No Going Back

5.

I've been severely sick for the past two days, I couldn't even move and I only regain some bits of strength and I knew I had to do this. The chapter might not be counted in the story since I already have a limit and the story might need to go up to 25 chapters.

It's my Birthday, but also the day my grandmother passed away right in my arms, seven years ago. I've never been a fan of birthdays anyway, but encountering this day every year is difficult. She was the best part of my life and she took a whole lot of positivity and amazingness from my life with her.

This chapter is dedicated to my grandmother and all the amazing Grandmothers out there. They all make our lives exceptionally beautiful!
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Floria

After shedding my final tears for my cheating husband, the doctors gave me a clean bill of health and cleared me to eat again. Before I fell into a sleeping coma, I requested to see my daughter, without him. Fortunately, he was gone, having practically sprinted out, a nurse informed me, after meeting our daughter.

I had no energy left to invest in him at this point, to know about his whereabouts and what he was up to, so I reserved what little I had for our daughter, before sleep claimed me again. With every question his crude honesty was digging the grave of my heart inside my own chest, but I knew it was yet to be dead and I wouldn't allow that.

I positioned my IV stand beside me and gently placed my hand on the glass enclosing my fragile daughter, surrounded by machines that sustained her every breath. Overwhelmed, I couldn't shake the feeling that I'd failed her - wondering if I should've been stronger physically, so she wouldn't have to endure this and spared her this struggles no one should face this early in the world.

My eyes watered, but I knew I couldn't cry anymore. This was my last reserve of energy before sleep reclaimed me. I bit back a sob and wiped away the lone tear, forcing a wide smile. I vowed to shield my daughter from sadness and negativity. Around my daughter, there would only be love and strength - no room for sadness or negativity.

I vowed to raise my daughter with unwavering love, patience, and humanity. And as for Antonio, he would only be welcomed into her life if he kept his darkness at bay, never infecting her with his toxicity or causing her harm or corrupt her.

A shudder ran through my body, and my eyes dropped. The fluids flowing into me tingled and stung. I closed my eyes, but a memory flashed, unbidden. I quickly pushed it aside, yet the remembrance lingered.

Before all this, his betrayal and my blindness, we had chosen six names for both boys and girls, eager to keep our baby's gender a surprise. Antonio had even hired to paint the nursery a soothing beige, determined to teach our child that pink wasn't exclusively for girls, nor blue solely for boys, the outdated stereotypes.

"Miss, your grandma is here to visit," the unfamiliar nurse said. I turned, my throat constricting with emotion, and cleared it before managing a word.

"Could you please send her in for a few minutes? I'd love to take a photo of all four generations together," I requested, a sudden spark of inspiration striking me. I had seen a beautiful image on Instagram and wanted to recreate it with my own family. "She can also spend some time with her great-granddaughter, just a few minutes?"

"Sure," she said with a warm smile, "but you need to get back to bed soon, okay? It's been an hour, and you're advised to rest." Her gentle pat on my hand accompanied her reassuring words, her smile genuine.

I nodded, and she exited the NICU, returning with my grandmother, who looked remarkably youthful in her early seventies. I fought the urge to laugh at my own disheveled appearance - likely resembling a homeless person, and she, a vibrant, white-haired beauty.