Luca turned around and found his father, Michael, standing right behind him in the hospital corridor.
"Dad," he whispered, the exhaustion finally catching up to his voice.
Michael didn't hesitate. He stepped forward and pulled his son into a warm hug. It had been years since they had last shared a moment like this, probably since Luca was a young boy, long before the harsh realities of their world had built walls between them.
Michael patted his back before rubbing it in steady, comforting circles. "There, my boy. Everything is fine," he whispered into the silence.
After a long moment, Luca pulled away, clearing his throat to steady himself. "Dad, why are you here? You should be back at the house with Mom—"
"I couldn't leave my son in this state," Michael interrupted gently. He checked his watch and then looked back up at Luca. "Fabio is here, so let's go out to the garden. We need to talk."
