone began to ring. I was the first to react, hitting my knee across the coffee table as I lunged for it.
“Hello?” I answered anxiously. “Gio?”
“It’s ,” Gio said, sounding winded. There was a grim note to his tone like he had bad news to deliver.
My heart sank.
“Where’s Elio? Is he hurt? Where are you? What’s going on?” The questions flew out of my mouth at a rapid speed.
“I’m fine and Elio’s fine.” Gio cut through my rambling, straight to the point as always. “We got him, Olivia. He’s here with and he’s unhard. We’re both safe, carina.”
I could hear the sound of babbling, sobs, and teary sniffles that I could recognize as easily as my own heartbeat–Elio.
“Oh thank god.” I collapsed onto the floor on my knees, my heart beating a thousand tis per minute as the sheer relief filled like an overinflated balloon. Tears burst down my face and despite hearing that they were safe, all I wanted was my son back ho with and in my arms.
“Olivia.” Gio hesitated, and I heard the sound of whispering coming through, probably Tallon or Alessandro. My husband sighed, and I knew sothing had gone wrong.
“What happened? Who’s hurt?” I demanded, trying to remain strong despite the overwhelming stress building up deep in my bones. I felt like I’d aged ten years in just these past two days.
“It’s your father,” Gio told bluntly, with an apologetic tone. “He was shot, and there wasn’t enough ti and everything happened so fast. I had to get Elio out of there. We had to leave him there.”
I opened my lips to reply but nothing ca out.
I didn’t know how to feel. Should I be sad? Worried? Angry? I wasn’t any of those things at the mont. Perhaps, it just hadn’t sunk in yet, or maybe, my heart had been too burned to care. Maybe I was cruel. But then, hadn’t my father hurt first? Wasn’t he just getting what he deserved? My head ached thinking about it so I didn’t.
But I needed to focus on my baby.
“I’m on my way now. We’re almost there,” Gio said. “I love you.”
“I love you too,” I murmured distantly, and the call ended.
“What happened?” Dahlia asked worriedly, seeing the tense look on my face.
“Elio’s fine. He’s safe and they got him out, but my father... Salvatore, he got hurt and they had to leave him behind,” I said so distantly that even I could hear the disconnect in my voice. “They’re almost here.”
“Olive... I’m so sorry.” Dahlia reached for , intending to comfort , but I shrugged it off.
“I’m not,” I told her bluntly, then headed for the front door. All I wanted was my family–my husband and my son. Everything else could be dealt with later.
My heart raced as I heard the lock turning and finally, I spotted a ss of curly hair tucked within the arms of Gio. He gave a tired smile and silent tears ran down my face.
“He’s still a little out of it. They drugged him,” Gio warned but I didn’t care.
I ran to them, imdiately pulling my baby from Gio’s arms and into mine.
“Elio!” I cried, and his little head lifted up as I clutched him tightly to my chest.
I sobbed his na over and over, grabbing every part of his body I could feasibly reach, checking for any kind of wounds.
His clothes were dirty and dusty, his face smudged with so kind of dark substance, and he looked just as dazed as I had been earlier, but he was safe. He was okay and he was here.
In my arms.
I kissed his face over and over, relishing having him with once more. “I’ll never leave you alone again, ever,” I promised him, repeating it over and over.
“Mama?” His voice was weak, blinking softly like he was half-asleep, but the mont I smiled tearfully at him, he let out the loudest wail I had ever heard from him. He scread “Mama!” and buried himself in my arms until he was just a mop of curls.
I cried with him.
Gio enfolded us into his arms, all three of us absolutely tired. Dahlia took the mont to ruffle his hair, speaking to him softly, but Elio refused to look at anyone, just clutched onto like I was the only thing in the world.
His whole body trembled as he stubbornly pressed his face into the crook of my neck. I was quite the sa. Dahlia understood, softly telling him she’d see him in the morning before Gio directed us back to our suite.
We bypassed Elio’s room, not even considering the thought as we headed straight into our room. Exhausted, I sat on the bed as Gio shut the door, locking it tightly like he never had before. Even the curtains were pulled over the window after making sure they were firmly locked.
It was only once the three of us were securely inside our room that I finally began to relax. It took so difficulty and a lot of convincing, but we managed to get Elio to let go of my neck long enough to get him a bath.
I washed him up, horrified to discover a few bruises on his legs and arms.
They weren’t anything major but enough to send my anger returning. When at least all three of us were clean and in new clothes, we all collapsed into the bed, Elio tucked safely between us.
He refused to let go of , strands of my hair in one hand and my shirt clutched into the other, but finally, he began to fall asleep.
Finally, all three of us were together.
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