It wasn’t as trivial a thing as getting a new car or a well-deserved promotion, but Tony’s mind was flooded with the same sense of euphoria. A stronger sensation even.
This makes no sense, he thought, as he wove through the midday traffic, the wheels of the Murciélago screeching.
Where had this overwhelmingly sudden burst of emotion come from? And why was it just now rising to the surface?
He’d told Monica not to call. He’d told her he didn’t care.
But yet here he was, barrelling through the streets of Della Cruz, grinning like a maniac.
I’m almost there, he thought. I have to be there.
The salty air lingered in his nostrils, deposited by the cool sea breeze rolling off the Saminara Bay.
Tony was locked in, the scenery fluttering by monotonously. His tunnel vision was only relinquished for a moment, by the families that were littered across the pier.
He allowed himself a quick glance, his gaze resting upon a smiling couple crouching in front of a stroller.
Their image was burned into his mind almost as fast as they disappeared behind him in the distance.
Could I too have something like that one day? he wondered, as his smile cut even deeper into his rugged face.
After arguing with the security guard at the hospital’s front gate for almost a full minute, Tony was granted admission and parked so hastily that he almost hit a wall.
He raced into the lobby, asking all the appropriate personnel which room Monica was in.
He found her in room two on the second floor.
She was surrounded by her family, but they all made way as he entered the room.
Monica was cradling a small white blanket in her arms. “I knew you’d be here,” she said, smiling sweetly. “Come, meet your daughter.”
Tony obliged her silently, peering into the face that peeked out of the blanket.
He smiled warmly, his heart slowly melting. “What’s her name?” he asked.
“Evangeline,” Monica replied. “It means the bearer of good news.”