Chapter 139
Chapter 139
Sutton hadn’t stood on her own yet, but with Luca’s arm tucked under hers and a nurse steadying her opposite side, she made the slow, careful walk down the short hallway toward the NICU, that was after a very necessary trip to the bathroom.
It was humbling how broken her body felt. Every shift of weight ached. Her hip radiated something sharp if she turned even a degree too far, and the stitches pulled at her stomach.
She wasn’t thinking about her injuries. She was thinking about him. The tiny baby who had come twelve weeks too early. Their son.
Luca hadn’t said much during the walk. His hand I never left hers, letting her pace herself.
The NICU doors opened with a soft click, controlled and climate–sealed. Monitors beeped at intervals throughout the room. Every crib was spaced out intentionally, and tiny lives lived between glass and plastic domes.
They moved to the second incubator near the end of the row.
Inside, beneath a tangle of tubes and wires thin as threads, a baby smaller than Sutton had ever imagined lay curled up. A knitted blue cap covered most of his dark hair. His eyelids fluttered. His chest rose in soft jerks.
Sutton didn’t realize she was crying again until a tear hit her collarbone.
Luca stood behind her, one hand on her shoulder, one arm around her waist.
She whispered, “He’s… so small.”
“He’s a De Santis,” Luca said gently, eyes still locked on the incubator. “He’s a fighter. He’ll grow into the power trip later.”
Sutton laughed; it was painful, and she winced.
Luca asked when he felt her stiffen. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” Sutton said, wiping her cheek. “Laughing just hurts.”
Then she looked again.
Their baby. Pink and translucent. She’d carried him for twenty–eight weeks. And should have carried him longer. But it wasn’t meant to be. He was here weeks before his expected birthday.
“Can I… touch him?” She asked the nurse standing near the monitor.
“You can,” the nurse said warmly. “Try for his hand or foot first. Skin–to–skin will come later, maybe in a couple of days. For now, we keep his temperature stable.”
Sutton nodded, putting her hand inside the incubator, reached slowly, her hand trembling, and gently brushed her knuckle against the soft heel of his foot.
His toes twitched.
“Oh,” Sutton breathed. The sound cracked. She so wanted to hold him, to feed him, but she couldn’t yet. They had her expressing milk so that wh could feed him, her milk would be there and ready.
he
Luca’s voice dropped to a near whisper beside her. “When I first came in, his hand wrapped around my finger. It was like he was telling me he was okay without words.”
Sutton didn’t speak. She was afraid she might cry again if she opened it.
They didn’t speak for a while, just stood there together watching their son.
Then Luca asked softly, “Do you have a name?”
Sutton didn’t look away from the incubator.
“I was going to say… Miles,” she murmured.
Luca blinked.
“Miles?”
She bit the inside of her cheek, trying not to grin. “I mean… it’s probably ridiculous. He is sort of responsible for us being together again and our catching Nicole.” She trailed off, blushing faintly under the hospital lights. “Everything started again from that night.”
Luca said nothing for a second.
Then he nodded, contemplative.
“I don’t hate it,” he said.
Sutton turned to look at him, surprised.
He met her eyes. “Miles De Santis. It suits him somehow. Like he’s always going to be a step ahead of us.”
Sutton laughed again, carefully this time.
“You’re not kidding.”
“Nope.”
She shook her head and smiled softly. “That’s kind of sweet. In a weird, tech–nerd, full–circle kind of way.”
Luca kept his eyes on the tiny bundle in the crib but reached out, his fingers brushing her hip gently.
“Sweet’s not always bad,” he said. “Plus, he is a reminder of our second chance.”
They stood there for a few more minutes, just watching him breathe.
Sutton said his name out loud, testing it.
“Miles.”
It felt right.
A nurse came over, interrupting their moment. “Sorry, folks, family’s in the recovery room asking for Mom. Should I let them know you’re here?”
Sutton said, “No, it’s okay; we can come back.”
Fifteen minutes later, Sutton was back in bed. Tucked upright against pillows, her face flushed, and her body beyond tired, her family was a force of nature, and they hadn’t seen her conscious since the accident. So, she understood their need to be with her now she was awake.
Blair arranged a massive bouquet of wildflowers on a side table. Roman was standing with her, trying but failing to be helpful.
Luca introduced his younger brother Antonio and his wife Bella. She could see Bella was very uncomfortable. She would think she was the reason that Sutton and Luca hadn’t been together, but it hadn’t been her fault. Sutton would love to point fingers and blame someone, but really it was no one to
blame.
Keira gave Sutton a hug, careful not to hurt her. Standing back, she grinned at Sutton. “I didn’t wanna hit you with jokes until we were sure you weren’t going to drop dead mid–sentence.”
Sutton grinned. “I appreciate that. Sister of the year.”
“But now that you’re technically not dying…” Keira waved a hand vaguely over Sutton’s post–op body. “Jesus, you look like last week’s cut footage.*
Everyone burst into laughter.
It hurt, but it felt good. Real. Grounding.
Even Roman cracked a half–smile.
“You’re okay,” Keira said a second later, softer now. “We were so- ‘She couldn’t finish.
Sutton didn’t make her.
She reached out and took her sister’s hand and squeezed it.
Changing the subject. “Hey,” Sutton asked, shifting her gaze. “We’ve named the baby.”
Everyone turned toward her.
“He does have one?” Blair raised her eyebrows. “Tell us you didn’t do something dramatic like naming him after a Renaissance painter or Bart…who on earth would name their child Bart after the Simpsons?”
“No,” Luca answered.
Sutton tilted her chin toward him, eyes glinting.
“He’s named after a hacker.”
Keira blinked. “Wait. Seriously?”
Luca grinned. “Yup.”
“Miles De Santis,” Sutton clarified.
There was a pause.
Then a collective: “Huh.”
Roman finally gave a slow, approving nod. “Kinda badass.”
Blair tilted her head. “Unexpected.”
Keira smirked. “I mean, I was betting on ‘Justice‘ or ‘Phoenix‘ or something with glitter and trauma. But promise me I will not be bailing him out of jail in eighteen years time and I’m good.”
Sutton coughed–laughed again. “Sorry to disappoint. There will be no bailing my child out of jail.”
They stayed another ten minutes, filling the room with just enough warmth. It was so good having them here but also tiring.
Eventually the nurse peeked in again and gave a subtle, respectful look of… visiting hours are now officially over. Even in private rooms, there were rules. They were allowing Luca to stay.
Everyone took the hint.
There were hugs, gentle ones. A few kisses on foreheads. Keira promised to sneak her favorite takeout next visit.
And then they were gone.
Later that night, Luca sat again at her bedside, one hand resting on her leg beneath the thin hospital blanket.
The room was darker now. She had slept for a few hours after her family had left. They had gone back and spent time with Miles. She couldn’t believe she was so tired again.
Sutton lay back, one hand on her stomach, eyes half–lidded.
“Thank you,” she said softly.
“For what?” Luca asked.
“For loving me.”
Luca leaned down, kissed her on the mouth.
“Always.”
