Bianca scoffs. “Is that supposed to make me feel better?” She stands abruptly, pacing to the window.
I watch as the morning sun streams, bathing her in light. “Giovanni looked so confused when I wouldn’t talk to him properly. And Bella… God, Bella’s never done anything but try to be a good stepmother to me.”
I watch her struggle with this, recognizing the internal war between her anger at Matteo and her conscience about collateral damage.
“So what are you going to do about it?” I ask. While I understand that she may be feeling guilty, I don’t understand dwelling on it. If Bianca feels a certain way, she needs to take action.
“I don’t know.” She wraps her arms around herself, suddenly looking very young. “I can’t just go back and pretend nothinghappened. But I also can’t live with myself knowing I hurt people who don’t deserve it.”
“You could start by having a conversation with the person at the center of all this.”
She turns to face me, wariness creeping into her expression. “You think I should talk to Matteo.”
“I think you’re torturing yourself over a situation that can’t be resolved by avoiding it.” I stand, moving closer to her. “And I think the guilt you’re carrying about hurting innocent people is going to eat you alive unless you find a way to address it.”
She scoffs and turns away. “It’s not that simple?—”
“Isn’t it?” I challenge gently. “You’re angry at Matteo for lying to you. But that anger led you to hurt Bella and the twins, and now you feel guilty about that. The only way to fix the second problem is to address the first one.”
She’s quiet for a long moment, staring out at the city.
“I don’t know how to face him,” she admits finally. “I said terrible things. I compared him to Mario, Alessandro. I told him he never really loved me.”
“We all say terrible things when we’re angry,” I comment gently. “Do you believe that?”
“Believe what?”
“That Matteo never really loved you.”
“No.” The word comes out small, barely audible. “That’s what makes it worse. I know he loves me. I know he’s been a good father. But I was so angry about the lie that I wanted to hurt him, and I said the cruelest things I could think of.”
“Then maybe it’s time to have a different conversation.” I come up behind her and wrap my arms around her waist. She immediately leans into me. “One that’s not about hurting each other.”
She looks at me, vulnerability written across her face. “Will you help? I don’t think I can do it alone.”
I press a kiss to her head. “Of course.”
An hour later, I’m making a phone call I never thought I’d make.
“Alessandro?” Matteo’s voice is carefully controlled, but I can hear the underlying exhaustion. “Is everything alright? Is Bianca?—”
“She’s fine,” I say quickly. “She’s safe. But she wants to meet with you.”
The silence that follows is so long I wonder if the line went dead.
“She…she wants to see me?” The hope in his voice is painful to hear.
“She’s been struggling with how things ended between you. With some of the things she said.” I choose my words carefully. “She’s ready to have a real conversation. No accusations, no cruelty. Just…talking.”
I can hear Matteo’s chair creak as he leans forward. “When?”
So much hope poured into one single word.
“This afternoon, if you’re available. At your place, if that’s okay. Neutral territory feels too formal for this.”
“Of course,” Matteo breathes. “Whatever she needs. Whatever she wants.” He pauses. “Alessandro? Thank you. For whatever you said to her, for helping her get to this point—thank you.”
I wince as I sit down. “Don’t thank me yet. This isn’t going to be easy for either of you.”
