14 months after Julianna's disappearance a text asking for help and her name showed up on Andrea's phone.
But is it her?
What happened in those 14 months?
Was she pregnant?
If so, did she have the baby?
Does she still think about him? About Niccolo...
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With Niccolo's arms around me I fell asleep and this time my sleep was filled with the image of his words, I dreamed with what he imagined our life would be like.
The morning sun came and when I woke up Niccolo was still holding me close, his arms make me feel safe, make me feel at home.
He was already awake looking down at me and I could already see the desk filled with breakfast over his shoulder.
"Morning." I heard him say.
"Good morning."
"How are you feeling?"
"Ask me that when you see your daughter in my arms." I said softly, I honestly don't know what I'm feeling.
I'm sad because my daughter isn't here, I'm relieved because Marcello is dead, I'm happy to be with Niccolo but I feel guilty because I'm happy while I don't know where she is.
"Breakfast?"
"I need a shower." I said. I can see that someone cleaned me, probably while I was in surgery or after but I need to scrub that place out of me, sometimes I think that I can still smell his cologne on me, or feel his fingers touching my skin.
I feel disgusting.
"I will get some clothes for you, do you need help? Do you want me or my mom?"
"No, no. I-i don't want anyone."
"I don't think-" He started to say but I stopped him.
"I promise that if I need help I will scream." I said.
"Alright." He said and sighed.
I push the covers back and sat on the edge of the bed, now I just need to find some strength in me to get up and support my weight. You can do this, it's 10 steps to the bathroom, 10 steps. With a deep breath, I started standing up.
At first, the room started spinning so I closed my eyes and tried to relax, I could feel his gaze on me and even though it was intense it was more a motivation to show him that I could do it.
With that thought in mind, I started moving my feet, one in front of the other I took the 10 steps to the bathroom and slowly closed the door behind me.
I leaned my back against the door and took a deep breath, after a few seconds I let myself feel the pain in my body, and fuck it hurt all over the place, I walked further into it and stood in front of the mirror.
I can't remember the last time I looked at myself in the mirror, maybe that day when I had the accident? My hair is longer, it's greasy, and looks unhealthy, just like the rest of me. My skin is pale, almost white, I can see my bones, and when I let the light blue hospital gown fall to the floor on my feet I wanted to cry.
My skin is full of scars and bruises, some so dark that I can't see my tattoos, some stretch marks on my stomach, breasts, and hips but I don't mind them, but the worst is my c-section scar, this scar should be between 4 to 8 inches long but mine is much bigger.
