“When my mother was diagnosed with ALS, she was still able to travel, so we moved back to just outside of London. She was originally from here, so it made sense to come back.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and turned to look at me. “She lived with me for about a year, but eventually she needed more care. I offered to bring a nurse in, but she didn’t want that. She worried she wouldn’tsee anyone besides me and her nurse for the rest of her life.” He stared out the window briefly before returning his gaze to me. “So, we found this place. She loves it as much as you can love a care home.”
I nodded in understanding. After we’d been buzzed in through the gates, we were greeted with a long, paved drive illuminated by hundreds of small lamps and towering trees lining each side, which led to a massive two-story building with at least fifty rooms. The reception entrance was bathed in a soft glow and held a certain inviting charm.
Luca scanned the front of the building as I asked him, “Do you think you’ll film again after you’ve doneDirty Dancing?”
He shook his head and moved to climb out of the car. “I don’t love it anymore. I used to love acting, but now I can’t look past everything that comes with it. Although, seeing how happy my mom is to see me on TV again does make me want to consider continuing.”
Listening to him made me realize that he prioritized his happiness over anything other than his mother’s. And maybe Jack’s.
Instead of heading straight in, I gently touched his upper arm, halting his movement.
“Thank you again for coming to get me,” I said.
“I’m glad you called.” He tucked a loose strand of hair behind my ear before dropping his hand quickly. He gestured to the building, and I followed him up the stairs to the main reception. We handed over our IDs and signedin.
Luca guided me through the hallways, where the soft lighting cast a warm glow across the polished wooden floors.
“My mother’s room is up here,” he said, pointing ahead. I’d been so consumed by my thoughts of dinner that it had literally just hit me that I was meetingLuca’s mother—with tearstained, red-rimmed eyes, no less. My eyes darted around the hallway,looking for a bathroom sign. Coming up short, I settled for running my fingers through my hair and quickly swiping under my eyes in case any mascara was smudged there.
He nudged the door with his arm and said, “Hi, Mom, I’m back.”
Given the grandeur of the rest of the home, I shouldn’t have been surprised at the size of the room, but I was. Beautiful landscape artworks covered the walls, alongside a large flat-screen TV and a few photographs of Luca, his mother, and an older couple.
Luca’s mother sat in a plush armchair upholstered in a rich fabric. She looked exactly how I’d imagined: beautiful, ageless, and kind. Her dark, slightly graying hair brushed her shoulders, and a warm smile stretched across her tanned face when she spotted herson.
“Oh Luca, how was she—” His mum paused, spotting me as I stepped out from behind him. Her face bloomed into a wider smile, and she opened her arms. “Oh my, Matilda!”
Luca leaned down and kissed her cheek softly. I followed, and she sat forward and pulled me into a hug. It was warm and grounding, like she knew exactly how much I needed it. I breathed in the faint scent of her—lavender and fresh cotton. She squeezed me tight for a moment and my heart swelled with gratitude.
“Sorry for intruding.” I stood back, fiddling with the ends of my hair. “I didn’t realize Luca was visiting you; otherwise, I wouldn’t have called him.”
“Don’t be silly, sweetheart. He visits me too much as it is; I’ve been telling him he needs to get out more.” Her quiet voice danced with loving humor as her gaze flickered to him. “I’m Rosie, by the way.”
“Don’t embarrass me, Mom. Matilda thinks I have a busy schedule attending important meetings and visiting countless friends.”
Our light laughter echoed around the room, and I continued. “Well, thank you for loaning him out to me for the past few months.” I decided to offer her the truth, as Luca encouraged me to do. “Even if he was a pain in my arse at the start.”
A smile played at the corner of his lips. Rosie’s gaze shifted between us, her face softening with laughter.
“Why doesn’t that surprise me one bit? Please, tell me more.” We sat in the armchairs opposite hers, sinking into the deep, comfortable cushions.
I ignored my vibrating phone as we launched into stories from the show. We avoided the subject of what was going onnowbetween us, but it was obvious that he’d told her what had happened to some extent. She peppered us with questions on how training was going and how we felt about making it this far in the competition.
Watching Luca interact with his mum was heartwarming; I’d never seen him so relaxed. However, I realized that over the past two months, since the press event, I’d started to see more of the man who sat in front of me—hints of who he was when he trusted the person he was with.
I eventually got fed up with my phone buzzing nonstop, so I pulled it out to turn it off, already knowing who was blowing it up. I had a few missed texts from my mother, a few missed calls from my sister, but unsurprisingly nothing from mydad.
“Everything OK?” Luca asked when I powered off my phone.
“Yeah, all good.” I smiled.
“I’m going to grab Mum a tea quickly, then. I’ll be right back.” He gently squeezed my shoulder as he exited the room.
“Is everything OK, lovely?” Rosie asked.
“Just stuff with family,” I answered but changed the subject, not wanting to bore her with my drama. “You and Luca seem so close.”
Their bond was almost palpable—from their shared glancesand easy smiles to how she’d instinctively brushed the stray lock of hair from his forehead when they were talking. I couldn’t remember when my mother had done anything like that forme.
