She waits.
I groan. “I know, I know. Saying it out loud makes it sound stupid. I need her positive energy.”
“So perhaps your homework this week is to give her a call. Maybe even meet in person, if you’re up for it.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Her expression shifts. “How is the anger now that all the men who hurt you are gone? Has it had the effect you wanted?”
I narrow my eyes. “I know you want me to say no. To admit murder isn’t the answer. But… yes. God, yes.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “I’m glad it was the catharsis you needed—however you got there.”
There’s a knock on the office door, then a feminine shout: “You can’t hide from me forever, Isolde Russo!”
“Ah. That’s Noemi. The ignored calls must’ve gotten to her.”
“Speak to you next week,” Doctor Morgan says before the call clicks off.
“I’m coming, don’t be so needy!” I shout back, standing and swinging open the door.
Noemi takes one look at my baggy sweats, oversized top, no makeup, and messy hair. “My god.” She grabs my hand. “Spill it. Now, missy.”
I sigh, raking a hand through my unruly hair. “Come on.”
We head outside and sit on the patio.
“Why haven’t you been returning my calls?” she asks, hurt lacing her tone. “I just wanted to know you were okay after the kidnapping.”
I drop my head to the table, then look up, resting my chin on folded arms. “I lost the baby.”
Other than Enzo and Massimo—and Doctor Morgan, ofcourse—she’s the only person I’ve told. Saying the words out loud is like a gunshot to the stomach, nausea curling inside me.
“Oh, Iz.” Her hand covers mine, stroking gently. “I’m so sorry.”
I lean back in the chair. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. I just… couldn’t. Today’s the first time I’ve opened up about it, even with my therapist.”
“Not even with Enzo?”
“We had a little memorial. Named the baby. That helped.”
She nods, solemn. “It’s going to be okay. You’re so strong.”
We sit and chat for a while, steering away from the heavy stuff. She launches into her latest dating escapades instead.
“Oh! Did I tell you I met that nurse who treated your gunshot wound?”
I shake my head, barely remembering.
Noemi waves a dismissive hand. “Anyway—you’ll never guess what.”
“What?”
“Turns out she’s Gio Santorini’s estranged sister.”
My brows shoot up. “How do you know?”
“She told me, duh.”
