CAPO

38. The Letter

Death was a subject Arabella almost always refused to think about.

Whether it be the death of her mother or father or her two best friends or even her cats, Arabella refused to think about it. Ever since she was little, she told herself that when people died, they didn't truly die. They just left. They left for work and they were working late that night. And for every single night after that.

She was scared of her loved ones dying, like anybody else. But with Arabella, it was almost a phobia to think of death. It made her skin crawl, made her blood run cold, it made her feel physically ill.

She was the type of person to scroll past news of a celebrity's death on her Instagram timeline. She was the type of person that when she heard about someone dying that she knew about, she'd change the topic immediately.

But when Marcus left for work and didn't come back, Arabella didn't care as much. That might sound awful, but Arabella didn't love him. She never loved him, she loved the attention and the way she felt when she told someone she had a boyfriend.

She hadn't loved someone as much as she loved Giovanni. Not her mother, not her father and not her best friends. She despised herself for not telling Giovanni that she loved him, but the three words almost felt awkward to her then. She had only said it to her parents and friends, never to Marcus.

She told Giovanni in her head everytime she spoke to him, everytime she saw him. She said it in hopes that he'd see it through her eyes and she thought that maybe he had seen it once, but she couldn't know for sure.

"I love you," She said.

"I love you, I love you, I love you, so much,"

Not a word was said back to her.

She pushed his hair back, her hands cupping his cheeks. Her tears fell onto his forehead, "I love you, my love. I love you,"

Silence.

She put her forehead on his, her voice breaking, "Please say it back, please Giovanni,"

"I need you to say it back, please,"

His lips didn't move. His voice couldn't be heard. His eyes didn't open. His smile didn't bloom on his lips.

"Please," She cried, "I miss you, so much,"

"You're breaking my fucking heart," She whispered, her eyes looking for his. She couldn't stand to not see his eyes. She needed to see his eyes so he could look at her and see how he was making her cry.

He needed to wake up so he could explain why he lied to her. He needed to wake up so she could tell him that she loved him.

It was nine days, fifteen minutes and twenty three seconds after the ambush. Nine days. Nine days without Giovanni. Nine days without her lover. Nine days without second hand smoke filling her lungs, nine days without his voice, nine days without him.

It was so cold in his hospital room. Arabella had brought a blanket from her place to his and she sat huddled up in it, silently staring out of the window next to his bed until night fell, and then she fell asleep, woke up the next morning to every limb of her aching, but she didn't leave. Once.

She showered at the hospital, ate the hospital food, practically lived in the hospital. Enzo had tried getting her out with persuasion, but it was futile. Then he called Rafael in and he physically carried Arabella out, but she made her way back five minutes later, coffee as a offering.

His mother and sister visited him twice a day and that's the only time Arabella went out of his room.

It was completely unfair how Giovanni still looked so good in his state. His hair was curlier and fell over his forehead, the exact opposite of how they usually looked. His eyes were shut tightly, and his chest moved so slowly that Arabella stared at him for hours to make sure he was actually still breathing.

Arabella had to go back to her apartment to get a new pair of sweatpants and a hoodie. Rafael took her, and when the girl saw Giovanni's bloody, white shirt in her trash, she quickly looked away, moving too fast for her brain to make her remember him.

She saw the large notebook on her kitchen island, and then she remembered about his letter. The letter he had written her on their first day of being around each other. The first thing she had gotten from him.

She opened it, taken the pen from next to it and then she put her pen to the paper, and she wrote. She wrote until her hand cramped, and then she crumbled it up and threw it in the trash, starting over.

She continued until she was halfway through the notebook. Her trash was completely full, crumbled papers spilling out of the top. Her cheeks were painted in wetness and so was her counter and hands and her chest ached with every breath she took.

She didn't know how long she was writing and as she finished the letter, she sprinted downstairs and still saw Rafael waiting for her, patient as ever.

"Can you give this to him if he wakes up?" She said after apologising, holding the folded letter out to him.

Rafael nodded, "You're not coming back?" He asked.

Arabella shook her head, "I can't go back for a while, it-it hurts a lot, you know? I can't hurt anymore,"

Understanding, Rafael nodded, started the car and took her letter with him. She hoped he would remember to give it to Giovanni if he ever woke up, and if he didn't, she hoped he would be buried with it, as well as with her heart.