“Reading reports isn’t living it,” she said. “It’s not lying awake night after night trying to understand what you did wrong.” Her voice broke. “It’s not surviving day after day while carrying public shame for something you never did.” She swallowed. “It’s not feeling our daughter kick in your belly while you wonder how you’re going to tell her that her father rejected her before she was even born.”
Each word struck like a hammer.
I wanted to look away.
I didn’t deserve the relief.
“I will never be able to forgive myself,” I said, voice heavy, brutal with truth. “And I don’t expect you to forgive me.” My throat tightened. “What I did is unforgivable.”
Valentina wiped a tear quickly, almost angry at herself for letting it fall.
“And what do you plan to do now?” she asked, voice direct. “Besides paying debts and ending Dreamland?”
I held her gaze, feeling the weight of the answer.
“I plan to leave you both in peace,” I said. “As soon as the psychologist says it won’t harm Clara anymore.” My chest tightened painfully. “I’ll make sure you have everything you need, but then I’ll disappear from your lives completely.” I forced the words out. “Because that’s what you deserve.”
I braced for relief.
For rage.
For cold indifference.
Instead, Valentina’s eyes widened and she took a step back like I’d struck her.
“I don’t want that, Enrico,” she said—fast, startled. “I don’t want you to disappear from our lives.”
I stared at her, shocked, my pulse spiking.
“You don’t?” My voice cracked with disbelief. “After everything I did to you—you don’t want me to step away?”
Valentina inhaled, fighting conflicting emotions, looked away for a heartbeat, then met my eyes again with renewed firmness.
“This isn’t about what I want or what you deserve,” she said, voice trembling but steady. “It’s about what’s best for Clara.” Thetruth in her words cut deep. “As much as I hate being forced to live with you right now, I never wanted my daughter to grow up without her father. I never wanted Clara to carry the pain of our mistakes.”
The weight of her generosity crushed me.
“She doesn’t want me,” I said. “You saw her in the hospital. She rejects me.” My throat worked. “And I deserve that.” I swallowed hard. “But you can’t force me to keep causing her pain.”
Valentina exhaled, frustrated, and walked to the window, staring out for a moment before turning back to me.
“She’s a child, Enrico,” she said. “She doesn’t understand everything.” Her voice turned sharper with truth. “All she knows is you made her mother cry, and since you showed up, her life has been confusing and hard.” She held my gaze. “She doesn’t trust you because you’ve never given her a reason to. You haven’t earned that trust.”
The words hit me clean.
A painful, suffocating truth.
I drew in a breath, feeling responsibility settle on my shoulders like a weight I’d never carried before.
“I don’t know if I’m capable,” I admitted quietly. “I don’t know if I deserve it—or if I have the right to earn it after what I did to you and to her.”
Valentina was silent for a moment, then her eyes found mine with a sincerity that left nowhere to hide.
“If you want to be capable,” she said, “you will be.” Her voice was calm but unyielding. “With patience. With care. Withrespect. That’s how you do it.” She shook her head once. “You can’t expect it to change overnight. It won’t.” Her gaze hardened. “You’ll have to prove every day, with every small action, that you deserve to be her father.”
I nodded slowly.
Doubt still lived in my chest.
