The confusion. The hurt. The betrayal. The desperate need to understand.
And underneath it all—the question she can't ask out loud.
How can I trust you after this?
I don't have an answer.
I don't know if I ever will.
Marina
The room empties slowly.
Sophia and Lorenzo leave first. She won't let go of him. Her fingers dig into his arm like she's afraid he'll disappear if she loosens her grip.
I understand.
I understand more than I want to.
Bruno follows them out. He doesn't look at Dante. Doesn't speak. Just walks past with his jaw set and his fists still clenched.
Antonella touches his arm as they pass through the doorway. A gentle reminder. A silent plea.
Not now.
The others file out one by one. Nico and Kristen. Pietro and Nora. Aria, still pale, supported by Valentino and Carmela.
They murmur goodbyes. Squeeze shoulders. Exchange glances heavy with questions no one will ask tonight.
And then they're gone.
The dining room falls silent.
Dante stands where he was. He hasn't moved. His hands hang at his sides. His face is carved from stone.
He's waiting.
Waiting for me.
Waiting for me to speak.
I push back from the table. The chair scrapes against the floor. The sound echoes in the empty room.
My legs feel unsteady as I walk toward him. My heart pounds against my ribs.
I stop in front of him.
Close enough to see the shadows under his eyes. The tension in his jaw. The way his chest rises and falls with each breath.
He looks at me.
Those dark eyes. The ones that saw me before I was ready to be seen.
They're empty now.
Hollow.
Like he's already accepted what's coming.
