By the time we landed in Azerbaijan, all I wanted was sleep. Gianna had been fussy the entire flight, which meant hours of trying to comfort her while she cried inconsolably. Matteo and Alexander had flown ahead on an ungodly early flight, leaving me to manage Gia alone. But it also meant Alex let me take his private jet. Thankfully, Nicola had offered to come with me so I wouldn’t have to face the ordeal by myself. Between that and not having to deal with a commercial flight and other people, it was a godsend.
As we stepped off the plane, Gia was finally asleep in my arms, her little head tucked against my shoulder, her cheeks still damp from earlier tears. Nicola trailed behind us, juggling our bags with careful precision. The last thing either of us wanted was to wake Gia now that the storm had passed.
As we made our way through the quiet airport terminal, Nicola glanced over at me, her expression calm despite the whirlwind of the last few hours. “You’re doing amazing, Lucia,” she said softly, her voice a steady presence in the haze of my exhaustion.
I gave her a weary smile. “I don’t feel amazing. I feel like I’ve been put through a blender. Thank you for coming with me, though. I don’t know what I would’ve done on my own.”
Nicola shrugged as if it were nothing, though the kindness in her eyes said otherwise. “It’s no trouble. Gia’s a sweetheart, even when she’s having a rough time. And you? You’re stronger than you think.”
I let out a tired laugh, careful not to jostle Gia. “Strong doesn’t feel like the right word. I feel more like…duct tape. Holding it all together by sheer force and praying nothing falls apart.”
Nicola stopped walking for a moment and placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “Lucia, listen to me. You’re an incredible mother. You’re doing everything you can for Gia, and it shows. She’s happy and loved, even when she’s cranky. You’re not just holding it together; you’re thriving in the chaos. And you’re not alone. You’ve got me, Matteo, Alexander—everyone who cares about you.”
Her words hit hard, I felt the sting of tears behind my eyes. The weight of everything—the flight, Gia’s crying, the constant balancing act of being a mom—felt just a little lighter.
“Thanks, Nicola,” I said, my voice soft. “I mean it. You didn’t have to do this, but I’m really glad you’re here.”
She smiled, stepping back to pick up the bags again. “Of course I’m here. What kind of friend would I be if I let you handle all this alone? Now, let’s get you and Gia to the hotel. You both need some rest, and I’m pretty sure I saw Matteo order extra snacks to your room. He’s predictable like that.”
A small laugh slipped out despite my exhaustion. Nicola always had a way of diffusing the tension, of making things feel manageable even when they weren’t. As we stepped into the car waiting outside, Gia still asleep in my arms, I finally allowed myself to exhale. For the first time in hours, I felt a semblance of calm.
Once we got to the hotel, things finally settled. Gia had a snack, we played for a little while, and then she went down for a much-needed nap. As soon as I shut the bedroom door, I wandered into the smaller living space and collapsed onto the couch, letting out a sigh of pure exhaustion.
My phone pinged with a message from Nicola that read,Open the door.
Dragging myself up, I shuffled over and pulled it open to find her standing there, looking refreshed and far too energetic for someone who’d just survived the same trip I had.
“Hey,” I greeted, my voice tired but grateful.
“Hey,” she replied, stepping inside. “I took a nap, unpacked all my clothes, and now I’m here to hang out with G while she sleeps. You, on the other hand, are going to take a break. Go to the café downstairs, get a coffee, sit in silence for a bit—whatever you need. But go.”
Her tone left no room for argument, and honestly, I didn’t have the energy to resist even if I wanted to.
“You’re a lifesaver,” I mumbled, grabbing my bag.
“Yes, I am. Now go before Gia wakes up and I change my mind.”
I laughed lightly, already feeling a weight lifting off my shoulders as I stepped out the door. I hadn’t had the chance to shower or freshen up after the flight, but honestly, I didn’t have the energy to care; sometimes not feeling trapped in a room was just what I needed. I walked until I found a couch with a little lamp and side table, and I decided that was good enough. A large bay window looked out and I pulled out my Kindle from my purse and I sat like that for an hour.
“Luce?” a familiar voice cut through the silent hallway.
“Hey!” I said, seeing Alexander. He was dressed to the nines, a baby blue knitted sweater and cargo pants that I swear no one except Alexander Wright could pull off. I realized I might have been ogling him a little too long once he cleared his throat.
“Sorry, um, tough day,” I explained, coming back to reality.
A crease at his eyebrow appeared. “You okay?”
“Yeah, I’m fine!” I said, my voice pitching at the end, and I could tell by the way he looked at me that he was not buying it at all.
“You hungry?” he asked.
“I could eat.”
“Come on.” He held out a hand. I went to reach for it and was stopped by a big yawn taking over me. After the pause, I took his hand and he pulled it into the crook of his arm. Alexander led me through the maze of hallways until we reached a dimly lit lounge tucked away from the rest of the hotel. The space was stunning—candles flickered atop dark oak tables, and warm, ambient lighting glowed against the paneled walls. The soft hum of conversation mixed with the gentle clink of silverware and the smooth notes of jazz playing in the background. It felt like stepping into another world.
A host guided us to a booth in the far back corner, a cozy little nook perfect for two. As I slid into the plush seat, Alexander followed, his presence filling the space beside me. The intimacy of the setting wasn’t lost on me—the low light, the quiet buzz of the room—it felt both magical and charged.
He picked up the menu, scanning it with ease, while I stared blankly at mine. The exhaustion from the day hit me like a wave, and the jumble of foreign words on the page was impossible to decipher. My expression must have given me away because Alexander glanced over and gently slid the menu out of my hands.
