They help me up. The attendant hovers awkwardly, clutching a clipboard like a shield.
Valentina offers her a polite smile that manages to sound like a warning. “Send the samples to the penthouse. We’ll review them later.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
I change back into my clothes—jeans, sweater, something that feels like me again—and when I emerge, Valentina’s already handling payment details while Alessia waits by the door.
Her eyes flick to me, assessing. “You good to walk?”
“I think so.”
We step outside. The air hits cold and sharp against my cheeks. The sky’s low, heavy with gray. For a moment, I just stand there, breathing it in. The city moves around us, loud and fast and oblivious.
Valentina links her arm through mine. “Let’s go get something to eat.”
“I’m not hungry.”
“Then let’s get something to drink,” Alessia says. “Wine fixes everything.”
“Except weddings,” Valentina mutters.
Alessia smirks. “Especially weddings.”
We end up in a quiet café a few blocks away, the kind with scratched tables and good coffee. The heat fogs the windows.Valentina orders tea. Alessia orders something with foam and chocolate sprinkles. I just sit there, hands wrapped around a cup I don’t drink from. For a long time, none of us talk.
Finally, Valentina says, “You don’t have to marry him.”
The words hang there, bold and fragile.
I shake my head. “It’s not that simple.”
“It never is,” Alessia says. “But it’s also not impossible.”
“I don’t even know what I want anymore,” I whisper. “I used to. Before.”
Before Nicolo. Before the Castello. Before I learned that wanting something doesn’t mean you get to keep it.
Valentina reaches across the table, her hand steady on mine. “Then start with this. Want peace. Just for now.”
Alessia nods. “The rest will come later.”
I look at them—these women who have loved me enough to stay through the parts I can’t explain—and I manage a small, broken smile. “Okay.”
Valentina’s mouth softens. “Okay.”
The rain starts outside, soft and steady. It runs down the glass like it’s trying to blur the world beyond the window. I watch it fall until everything fades into gray. For the first time in weeks, I let myself cry without hiding it. Not the kind that breaks you open. The kind that empties you out. When it stops, Alessia slides a napkin across the table.
“We’ll figure it out,” she says simply.
And for the first time, I almost believe her.
45
NICOLO
The morning starts with silence and ends with noise. In between, there’s work. There’s always work.
I’m at my desk before sunrise, cigarette burning low in the tray, papers spread out like a map of mistakes waiting to be signed. Numbers blur. The light outside shifts from blue to gold. I don’t notice until my phone buzzes for the third time in ten minutes.
