My Stepbrother's Dirty Little Secret novel Chapter 478

Chapter 478

Gianna

I didn’t remember falling asleep.

One second I had been sitting on the floor beside the bed. The next second, a hand touched my shoulder. I jerked awake so fast my neck immediately protested.

For a moment I didn’t know where I was, then reality crashed back into me. Mom. ALS. Everything.

My eyes snapped toward the bed immediately. Mom was still there, she was still breathing. Jules was curled against her side, one small hand fisted into Mom’s pajama shirt even in sleep.

Relief hit me so hard it almost hurt.

Then I realized somebody was standing beside me.

Salvatore.

The room was dark except for a small lamp glowing softly in the corner.

I scrambled upright, “Oh God. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to fall asleep in here, I’ll go,” I rubbed at my face, “You probably wanted some privacy.”

Salvatore nodded toward the bed, “You can take my side.”

I stared at him, “What?”

“The bed.”

“No.”

A faint smile touched his mouth, “Why not?”

Because it was his place, because he belonged there, because he was her husband and she loved him.

I shook my head, “I can’t take your spot.”

Salvatore studied me for a second. Then, without another word, he lowered himself onto the floor beside me.

I blinked, “What are you doing?”

“Sitting.”

“Here? Why?”

His eyebrow lifted, “Because apparently we’re both refusing to use the furniture.”

Because that was the part I couldn’t understand, nothing in this family stayed broken. Problems got solved, threats disappeared, money fixed things, power fixed things, connections fixed things.

The Capones fixed things.

But this… this was still here.

For a long moment, Salvatore didn’t answer, he just looked at mom, like he was deciding how much truth I could handle.

Finally, he let out a slow breath, “The first thing I did? I told the doctor he was wrong. Three different specialists. I paid for the best. Then I paid for better. I flew people in from other countries. People with degrees so long they needed two business cards.”

Salvatore shook his head.

“I argued with every single one of them. I found studies. Experimental treatments. Clinical trials. I spent months trying to prove somebody had made a mistake.”

I tilted my head, “And?”

Salvatore swallowed, “And eventually there were no more doctors left to argue with.”

My eyes burned, “So you just accepted it?”

Salvatore actually laughed. A short, tired sound, “No… No, I absolutely did not. I still haven’t. I wake up every morning hoping somebody calls me, hoping somebody tells me they found something. I know it isn’t rational but hope rarely is.”