Page 140 of Family Bonds- Gabriela & Luca

The words landed between them, heavy and final.

He heard her inhale sharply over the line, a quiet catch of worry that made his chest tighten even more.

“I—I’m so sorry, Luca,” she said again, softer this time. “I can’t imagine… I just…”

“It’s okay,” he cut in quickly, almost too quickly. “I’m fine. I’m handling it.”

But the cold and relentless truth was a weight pressing down on him, almost turning him numb. His hands itched to clench, his stomach twisted, and every memory of last night—the sterile lights, the small body, Taylor’s tears—threatened to spill over, consuming him again.

He couldn’t go down that road again.

It was what he’d told himself last night.

“No, you’re not handling it. Not alone.”

He gritted his teeth. “Really,” he forced out. “It’s part of the job. Things like this? They happen. You learn to move forward.”

His mother hesitated. “Luca. I don’t have a lot of words. I wish I was there. I’m glad you’ve got Gabriela. How is she? Was she working when it happened?”

“Yes. She was called down to the ER to assist until they could get Taylor up to the maternity ward. She called me and we stayed with Taylor until the birth last night.”

He couldn’t talk about it anymore. Couldn’t relive it even though it was still so fresh in his memory.

“I’m sure she stayed with you last night.”

“I told her no. I wanted to be alone.”

“No,” his mother said, her voice firm through the sadness. “I’m not doing this again, Luca. I’m not there to see you. To watch over you. To worry again. You can’t do this to yourself.”

“I don’t need anyone to tell me how to handle this. It’s not the same as Zoe dying.” It was on the tip of his tongue to snap those words, but he’d held it back. Barely.

“No,” his mother said again. “In some ways I worry this is worse. That what you lost was hope. Hope is one of the hardest things to accept and then have it snatched away. I’m not wrong.”

“You’re not,” he agreed, closing his eyes and leaning back on the couch, his face lifted to the ceiling.

Her concern, her soft, careful voice, made it harder to keep up the mask. He wanted to tell her how hollow he felt, how unfair it seemed, how the ache in his chest wasn’t something he could just brush aside. But he couldn’t. Not yet.

But her annoyance, her frustration, her anxiety over him locking himself up again. That he could handle better. That he could defend. That he could stand up for.

“Then don’t shut everyone out again.”

“I’m not shutting anyone out,” he said. “I’m doing what I need to do. As a doctor, it’s not the first time I’ve dealt with a death or something terrible happening to a patient. That’s what this is.”

Even if the words he said were a lie.

One his mother wasn’t going to believe, he was positive.

“Luca,” his mother said, sighing. “I don’t buy for one minute that Gabriela was fine with not being with you last night. Not when you’ve talked about how well things were going with the two of you. How invested she was in it all too.”

“She had to work this morning, Mom. She didn’t leave the hospital until after midnight. If she had come home with me, neither one of us would have gotten much sleep. She understands.”

Those words were a lie too.

He’d seen the hurt in her eyes. The pain that he caused her.

But he couldn’t take the words back. He didn’t evenwantto and that might have been worse.

What he needed was to come home and grieve in silence. In solitude.