Become The Widower's Wife

"**MARRY ME.**" A tall, broad-shouldered young man bent down on one knee, offering a velvet box containing a diamond ring before lifting his gaze to meet the eyes of a beautiful fair-skinned girl with long black hair. She looked back at him, surprised, emotional, yet happy.

"Zio, you're attracting a lot of attention," the girl's descendant said, blushing, her eyes scanning the surroundings.

The man still on one knee glanced around as well, but instead of feeling embarrassed, he shrugged nonchalantly, refocusing his attention on the girl, his eyes filled with hope.

"I love you deeply, Gretta. Will you marry me? Spend the rest of your life with me?"

The girl bit her lower lip, her eyes teary. With unwavering conviction, she nodded her head.

"Yes. Yes, Zio!" she exclaimed loudly, causing everyone witnessing the scene to cheer along.

Ignazio smiled widely. He rose from his position and stood before his beloved. Happiness radiated from his face as his fingers took the diamond-studded ring from its box and placed it on the finger of the woman he adored.

"I promise to always love you. To be the man who will protect and make you happy," he vowed solemnly.

Gretta simply looked at him and nodded. She was confident that the man proposing to her would keep his promise. Even if Gretta asked for the world and everything in it, she believed Ignazio would give it to her.

Gretta embraced Ignazio tightly, her overflowing emotions finding release, and Ignazio reciprocated the hug just as tightly. Finally, after two years of struggle, his efforts had borne fruit. Gretta, the girl who had captured his heart from their very first meeting, had finally accepted Ignazio's love with few conditions. In that moment, Ignazio envisioned their future together, a life filled with happiness.

**THE HOSPITAL CORRIDOR** appeared deserted. Some corridors only had dim lights as the patients were already lost in their own slumber. Meanwhile, in other corridors, the lights were still shining brightly, and a few people were gathered, feeling anxious and afraid.

Ignazio, a thirty-one-year-old man, paced back and forth outside the operating room where his wife was undergoing childbirth. Occasionally, he wiped his face and roughly ran his fingers through his hair out of frustration.

The doctor had forbidden him from entering and accompanying his wife during the operation at her request, which made Ignazio incredibly emotional. He wanted to curse. He wanted to damn someone. But he knew that all of that would be utterly useless. Even his parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins who tried to console him were ignored.

Ignazio didn't care whether the baby would come out safely or not. No! He didn't care about that. What he cared about was whether his wife would s