novelraw Chapter 251: Leave
Chapter 251: Leave
Chapter 249
KATYA POV
Light pressed against my eyelids. My head throbbed in slow, uneven pulses, and my limbs felt like they belonged to someone else—heavier than they should be, foreign, disconnected.
I blinked. The room swam around me. Familiar shapes blurred at the edges: the wardrobe, the low table, the white walls, the window catching the weak morning light.
My chest rose and fell, but the rhythm was uneven, shallow. Something warm pressed against my arm. A small stir nearby. My eyes drifted to the bed beside me.
Nonna.
Her head rested on a pillow too close for anyone’s comfort but hers. Thin lines of fatigue carved her face, her hair loose against the pillow.
Her lashes fluttered, and as I shifted—tentatively, painfully—her eyes opened. Small, wary, and immediately aware.
"Mia cara," she whispered, her voice hoarse but soft, carrying a weight I didn’t have the strength to lift.
I tried to speak. My throat was dry. Only a broken cough escaped. My hand twitched toward hers before I realized I had already curled my fingers against her arm.
Nonna’s lips curved faintly, almost a ghost of a smile, before she pressed her hand gently against mine. "Shh... shh, I’m here," she murmured. "You’re awake. That’s all that matters right now."
I nodded as her eyes searched mine, careful, steady. "It’s all right, okay?"
"Yes, I’m okay," I whispered at last. The words felt fragile, like they might shatter if I said them too loudly. "I think... I’m okay."
Nonna studied me for a long moment, like she was deciding whether to believe me or not Then her shoulders relaxed just a little, and that faint smile returned—small, tired, but real.
"There you are," she said softly. "That’s my brave girl." I swallowed, my throat aching. My eyes drifted away from her face, drawn instead to the far wall.
The clock hung there. Its soft ticking filled the spaces between our breaths.
4:00 a.m. I frowned, my brows knitting together as confusion crept in. "That’s not right," I murmured. "It was... it was afternoon. The sun was still up."
Nonna’s hand tightened gently over mine. "You’ve been asleep for many hours."
My heart skipped. "Hours?" I echoed, my voice rising despite myself. "I—I fainted for that long?"
"You didn’t faint, mia cara," she said carefully. "You collapsed. And you were... very unwell." A cold wave washed through me. Bits and pieces tried to surface—voices, pressure, the weight of hands holding me down—but they slipped away before I could grasp them.
"What happened?" I asked quietly.
Nonna hesitated. Just for a second. Then she sighed, brushing her thumb over my knuckles in slow, soothing strokes. "Doctor Isabella gave you something an injection. To help calm you. You were hurting yourself without realizing it."
My breath caught. "Hurting... myself?"
"You were clawing at your neck," Nonna said gently. "You couldn’t breathe. You couldn’t hear us. You were lost in your head." Her eyes shone faintly in the low light. "We were afraid you would injure yourself badly if we didn’t stop it."
Shame burned low in my chest, tangled with fear. I looked down at my hands, half-expecting to see blood. They trembled faintly, but they were clean.
"I’m sorry," I whispered.
Nonna shook her head immediately. "No. No, you do not apologize for pain," she said firmly. "You survived something terrible. Your mind did what it could to protect you—even if it felt like the opposite."
I pressed my lips together, fighting the sudden sting behind my eyes. The room felt too quiet now, like it was holding its breath. I shifted carefully, the weight in my body still heavy but no longer unbearable.
"I feel strange," I admitted. "Like everything is slow."
"That will pass," Nonna said. "The medicine is still wearing off. You’ll feel clearer soon."
I nodded faintly, then glanced at the clock again. Almost morning. A whole night gone. It felt wrong—like time had slipped through my fingers while I wasn’t looking.
"Nonna," I whispered.
"Yes, my heart?"
I hesitated, then shook my head. "I want to...." I inhaled deeply. " I want to leave." Nonna didn’t answer right away.
She turned her head fully toward me, her gaze sharpening—not alarmed, not angry. Just attentive. Like she wanted to make sure she heard me correctly.
"Leave," she repeated softly.
"Yes," I said, the word rushing out now that it had a shape. "I don’t want to be here anymore. I—I can’t." My fingers twisted into the blanket. "Please."
I braced myself for questions. For concern wrapped in logic. Where? Why? Are you sure?
I expected her to remind me that I was weak, that I needed rest, that things would look different after the sun came up.
Instead, Nonna nodded once.
"Okay."
I blinked. "O... okay?"
She shifted carefully on the bed, pushing herself upright despite the stiffness in her movements. "If you want to leave," she said calmly, "then we leave."
My chest stuttered. "You’re not— you’re not going to ask me why?"
Nonna looked at me then, really looked at me. "I don’t need to," she said. "Your eyes already told me."
She reached out, tucking the blanket higher around my shoulders like I was still a child. "We’ll leave together," she added gently. "Si?"
For a moment, I thought I’d misheard her.
"Together?" I echoed.
"Yes."
My heart began to pound again, but this time it wasn’t panic—it was disbelief. "Nonna... Romeo is your grandson." The words tangled awkwardly on my tongue. "He’s—he’s your blood. I’m just— I’m not—"
"Enough," she said softly, but firmly.
I swallowed hard. Nonna studied me for a long second. Then she asked, very gently, "Is there anywhere you want to go?"
I shook my head. "No. I just... away." She hummed thoughtfully, her thumb brushing slow circles against the back of my hand.
I looked at her, confused. "You’d really leave? With me?"
Her mouth curved into a small, sad smile. "I have lived a long life, Katya. Long enough to know when staying causes more harm than leaving." Her eyes softened
"And long enough to know when someone needs me more." My throat tightened painfully.
"We could go to Italy," she said, almost casually. " It’s quiet. No questions. Just sun and sea and time." She tilted her head. "Is that okay with you?"
Italy. The word felt unreal. Distant. Like a door I hadn’t known existed suddenly swinging open. I have never been there before. I stared at her, stunned. "You’d really choose to leave... instead of staying here?"
Nonna’s gaze didn’t waver. "I am choosing you," she said simply. Tears burned my eyes before I could stop them. I nodded, the movement small but certain.
"Yes," I whispered. "That’s... that’s okay."
Nonna smiled warmly, "Good. Then we’ll rest for a little while longer. And when the sun comes up," she squeezed my hand, "we start packing."
††
Well well well