The hospital room was too quiet. Not the peaceful kind of quiet. It was the kind of quiet that made every little sound feel frightening.
The steady beeping of the heart monitor seemed louder than it should have been. The faint hum of the air conditioner filled the room, while the occasional footsteps of nurses passing outside the door reminded Adrian that there were still people moving around the world as though nothing was wrong.
But everything was wrong. Everything in Adrian Moretti's small world was wrong. He sat beside his dying mother's hospital bed, his small fingers wrapped tightly around hers. He had been sitting there for what felt like hours, afraid that if he let go, something terrible would happen. Her hand was cold, too cold. Adrian rubbed her fingers gently between his palms, trying desperately to warm them.
"Mom?" he whispered anxiously, his eyes fixed on her pale face. "Are you awake?"
She didn't answer. His little chest tightened, his head thinking the unthinkable.
"Mom?" He called out in a hushed voice
Still nothing, he becomes very scared, perceiving what might have happened.
Adrian swallowed the lump forming in his throat and looked at her again. His mother, Sophia Moretti, had always been the strongest person he knew. She was the person who could make an entire room feel warm simply by smiling. She was the person who tucked him into bed when he had nightmares. The person who sat beside him when he was sick. The person who laughed whenever he complained about school. The person who always told him that no matter what happened, he would never be alone. But now she lay motionless beneath the white hospital sheets and he is unable to do anything for her. She didn't look like herself. She looked tired, pale, and fragile. And Adrian didn't understand why. He was only ten years old.
Ten-year-olds weren't supposed to understand why doctors whispered outside their mother's room. They weren't supposed to recognize the worried expressions on nurses' faces or understand why adults suddenly became quiet whenever they entered the room.
They weren't supposed to sit beside a hospital bed wondering whether the person they loved most would still be there tomorrow.
Adrian looked toward the closed door. His father still hadn't come. He was nowhere to be found and Adrian felt all alone again.
Again. He whispered... He lowered his head.
"Papa said he was coming," he murmured sadly, his voice trembling with disappointment. "He said he would come."
He looked at the door again as though staring at it hard enough might force it open.
Nothing happened. No sign of his father.
His father, Vincent Moretti, was always somewhere else. A meeting, A business trip, An important matter, A problem that needed his attention. There was always something that kept him away from the family.
Adrian had heard those excuses so many times that he had stopped asking questions.
But today was different. Today, he needed his father. He needed Vincent to walk through that door. He needed him to sit beside Sophia and hold her hand.
He needed his father to tell him that everything would be fine. For once, Adrian didn't need the powerful man everyone feared. He needed his father. He needed the man who was supposed to protect his family.
He needed someone to tell him that he wasn't going to lose his mother. But the door remained closed. Adrian's lower lip trembled. He quickly pressed his lips together, trying to stop himself from crying.
He had promised his mother he would be brave. At least, he thought he had. He wasn't sure anymore, he could feel what felt like a dagger piercing into his heart.
"Papa will come," he whispered, trying to convince himself. His voice was shaky and filled with childish hope. "He'll come soon."
For several seconds, nothing happened. Then Sophia's fingers moved. Adrian's head snapped toward her. His eyes widened with sudden hope.
"Mom?" He called out to her smiling. Her fingers moved again. "Mom!" he exclaimed excitedly, leaning closer to her. "You're awake!" Sophia's eyelids slowly opened.
Her eyes looked tired, but the moment they settled on her son, something warm appeared in them. A faint smile touched her lips. "Adrian..." she whispered weakly, her voice soft and exhausted.
Adrian immediately leaned closer, his face brightening despite the tears gathered in his eyes. "I'm here," he said quickly, his voice relieved. "I'm right here, Mom."
Sophia stared at him for a moment.
"My baby," she whispered affectionately, her voice carrying the tenderness of a mother who wanted to hold her child but no longer had the strength. Adrian gave a small, nervous smile. "I'm not a baby anymore," he complained softly, pretending to be offended even though his eyes remained wet. Sophia's lips curved slightly. "You'll always be my baby," she replied lovingly. Adrian looked down at their joined hands. "Are you okay?" he asked anxiously, his voice becoming quieter. Sophia hesitated.
Adrian immediately noticed. "You are okay, right?" he asked again, more urgently this time. "The doctor said you're getting better."
Sophia looked at him for a long moment. Then she smiled.
"You worry too much," she whispered gently.
"Because you're sick," Adrian replied, his voice carrying frustration and fear. "You keep saying you're fine, but you're not fine. Sophia's eyes softened. "You've always been stubborn," she murmured with a faint smile.
Adrian frowned. "You always say that." He smile softly "And I'll keep saying it," she answered affectionately. He tried to smile.
He really did. But the smile didn't last.
Something about the way his mother was looking at him made his stomach twist. She wasn't looking at him normally. She was looking at him as if she wanted to memorize every part of his face. Her gaze moved over his dark hair, his eyes, his small nose, and finally the little scar above his eyebrow. Adrian shifted uncomfortably. "Why are you looking at me like that?" he asked nervously. Sophia smiled sadly. "You're growing so fast," she whispered. Adrian rolled his eyes slightly, though the fear in them remained.
"That's not an answer." Sophia let out the faintest laugh. "You're still stubborn."
"And you're still avoiding my question," he replied, his voice filled with childish irritation.
Sophia smiled. For a moment, she looked like herself again.
Adrian wanted to hold on to that moment forever. "When are we going home?" he asked hopefully. Sophia's smile slowly disappeared. "I don't know about that," she answered quietly. Adrian's heart sank it felt as if the word had just stopped. "But the doctor said you're getting better," he insisted, his voice becoming more desperate. "He said you just need to rest." "I know." Came his mother's voice "So we'll go home soon?" Sophia looked away, tears forming in her eyes. Adrian watched her carefully. "Mom?" He called... She turned back toward him after wiping her tears.
"Promise me something," she said softly, her voice carrying an emotion Adrian couldn't understand. He frowned. "What is that?" He answered. Sophia's fingers weakly tightened around his. "Don't let this world change you." She muttered. Adrian stared at her, confused.
"What world?" He was curious but the situation around him wasn't in his favour
"The world your father lives in," she replied quietly. Adrian's brows knitted together.
"But Papa isn't bad, is he?," he said defensively, his voice carrying the loyalty of a child who still believed his father could do no wrong. Sophia didn't answer immediately.
"Mom?" He questioned "I know," she eventually whispered. "Then why are you saying that?" Adrian asked, his voice confused and slightly hurt. Sophia looked at him. "Because you're my son. Adrian waited.
She smiled faintly. "And I want you to remain the kind boy you are." Adrian nodded slowly even though he didn't completely understand. "I will." Sophia's eyes filled with emotion. "Good boy," she whispered. Adrian smiled weakly. Then he noticed something.
His mother's breathing had changed.
It was slower now. More strained. "Mom?" He called confused. Sophia blinked. Adrian leaned closer. "Mom, are you okay?" She looked at him. "Adrian..." She called his name. "I'm here," he replied quickly, his voice trembling.
"Be a good boy." She instructed, more like a wish. Adrian's eyes immediately filled with tears. "Why are you saying that mom?" Sophia smiled. "Because you're my brave boy." She added. Adrian shook his head. "I'm not brave," he whispered, his voice breaking.
"Yes, you are." She answered him
"No." He said. He squeezed her hand.
"I don't want to be brave."
Sophia's eyes softened.
She slowly raised her hand, using what little strength remained, and touched his cheek.
Adrian leaned into her palm.
"Mom..."
Her fingers trembled against his face.
"I love you," she whispered.
Adrian's tears finally spilled over.
"I love you too," he cried softly.
Sophia stared at him.
There was so much love in her eyes.
So much sadness.
And something else Adrian couldn't understand.
Her hand slowly slipped from his cheek.
Adrian immediately grabbed it.
"Mom?"
Sophia's eyes fluttered.
"Mom?"
Her breathing became weaker.
"Mom, wake up."
The monitor beside the bed changed rhythm.
Adrian looked at it.
Then at his mother.
His heart began pounding.
"Mom?"
The door suddenly opened.
Two nurses rushed inside.
Adrian stood abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor.
"What happened?" he asked fearfully.
Nobody answered him.
The nurses moved around the bed.
A doctor entered moments later.
Adrian backed away, his frightened eyes moving from one adult to another.
"What's wrong with my mom?" he demanded, his voice trembling with fear.
Still no one answered.
"Tell me what's wrong with her!" he cried desperately.
A nurse gently tried to move him away from the bed.
"Adrian, you need to step back."
"No!" he protested angrily, tears streaming down his face. "That's my mom!"
"Adrian..."
"Don't touch me!" he shouted, pulling his arm away.
He stared at his mother.
"Mom!"
The adults continued working.
Adrian couldn't understand what they were doing.
He couldn't understand why everyone suddenly looked so serious.
He couldn't understand why nobody was answering him.
He stood there helplessly.
And for the first time in his life, Adrian realized there were things even his father's money couldn't fix.
Things even the Moretti name couldn't control.
He looked toward the door.
"Papa..."
His voice was barely audible.
"Where are you?"
But Vincent wasn't there.
Adrian waited.
He waited for the door to open.
He waited for his father to appear.
He waited for someone to tell him everything was going to be okay.
But no one came.
Eventually, the movement around the bed stopped.
The room became quiet.
Too quiet.
A nurse approached him slowly.
Her expression was gentle, but Adrian didn't like it.
He didn't like the way she was looking at him.
"Adrian..."
He shook his head.
"No."
The nurse stopped.
Adrian's face crumpled.
"No," he repeated, his voice trembling. "She's just sleeping."
The nurse's eyes filled with sadness.
"Adrian..."
"She's sleeping," he insisted, louder this time.
His voice cracked.
"She told me she was going to get better."
No one corrected him.
That silence told him everything.
Adrian stared at the bed.
His mother was gone.
Just like that.
His world had changed.
And his father hadn't been there to see it happen.
---
Hours passed.
The hospital corridor was almost empty.
Adrian sat alone on one of the chairs outside the room.
His knees were pulled close to his chest.
His hands rested between them.
His eyes were swollen from crying, but he refused to shed another tear.
He felt empty.
Not sad.
Not angry.
Just empty.
He stared at the floor.
Every now and then, he looked toward the room.
He couldn't bring himself to go inside again.
He was afraid that if he did, he'd see the empty bed.
And if he saw the empty bed, he'd have to accept that his mother was really gone.
He didn't want to accept it.
He couldn't.
His father still hadn't come.
Adrian's sadness slowly transformed into anger.
He clenched his fists.
He had needed him.
Why hadn't he come?
Why was work always more important?
Why was everything always more important?
He heard footsteps.
Slow.
Heavy.
Familiar.
Adrian's head lifted.
Vincent Moretti stood at the end of the hallway.
Adrian stared at him.
His father was still dressed in his expensive black suit.
His expression was unreadable.
For several seconds, neither of them spoke.
Adrian waited.
He waited for his father to run toward him.
He waited for him to kneel down.
He waited for him to ask if he was okay.
He waited for him to say something about Sophia.
Anything.
Vincent finally approached.
"Adrian," he said quietly, his voice controlled and restrained.
Adrian immediately stood.
His eyes were burning with anger.
"Where were you?" he asked bitterly.
Vincenzo stopped.
"I was working," he answered calmly.
Adrian stared at him in disbelief.
"Mom died."
"I know," Vincent replied, his voice low.
"You weren't here."
"I couldn't get here in time."
"You weren't here!" Adrian shouted, his voice cracking with grief and anger.
Vincent's jaw tightened.
"Adrian."
"You weren't here when she needed you!"
"I said I couldn't get here."
Adrian laughed bitterly through his tears.
"You always say that."
Vincent said nothing.
"You always have somewhere to go," Adrian continued, his voice shaking. "There's always work. There's always a meeting. There's always something more important."
"That's enough."
"No!" Adrian shouted, his anger overpowering his fear. "It's not enough!"
Vincent's expression hardened.
Adrian stepped closer.
"She waited for you."
His voice became quieter.
"She kept looking at the door."
Vincent looked away.
Adrian noticed.
"You knew she was going to die, didn't you?"
Vincent's eyes returned to him.
"Adrian..."
"You knew!"
His father's silence hurt more than an answer.
Adrian's tears returned.
"Why didn't you come?"
Vincent looked at his son.
For the first time, the man's expression showed something resembling pain.
But it lasted only a moment.
"We're leaving," he said.
Adrian blinked.
"What?"
"We're moving."
Adrian stared at him, unable to process the words.
"Moving where?"
"Another city."
Adrian's expression twisted in confusion.
"Why?"
"Because I said so."
His voice was firm.
Adrian shook his head.
"No."
Vincent stared at him.
"You'll be changing schools."
Adrian's eyes widened.
"What?"
"You heard me."
"No!" Adrian shouted immediately.
His father remained calm.
"This isn't a discussion."
"I don't want to move!"
"You don't have a choice."
"I just lost my mom!"
"I know."
"Then why are you talking about school?"
"Because we can't stay here."
Adrian's breathing became heavier.
"Why not?"
Vincent didn't answer.
"Why?" Adrian demanded, his voice filled with frustration. "Why do we have to leave?"
"Because it's necessary."
"For what?"
"Adrian."
"Tell me!" His father stared at him. "There are things you don't understand."
Adrian laughed bitterly.
"I'm ten, not stupid!" Adrian fired
Vincent's expression tightened. "Get your things." He irdered. Adrian stared at him, all he felt was bitterness towards his father, he couldn't believe he was a son to this man. Something inside him broke. Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just quietly. The kind of break nobody noticed. "You don't even care," Adrian whispered.
Vincent's eyes narrowed slightly.
"That's not true."
"You don't care about Mom." He fired at him. "Don't say that." He told him. "You weren't there!" He accused "I said I was working." He said and this irritated Adrian
"Is work more important than Mom?, Mom died alone, you weren't there for her!" The words echoed through the hallway. Vincent went silent. Adrian's chest heaved. His face was wet with tears. "I needed you," he whispered. His father's expression shifted. Adrian continued, his voice trembling. "I needed you to come."
Vincent looked at his son but didn't respond. Adrian wiped his tears angrily. "I hate you." He said amidst tears The words came out before he could stop them. Vincent's face became unreadable. Adrian immediately looked away. He regretted saying it. But he was too angry to take it back. "Get your things," Vincent repeated, his voice quieter this time.
Adrian looked toward the hospital room. He wished he could go back to holding her hands. He wished he could hold his mother's hand again. He wished he could hear her voice again. He wished he could hear her tell him that he was her brave boy. Most of all, he wished he had been born into another family. A normal family. A family where fathers came home for dinner. Where mothers didn't die alone.
Where children didn't have to understand things they were too young to understand. A family where love wasn't hidden behind silence and expensive suits. A family where nobody had to leave immediately after losing someone they loved. But wishing wouldn't change anything. The deed had already been done. His mother was gone. His father remained. And Adrian Moretti had no choice but to follow him. That night, he sat in the backseat of his father's black car, staring through the window.
The city lights blurred behind his tears.
The hospital disappeared slowly behind them. Adrian kept looking back until it was no longer visible. He wondered if his mother was still somewhere inside those walls. He knew she wasn't. But a part of him still hoped she was. His hands curled into fists. He didn't cry anymore.
He simply stared ahead.
His father sat in the front seat, silent.
Adrian didn't look at him.
He didn't want to.
He was angry.
He was hurt.
He was confused.
And underneath all of it was a loneliness he couldn't explain.
He had lost his mother.
He was losing his home.
And now he was being taken somewhere he didn't want to go.
He pressed his forehead against the cold window.
For the first time, Adrian silently wished he wasn't a Moretti.
He wished he had been born somewhere else.
To different parents.
Into a different life.
He wished his surname didn't carry secrets.
He wished his father wasn't the man everyone feared.
He wished his life could be ordinary.
But wishes were useless.
The deed had already been done.
He was Adrian Moretti.
Son of Vincent Moretti.
The boy who had just lost his mother.
And whether he wanted it or not, he was already being pulled deeper into the world his father had built.
That night, while the city passed silently outside the car window, Adrian made a promise to himself.
He would never become like his father.
He would never let anyone control his life.
He would never depend on anyone.
Not again.
He didn't know then that life had other plans.
He didn't know that years later, at a new school, a quiet girl named Elena Bennett would walk into his life. He didn't know that she would be the first person to look past his surname. He didn't know that she would become the person he trusted most.
And he certainly didn't know that she would eventually become the one person capable of breaking every promise he'd made that night.
But for now, Adrian only had one thought.
He wished he had never been born a Moretti.