Hidden Heart

by Camelia Miron Skiba

  Victor came and placed a hand on his shoulder. “A very corrupt and sad world, my friend. And this is not all; the notary has been missing for a week now. Some speculated she fled the country with all the money. Her office closed down and police are investigating, but her father is trying to keep everything away from the media. It’s election year, if you know what I mean.”

  ***

  Later that day Alessandro ordered fresh flowers to be delivered to the hospital. When he arrived, flower arrangements filled Tessa’s room. There was no change in her condition.

  He split his time between the office and hospital. He also went to the police station, where Victor, a lawyer, a translator and two police officers discussed the incident. They made very little progress and Alessandro thought he might go crazy with frustration.

  He wanted the bastard who had done this to Tessa to be caught as soon as possible. At first, he was reluctant to point his finger towards Daniel in front of the police. Other than those appalling encounters he had with him, nothing else had happened and accusing someone without proof in a foreign country seemed dangerous. But he realized the police needed more information, so he told them about Daniel. He also told them Tessa’s car disappeared; maybe that would point them in the right direction; maybe the same person who stole the car was responsible for what happened to her. The officers cleared Alessandro from their suspect’s list and promised they’d find Daniel and talk to him.

  Alessandro went to Tessa’s apartment days later, after the police removed all the yellow “Do Not Cross” tape, and cleaned the house. He scrubbed the kitchen where he imagined her ordeal happened and brought it back to normal. He also called both her sisters, who were terrified upon hearing the bad news. Alessandro promised to call as soon as there were changes to her condition. In shared grief, an invisible bond began between them, although they never met in person, and they felt at ease talking to each other. Octavia and Chiara would come to Bucharest as soon as they could.

  Two weeks after the attack, Victor invited Alessandro to his office. His demeanor somber, he started without introduction, “The police found the car.” He lit a cigar and puffed several times then continued, “It was impounded. It has been wrecked; it looks so bad I barely recognized it. It appears Daniel got into an accident in it the same night Tessa was beaten up.

  “He died at the hospital the following day. The police are still investigating, but most likely he’s the criminal. They found her wallet in his pocket...he somehow got in to her house, did those horrible things to her, stole her keys and fled the scene. The level of his alcohol was three times over the legal limit,” Victor concluded.

  Alessandro couldn’t say a word; he felt overwhelmed and furious that Daniel wouldn’t be made to pay for what he’d done to Tessa. He’d had a feeling Daniel was behind this nightmare, now the police had proof. On the other hand, he didn’t want Daniel to die, but to face his sentence. Alessandro felt cheated; he was enraged. How dare Daniel weasel out without paying for what he’d done to Tessa? He’d expected—hoped—that the police would prove Daniel’s guilt, and that they could watch the maggot squirm under a judge’s eye as he was tried, found guilty, and sent away for what he’d done. He felt fury well up in him at the unfairness of it all, weak, with nowhere to unleash his hostility.

  That night, Alessandro went to see Tessa as usual. He paid for flowers to be refreshed in her room, as often as needed, so when she woke up, they’d surround her. He talked to her every day, but never got any movement or acknowledgment from her. She seemed asleep, but he kept expecting her to just wake up. Her bruises changed colors slowly and the swelling in her face began to disappear.

  He took her hand and told her softly, “They caught him, amore mio. It’s over. We know who did this to you; he’ll never touch you again. Promise.”

  He felt a weak squeeze. He held his breath. This was the first sign that she heard him since that first night he came into her room. Like then, he didn’t know if this was real or if he imagined it.

  “Oh, cara mia…can you hear me? If you hear me, please squeeze my hand…Please?” Nothing happened. Just his imagination then.

  ***

  One day, a month after the attack, he came in to see her breathing on her own—a big improvement. Alessandro hoped and expected every day that she’d wake up. The bruises were almost gone, several of the bandages removed and her face calm and relaxed. He was concerned the doctors weren’t telling him everything; why didn’t she wake up?

  A few days later, a psychiatrist came into the room and introduced himself.

  “I am afraid your fiancée refuses to wake up. What happened to her was so traumatic, her brain refuses to acknowledge the trauma. By sleeping, she is in a self-imposed comatose state that allows her to not feel any pain.”

  “Does she hear me? What has to happen for her to wake up?” Alessandro said.

  “She has to find the will to wake up. She prefers this condition to anything else. This way she doesn’t have to acknowledge the attack; nothing can hurt her, nothing can touch her. It’s mostly self-induced,” the doctor answered.

  Alessandro went home. He got behind closed doors, where nobody could hear or see him, and fell apart. He poured a glass of tequila and in one single swallow he emptied it. The golden liquid burned its way down his throat, into his stomach. His gaze fell on the last photo of him and Tessa in Greece, resting on his desk. He could almost hear her laughter; God did he miss it! She looked so beautiful and happy. He looked happy. Where was all of that now?

  He threw the glass at his image in the mirror across the room. It shattered and glass littered the floor. Then with a roar, he turned and in a single vicious motion, he brushed everything off the desk; his laptop flew across the room breaking a nightstand lamp; pens, notebooks and papers scattered everywhere. The room looked like a tornado had been through it, but he didn’t care.

  Without flinching, without even glancing at the mess he made, Alessandro went to take a shower. Drops of water ran down his face, mixing with the tears of all the grief and fury he held inside. His fists kicked the walls, until his knuckles bled, then defeated he slid against the wall and wailed until his tears were all spent. He stepped out of the tub and cleaned the foggy mirror. No traces of pain on his face, his jaw relaxed and no tremor in his hands. His moment of weakness over, he’d need all the strength he could muster for the days, or months to come. Tessa needed him and he was determined to do whatever it took to help her.

  He tried anything to occupy his time with the hope each day that the doctors would call him with the news that she had woken up.

  Victor told him there was land for sale in his neighborhood. Knowing how much Tessa would love to have a house in that area he met with a realtor. He found the right terrain and purchased it. He planned to have a house built, in anticipation that Tessa would accept to move into it with him. He met with architects and contractors and after making a couple of changes, he decided on a floor plan.

  He called Chiara and asked if she or Octavia would come to Bucharest; he feared Tessa might have some brain damage that the doctors weren’t sharing with him.

  “Actually I was planning on calling you tonight. My colleague is willing to take over my classes for a while; I’ll be there in two days,” Chiara said.

  Alessandro waited for her at the airport. He knew how she looked from the many photos scattered all over Tessa’s apartment. They both seemed nervous to finally meet, but by the time they arrived at the hospital they felt at ease with each other. He asked for the doctor to come to Tessa’s room and meet her sister.

  Dr. Ivan showed up later and told her everything he told Alessandro before.

  “I’m as surprised as you are to see that she doesn’t wake up, but as the psychiatrist told Mr. Santinelli, most likely she refuses to wake up. The trauma she went through could mark her for the rest of her life, even cause a loss of memory. Only time will tell; in the meantime, we need to just be patient and wait; she’ll wake up when
she’s ready.”

  That evening Alessandro and Chiara had dinner together at her parents’ house. He’d gone there several times with Tessa, helping her sort boxes; it hurt to be there without her.

  “It drives me insane to not be able to talk to her. I just want to know she is okay. And no matter what the doctors tell me, I still want her to be the one telling me how she feels.”

  Chiara placed a hand on his arm. “I know how you feel, Alessandro. And I want to thank you for being by her side all this time. Both Octavia and I are so grateful she has you in her life to be there for her when she needs help the most.”

  “I am not sure I am of any use. I wasn’t there to really help her when she needed me; that bastard almost killed her and I wasn’t around to protect her!” His jaw clenched and his knuckles turned white on the wine glass.

  “You cannot put this on your shoulders. Don’t feel guilty for something you had no control over,” Chiara said soothingly. She stood and removed their plates, then turned and sat across from him.

  “You really care for her, don’t you?”

  “The night I returned from Italy…I brought an engagement ring for her. I wanted to ask her to marry me. I should’ve asked her to come with me to Italy, to pick out the ring together. It would still be a surprise and all of this would’ve been avoided.”

  Until then, Alessandro had never voiced out loud his feelings for Tessa. He knew she was the best thing that happened to him since his wife passed away, and he believed they had a future together. After they first met, he tried to find her, thought often of her, dreamt of her, wondered how was she doing. He was a strong believer that everything happened for a reason and he had hoped, someday they’d meet again, and he could make things right between them.

  When they met again in Victor’s office, almost a year after their first encounter, it seemed fate had given him a second chance. He’d thought it was going well; he loved her and she seemed to love him back. Now, he felt that he’d taken the chance given him, and completely botched it—at the expense of Tessa.

  He felt embarrassed for being so honest, but Chiara hugged him and said, “Thank you. You’re a wonderful person. Tessa is so lucky to have you in her life.”

  ***

  The next morning Chiara went to the hospital. She stayed in Tessa’s room until Alessandro arrived shortly after five o’clock. There was no change in Tessa’s condition. They kept this routine for several days. Chiara spent every day in the hospital, read and talked to Tessa, massaged her arms and legs. Sometimes tears choked her voice; her little sister lay there motionless, hurt and broken. Nobody could say if or when she’d wake up. It seemed as if Tessa didn’t want to live anymore, didn’t want to be in contact with the outside world.

  Chapter 13

  Tessa stirred under her covers. Her body hurt. She felt the needle poking her vein and the plastic tubes in her nostrils. Someone lifted her left eyelid—a nurse—and flashed a tiny light in her pupil. Tessa blinked confused, and turned her head, trying to lift her head from the pillow. She felt dizzy as she fell back on the pillow.

  The nurse hurried out of Tessa’s room, yelling down the hall, “She’s awake” and returned followed by several other medical staff.

  “Miss Cosma, you had an accident a while ago, but we’re glad to have you back,” the doctor said, taking her pulse. He asked her to breathe in and out, then to hold her breath while he examined her. “Everything seems normal, but we’ll keep you monitored for a little longer.”

  When the room cleared, Chiara rushed closer to the bed, took Tessa’s hand and said, “Hi, honey. How are you feeling?” She kissed her sister’s forehead.

  Tessa’s eyes filled up with tears. She recalled with perfect clarity what had happened to her. She remembered Daniel hitting her, dragging her by the hair. She remembered him straddling her and… She put both hands on her abdomen.

  “My baby?…”

  Chiara hugged her, rocking her slowly. “Oh, honey, you lost the baby…but you’re young and you’ll have others…Alessandro really loves you.”

  Alessandro.

  Tessa remembered wishing for him to save her from Daniel’s hands. He never came. She never had the chance to tell him about the baby.

  She sobbed in Chiara’s arms.

  “It’s okay, honey…let it all out…it’s okay…” Chiara whispered into her hair. She continued to rock her like a mother rocks her child. “Octavia will be coming soon…we’ll stay with you until you are on your feet…you’ll recover and get back to your normal life…”

  Her normal life had been shattered. There was no normal life for her. Her sisters weren’t really her sisters; just half-sisters since she had found out from her mama’s letter.

  “…And Victor said you can return to work whenever you want to, no hurry.”

  Her career was over. Signing contracts without reading their content was illegal and her mistake were unacceptable.

  “Why did I have to wake up?” Tessa asked between sobs. “Why? Why didn’t I die?” Her sobs turned to screams as she pushed Chiara away. She curled into a ball and hit the pillow with her tight fists. Two nurses showed up and held onto her arms while a doctor administered her a sedative. Her wailing became a whimper and within seconds she fell asleep.

  “What happened?” Alessandro asked when he entered Tessa’s room and saw Chiara crying in a corner. She wiped her tears off. “She woke up, we talked a little and she began screaming…they had to sedate her,” she said. She shook her head and looked sadly towards the bed. “I don’t know how she’ll be able to cope with this…” She picked a tissue from the nearby table and blew her nose. “She’ll be out for a few hours. You should go home, I’ll stay with her.”

  “I’m not going anywhere, Chiara. I have to be here when she wakes up. What if she needs me?”

  ***

  An inhumane shriek made Alessandro jump out of the chair. Tessa’s fists beat the air while she struggled to fight someone or something. He ran to her and caught her in his arms. She fought to free herself and kicked at him with her legs.

  A nurse rushed to help him. She turned on the lights, took a syringe out of her pocket and injected Tessa’s shoulder. She opened her eyes and blinked quickly trying to focus on the person holding her. Tears flooded her eyes as she tried to lift her hand to his cheek, but her arm dropped heavily back on the bed. The nurse left, turning off the lights.

  Alessandro held Tessa’s limp body against his and rocked her. He caressed her hair, her face. She looked so frail, so thin. He covered her and pulled a chair next to the bed, where he sat and watched her sleep, holding her delicate hand. He fought to stay awake, but at last fatigue took over.

  Someone’s hand shook his shoulder.

  “Alessandro, you need to go home,” Chiara said. She brought coffee and muffins.

  Alessandro yawned and stretched in his chair. His neck hurt from the odd position he slept in. He stood and walked a few steps, rotated his shoulders and stretched again.

  “What a night,” he said, taking the cup of coffee from Chiara’s hand. “I fell asleep and then I heard this horrible scream. She had a nightmare. A nurse gave her a sedative to calm her and help her fall back asleep.”

  Tessa lay in her bed, awake, but with her eyes closed. She heard them talking. Alessandro’s voice made her stomach flutter. Her pulse raced and her mouth felt dry. How she wished she could let him hold her. How she wished she could touch his face. How she wished she could brush her hand through his hair.

  But she couldn’t.

  She wasn’t worthy of his love. She didn’t deserve him. She didn’t deserve happiness. She was a bad person. She wanted to kill her own baby and God had punished her for the evil thoughts. Nothing would ever be the same again.

  Tessa stirred under the covers. She opened her eyes. She saw Chiara and Alessandro staring at her. Both rushed to her bed. Chiara arranged her pillows so she could sit rather than lay in bed.

  “Here, better now?” Chiara sa
id. “Are you hungry? The doctor said you could start eating something light, maybe some broth or yogurt, anything you want. I brought muffins and coffee. Would you like some?” In her eagerness to make Tessa feel good, Chiara kept talking, babbling on, until she realized Tessa wasn’t listening. She stared at the covers, clutching them to her chest, eyebrows raised and chin trembling.

  Alessandro sat next to Tessa and lifted his palm to caress her cheek. She flinched and turned her head away. His palm froze in the air then dropped in his lap.

  “Sorry…I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. He cradled his palms and swallowed hard. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there to…to save you…”

  She drew her knees to her chest and circled them with her arms. Her ribs felt sore and breathing hurt. A knot formed in her throat and tears rolled down her cheeks. She swallowed hard a few times, then looked at Chiara and whispered, “I don’t wanna be awake, can you help me sleep?”

  Chiara looked back and forth between Alessandro and Tessa and opened her mouth to say something. The door opened and a doctor and two nurses came in.

  “Good morning,” the doctor said. “Time for the morning round.”

  Chiara and Alessandro waited for the doctor outside Tessa’s door. When he came out he shook his head. “It’s going to be a difficult recovery. I’ll give her a sedative, but I don’t want her sleeping all the time. She’ll develop bedsores if she doesn’t get out of bed, especially after losing so much weight. I’ll have a psychiatrist evaluate her and she’ll start on physical therapy today,” the doctor said, and patted Alessandro on his shoulder as he left.

  When they returned to her room Tessa lay motionless on her side, her back to the door. A nurse brought a tray with food. Tessa didn’t touch it. Her stomach growled, but she refused to eat.