Alternative History - Chapter 8 - Hospital, part 2

 

In the Previous Chapter:

Rosa, Lucia's mother, was rushed to the hospital after suffering a stroke. At first, the doctors were unable to determine the full extent of her condition and ordered further tests. Terrified, Lucia called Tavo, who arrived immediately and stayed by her side throughout the ordeal. He did everything he could to comfort her, made sure she ate something, and eventually let her exhausted body find rest against his shoulder. That evening, Lucia asked him to go home, but Tavo made her promise to call him at any hour if her mother's condition worsened.

The following day, Tavo returned to the hospital and promised Lucia that she wouldn't be alone. His growing concern for her did not go unnoticed by Kuka, who later confronted him at work about the excessive attention he was giving both Lucia and Rosa. Tavo explained his behavior in professional terms, insisting that looking after their models was part of their responsibility. At the hospital, Lucia learned that Rosa's condition had improved, but the doctor ultimately decided that she had to remain in intensive care. Tavo drove an exhausted Lucia home, and she fell asleep in the car.

The next day, Tavo once again helped Lucia and drove her home. There, Emanuel showed them the commercial Lucia had filmed at Iguazú Falls. Just as they began watching it, Kuka unexpectedly arrived. Seeing Tavo and Lucia together, she began to feel jealous, though she did her best to conceal her feelings.

Alternative History - Chapter 8 - Hospital, part 2

Breakfast with Kuka

The following morning, Lucia came down to the kitchen early, while the apartment was only just beginning to wake.

The light was still soft, pale with morning, spilling across the countertops and the cups left out the night before. The smell of coffee hung in the air.

Kuka stood by the coffee machine, leaning one hip lightly against the cabinet, only half focused on what she was doing. When she heard footsteps, she turned without hurrying.

"Coffee?" she asked simply, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

Lucia hesitated for a moment, then nodded.

"Yes... thank you."

Kuka poured two cups and handed one to her at once, as though she didn't want to leave room for Lucia to sit alone with her thoughts. They sat down across from each other, surrounded by a silence that wasn't awkward—just quiet, gentle, and unhurried, like the morning itself.

"How's your mother?" Kuka finally asked, her voice softer now. There was caution in the question, but also genuine concern.

Lucia gazed into her cup for a moment, as though searching for an answer she was finding difficult to put into words.

"Stable," she said at last. "The doctors say that's a good sign, but..." She paused. "It's still hard."

Kuka nodded, letting her speak without interruption. Lucia drew a quiet breath and remained silent for a moment before adding, almost as though she were surprised to hear herself say it:

"You know... it's silly, but I always thought she would just... be there. Always. Like something that never changed."

A faint smile touched her lips, directed more at herself than at Kuka.

"And now, all of a sudden, I realize that even things like that aren't certain."

Kuka watched her attentively, without judgment. For a moment, she turned her cup slowly between her hands, as though gathering the right words.

"That's not silly," she said calmly at last. "I think everyone feels that way. We assume certain things will always be there, that they'll never change. Until life reminds us that not everything is within our control."

Lucia raised her eyes to meet hers. Kuka offered a small smile—not an attempt to force comfort upon her, but a quiet way of being present, of letting her know she didn't have to face those feelings alone.

"But that doesn't mean you're on your own," she added softly.

And for a little while, they simply sat together over their coffee, bathed in the morning light, with no need to ask anything more of each other.

A crisis and a call to Dr. Monara

That same morning, a few hours later, Lucia was back at the hospital.

She looked better than she had the day before. She was still tired, with faint shadows beneath her eyes, but the desperate tension that had made it almost impossible for her to breathe over the past twenty-four hours had finally begun to ease. A few hours of sleep and a quieter evening had helped. She hadn't found her peace of mind yet, but at least she could think about something other than the worst-case scenario for a little while.

She sat beside Tavo in the hospital corridor, her hands clasped in her lap. Every now and then, their shoulders brushed lightly as one of them shifted in their chair. Neither of them paid any attention to it anymore.

Lucia glanced sideways at him.

"Thank you for coming with me. You should be at work."

Tavo turned toward her. For a moment, he studied her carefully, as though he wanted to make sure she really was feeling calmer.

"Lucia, I'm doing exactly what I should be doing."

There wasn't the slightest hint of hesitation in his voice.

"And I should be here with you. It's the only thing I can do."

Lucia looked at him for a moment, then smiled faintly. It was a small, tired smile, but it was genuine. Tavo returned it. For a brief moment, they could pretend everything was all right.

Then Lucia noticed the doctor coming out of the ward.

"Oh, there's the doctor. He'll tell us how Mom is."

She stood up almost immediately. Tavo rose with her.

Only moments earlier, there had been a cautious glimmer of hope in Lucia's eyes. Now, one look at the doctor's face was enough to make her feel as though something inside her had gone still.

The man stopped in front of them.

"Yes, I have some news for you, but unfortunately, it isn't very good. Her condition has taken a turn for the worse. I'm very sorry."

Lucia stared at him without a word. The meaning of his words reached her slowly, as though each one had to break through a wall of disbelief.

A turn for the worse.

Not very good.

I'm very sorry.

"Is she worse?" she finally asked.

The doctor nodded.

"Yes."

Lucia suddenly felt as though the air around her had grown heavier.

"And there's nothing you can do?"

"I assure you, we're doing everything we can."

Tavo stood right beside her. His expression had grown grave, and his jaw was tightly clenched. He placed a hand on Lucia's shoulder, gently at first, as though simply wanting her to know he was there. Then he moved his fingers reassuringly along her shoulder.

"What does that mean?" Lucia whispered.

The doctor remained silent for a moment.

"All we can do now is wait."

Lucia shook her head.

"No."

Her voice broke on that single word. Tears welled in her eyes, though they hadn't yet begun to fall.

Tavo felt his hand tighten on her shoulder. He watched the doctor with an intensity he made no attempt to conceal.

"I'm very sorry," the doctor repeated. "We have to be patient. It's the only thing we can do right now. If there's any new information, I'll let you know immediately."

Lucia didn't answer. The doctor nodded to them and walked away.

For several seconds, she stood motionless. Then she turned to Tavo. There was so much despair in her eyes that he felt his throat tighten. He said nothing. He simply turned her gently toward him.

"No, Tavo... no..."

Lucia no longer tried to hide her tears. Tavo raised a hand to her hair and slowly ran his fingers through it, his touch gentle and soothing, as though the simple gesture might somehow hold together everything that was falling apart around them. He bent his head and kissed her forehead.

"Calm down, Lucia."

She turned her face away, her voice filled with a desperate helplessness.

"What am I supposed to do? Just sit here and wait? My mother is dying in there!"

Tavo looked at her in silence for a moment. He knew there was no good answer he could give her. He couldn't promise that Rosa would recover. He couldn't tell her the doctors were wrong. And he couldn't take away the fear that had just come crashing back with twice the force.

But there was something else he could do.

He slowly stepped back and reached for his phone.

"No. I'm going to speak to Dr. Monara."

Lucia wrapped her arms around herself, trying to regain even the smallest measure of control over her trembling body.

"Who's that?"

"A highly respected neurologist."

Tavo was already dialing the number.

Lucia watched him for a moment. Only seconds earlier, his arm had been the one thing keeping her on her feet. Now she saw him spring into action, his expression growing focused, his voice taking on that calm, decisive tone she knew so well from the agency.

"Hi, Sabrina. Could you find Dr. Monara's number in my address book, please?"

He turned slightly away to hear her better. Lucia remained beside him, her arms wrapped around herself as she tried to steady her breathing.

Tavo finished the first part of the call and looked at her.

"I'm going to step out for a moment..."

He gestured toward the ward doors. Lucia watched him for a moment, then nodded.

"Go. I'll wait here."

Tavo hesitated for another second. He didn't want to leave her, not even for a moment. There was something in his eyes that Lucia no longer needed to interpret. His concern for her had become so obvious that it no longer required explanation.

"I'll be right back."

He headed toward the exit, and Lucia followed him with her eyes. When the doors closed behind him, she was alone again.

She slowly sank into a chair and covered her mouth with one hand, trying to stifle another sob. For a little while, she kept staring at the place where Tavo had disappeared, as though his presence might still protect her from whatever was happening behind the ward doors.

Then she closed her eyes.

"Mom..." she whispered. "Please don't leave me. I'm begging you, don't leave me."

Lucia does not want to be rescued

Late that afternoon, Tavo arrived at the hospital while Dr. Monara's consultation was already underway. He had taken care of everything beforehand—a phone call, a few brief conversations, decisions made quickly and without involving Lucia in the details that would only have added to her anxiety.

Lucia sat tensely in the corridor, exactly where he had left her earlier. When she saw Tavo, she didn't get up right away. She simply lifted her head, as though his arrival alone were an answer to a question she hadn't yet found the courage to ask.

"Well?" he asked calmly, stopping beside her.

Lucia swallowed.

"Monara is talking to them now. They're inside."

Tavo nodded, as though he'd heard precisely what he had expected. He asked no further questions and made no attempt to hurry things along when there was nothing either of them could do to influence the outcome. He simply sat down beside her, naturally, without hesitation, knowing that this was where he belonged.

He took her hands in his, gently stopping her from twisting her fingers together.

"Lucia, try to relax. Don't worry so much. Everything will be all right."

Only moments earlier, she'd been sitting rigidly, listening for every sound coming from behind the doors. Now, with him beside her, something inside her began to loosen. He hadn't solved the problem. He couldn't promise her that everything would turn out well. But he was there.

And that was what she needed most right now.

A few minutes later, Lucia spoke again, a little hesitantly.

"Tavo, I've been thinking..."

"Yes?"

He didn't turn to look at her immediately. He let her find her own pace, knowing that any attempt to hurry her would only make her more anxious.

"That doctor... You said he's a specialist, right?"

Only then did Tavo turn toward her. There was something in her voice that made him realize this wasn't just an ordinary question. Lucia was clearly struggling to bring herself to ask it.

"Yes. He's one of the best in his field. He'd been recommended to me before."

She hesitated and unconsciously bit her lip.

"How much does he charge? How much is all of this going to cost?"

Only then did Tavo look at her directly, as though checking whether he'd really heard her correctly.

"What?"

"Monara. The consultation. Everything."

She looked away. Her fingers tightened around the empty coffee cup, as though she were trying to hold on to something more than just a piece of plastic.

"I know it's a stupid question, but... I need to know."

For a moment, Tavo said nothing. His expression softened as he suddenly understood that this had nothing to do with simple curiosity. It was genuine worry about yet another problem, coupled with her instinctive need to maintain some control over a situation in which almost everything had been taken out of her hands.

There was something so familiar about that need, and yet it was such an unnecessary burden for her to carry, that he immediately tried to ease it.

"Lu, don't worry about that."

"I have to," she replied at once. "She's my mother."

Tavo watched her for a moment, searching for a way to respond that wouldn't sound like yet another attempt to take things out of her hands. He already knew that the harder he pushed, the more fiercely Lucia would defend herself. He had to find another way—one that would let her accept his help without feeling she owed him something in return.

"When you become a famous model, I'll get to share in that success too, won't I?"

Lucia looked up at him, completely thrown by the sudden change of subject. Still worried, she nodded.

"Well, yes. Absolutely."

But before her anxiety could take hold again, he continued with a calmness that made his words sound less like a decision and more like the most obvious thing in the world.

"You see, your problems are my problems now, too. Simple as that, right?"

Her reaction was immediate. She frowned so sharply that, for a fraction of a second, Tavo genuinely had to fight back a smile. It was as though he'd just said something utterly outrageous.

"No. No."

"Why not?"

He said it lightly, without pressing her, as though they were discussing something entirely unimportant.

"You can't just..."

"I can."

Lucia shook her head, but this time it wasn't just about the money. Tavo had helped her more times than she cared to remember. In the beginning, she'd accepted his help because she hadn't seen any other way out, and he had been someone capable of solving problems she couldn't handle on her own. But now, something between them had changed completely. She didn't want to find herself back in a situation where his presence meant, above all, being rescued, while she was left having to accept whatever he offered.

She didn't want their relationship to return to what it had once been. Not after everything that had happened between them.

"You help me with my problems too often. I don't want you taking another one on yourself."

Tavo watched her silently for a moment. He understood that her resistance wasn't an attempt to reject his help. Quite the opposite. It was precisely because what existed between them no longer felt insignificant to her that she didn't want his concern to put them back into roles they had both left behind long ago.

"Lu..." he said calmly. "This isn't another problem I'm taking on."

She frowned, as though she didn't quite understand.

"Then what is it?"

Tavo gave her hands a gentle squeeze.

"I'm here with you. That's different."

Lucia lowered her eyes. Those simple words affected her far more deeply than she'd expected. Because that was what frightened her most of all—that by accepting his help, she would once again become someone she no longer wanted to be. Someone dependent on him, instead of a woman capable of making her own decisions.

Tavo seemed to see that thought in her expression.

"You don't owe me anything," he added more softly. "You don't have to pay me back, or prove that you can manage on your own. That's not what this is about."

Lucia looked up at him.

"But..."

"If you want to do something on your own, I'll respect that." He smiled faintly. "But if you let me do something for you now and then, I won't have a problem with that either."

She stared at him without speaking for a moment. There was no pity in his voice, no sense of obligation. Only the quiet certainty that having him by her side wasn't a debt she would one day have to repay.

"It's not that simple," she said at last.

"I know."

Tavo answered without hesitation.

"But we don't have to make everything so complicated. Just let me be here for you this time."

They sat in silence, waiting for the consultation to end. Eventually, Lucia rose from her chair, more because she could no longer bear to sit still than because she actually wanted to move. The waiting was becoming increasingly unbearable. She walked a short distance down the corridor, then turned back.

Tavo didn't say anything, but he stood up too.

Lucia stopped in front of him. For a second, it looked as though she wanted to say something. Instead, she simply rested her forehead against his chest.

She no longer knew exactly when she'd stopped holding herself back around him. Only a few weeks earlier, a gesture like this would have seemed too intimate, too revealing. Now she simply didn't have the strength to pretend she didn't need someone beside her. And with Tavo, she didn't even have to ask for comfort. All she had to do was take that one small step toward him.

Instinctively, Tavo placed his hands on her shoulders and slowly moved them down, then back up again, maintaining the same calm, soothing rhythm. Lucia felt the warmth of his body against her cheek, the steady rise and fall of his breathing, and the unwavering stability that had seemed almost unbelievable to her over the past few days. With him, the world was still uncertain. The doctors could still emerge with more bad news. But at least she wasn't alone.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, the tension began to ease. First from her neck, then from her shoulders. Her body recognized the safety it had found long before her mind could fully accept it.

At last, the doors opened. The attending physician came out first, followed closely by Dr. Monara. They exchanged a few quiet words and glances that seemed to last far too long to Lucia. Her heart was beating so hard that, for a moment, she could hear it more clearly than the sounds of the hospital corridor.

She turned toward them and froze. She felt that if she made even the slightest movement, if she allowed herself to take a deeper breath, everything might fall apart.

Tavo said nothing. He simply stepped closer and stood behind her, close enough for her to feel the warmth of his presence. He wrapped his arms around her instinctively—too quickly for it to have been entirely deliberate, yet with too much certainty for it to be accidental. One hand came to rest lightly on her hip, calm and reassuring, without claiming any space that wasn't his. It was simply a quiet reminder that she wasn't standing there alone.

Lucia didn't even turn her head. She didn't have to. Over the past few days, she'd learned to recognize his presence almost instinctively. His touch didn't unsettle her. On the contrary, it helped her find her balance again.

The neurologist approached them with a smile. Lucia could barely stand the suspense any longer.

"How's my mother?"

"First of all, I'd like you to try to stay calm. Your mother is safe."

The doctor continued speaking, but Lucia could no longer follow his words. They seemed to slip past her, as though her mind had reached the point where it could no longer take in any more information. Only after a moment did their meaning begin to penetrate the noise of her fear.

"Her condition is stable. The crisis has been brought under control. At the moment, there is no immediate threat to her life."

For a fraction of a second, Lucia simply stared at him, unsure whether she'd heard correctly. The words seemed almost too good to believe.

She released a long, deep breath, as though only now remembering that she'd barely been breathing for hours.

"Thank you."

For days, she'd been living from one update to the next, from one fear to another, refusing even to consider what would happen if she really lost her mother. Now the tension began to leave her almost all at once. First her shoulders sagged, then her head lowered. Before she had time to think, she leaned against Tavo.

She didn't need to turn around. His hands were already there—one resting firmly on her hip, the other encircling her waist. Lucia closed her eyes and, for a moment, simply allowed herself to lean her full weight against him. She could feel the warmth of his hands and the steady rhythm of his breathing just behind her.

Dr. Monara smiled at them once more and gave a small nod.

"I'll see you in my office in a few minutes, and we'll go over the details. I just need to change first."

Tavo watched the doctor walk away over the top of Lucia's head, but he was no longer aware of the corridor around him. All he could feel was her calmer breathing and the weight of her body, no longer struggling to hold itself upright on its own. Her unquestioning trust touched something deep inside him, more deeply than he wanted to admit, even to himself.

He no longer even tried to convince himself that this was nothing more than concern. He knew the feeling too well. He knew why he'd rushed to her side so quickly, why her fear could become his own, and why her touch had ceased to be something he needed to think twice about. He didn't yet know where this would lead them, but he was beginning to understand, with growing clarity, that theirs was no longer a relationship that could be neatly defined in simple words.

He drew her a little closer and rested his cheek against her hair. For a brief moment, he allowed himself simply to be grateful that, this time, fate had been kind.

Searching for the cause of a stroke

In the office, Dr. Monara went over the scans and medical records once more, this time at a more relaxed pace, explaining to Lucia exactly what had happened to her mother. Given the crisis Rosa had suffered, her condition was good. Most importantly, they had managed to bring it under control.

Only after setting the scans aside did he look at Lucia more closely.

"I'd like to ask you a few more questions. Before this happened, had your mother been behaving differently than usual?"

Lucia was silent for a moment.

"Yes."

Sitting beside her, Tavo immediately noticed the change in her expression. Only a few minutes earlier, her tension had begun to ease. Now it had returned, though in a different form—less frantic, more focused.

"She'd been very upset lately," Lucia finally said. "She was trying to tell me something, but she had an attack before she could finish."

"Tell you what?"

Lucia shook her head.

"I don't know. All I know is that it had something to do with the past. Something that was really troubling her. And... I think she felt guilty about it."

She hesitated before continuing.

"That's what I find so strange. We come from a small town. If something really important had happened, I would surely have known about it. And my mother had never kept secrets from me like this before."

Tavo didn't say a word. He watched her carefully, aware that she was trying to piece together the facts herself, searching for meaning in things that had made no sense to her until now.

Lucia was calmer, but sadness still lingered in her eyes. Now that the worst of her fear for her mother's life had temporarily subsided, that strange memory was coming back to her with increasing force—Rosa's distress, the words left unspoken, and a sense of guilt Lucia had never seen in her before.

Suddenly, she wanted to know what her mother had been so desperate to tell her.

Dinner with Kuka

Lucia got home later that evening than she'd expected.

The door closed quietly behind her, and the familiar scent of the apartment greeted her almost at once. For a moment, she stood motionless, her hand still resting on the doorknob. Only now, when she no longer had to wait for another update from the doctor or wonder what might happen in the next hour, did she begin to feel just how exhausting the day had been.

"Lucia?" Kuka's voice came from the kitchen before Lucia had even managed to take off her coat.

Kuka appeared in the living room doorway and studied her in silence for a moment. One look was enough to tell her how tired Lucia was.

"Well?" she asked immediately, without any unnecessary preamble.

Lucia let out a breath, as though only now could she finally allow herself to breathe properly.

"She's stable," she said quietly. "The crisis has passed."

For a moment, the room grew quieter, as though even the sound of the television had suddenly lost its significance. Kuka raised her eyebrows, then offered a brief smile. The relief showed more clearly in her eyes than in her words.

"Didn't I tell you everything would work out?" she said with a hint of teasing, though the relief in her expression was far too evident for her words to be taken as a mere joke.

Lucia simply nodded. She didn't have the energy for anything more, not even a smile. Kuka watched her for another moment, then sighed.

"Have you eaten anything today?"

"Not really..."

"'Not really' doesn't sound like 'yes,'" Kuka said at once, gentle but firm. "Come on."

Before Lucia could protest, Kuka took her lightly by the hand and guided her toward the kitchen, as though it were the most natural thing in the world.

"I'm really not hungry," Lucia murmured, more out of habit than any genuine desire to argue.

"I know," Kuka replied. "But you're going to eat something anyway."

The kitchen was warmer. Without a word, Kuka opened the refrigerator, took out a few things, and began putting together a simple meal. She didn't ask Lucia if she felt like eating. Apparently, she had decided that, for the moment, the important thing was simply to get some food into her.

Lucia sat down at the table, more because she'd been told to sit than because she actually had the strength to do so. Only then did she realize just how exhausted she was—not physically, but mentally.

"You must be completely worn out," Kuka said, turning to look at her for a moment. "Eat."

Lucia looked at her with a gratitude she couldn't quite put into words. Kuka placed a plate in front of her, then set another one down for herself and took the seat opposite.

"Eat," she repeated softly.

For a while, they ate in silence. It wasn't awkward silence, but a peaceful, homely quiet that allowed their thoughts to settle little by little.

After a while, Kuka gently steered the conversation toward lighter subjects—the plans for an upcoming casting, some ridiculous incident on set, little things that no longer carried the weight of hospital corridors. Lucia listened, occasionally responding with a faint smile or a word or two.

She didn't have to talk about the hospital, the doctors, or everything that had happened that day. Kuka seemed to understand that, this time, the best way to help was to let her spend at least a little while thinking about something else entirely.

Chapter 9 – Mercedes' Death

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