The door closed behind him.
I stood in the practice room, holding that drawing. Those crooked lines blurred in front of me, then cleared, then blurred again. The pink crayon dress Juliet drew for the woman, the green crayon she used for her own eyes, how long had she worked on this? What was she thinking while she drew? Was she smiling while she drew, thinking about showing it to me the next day?
I took a deep breath, folded the drawing, and tucked it into my teaching bag.
Walking out of that house, the night wind hit me, cold. I stood on the steps, looking down at my feet. That drawing was in my bag, so light, but so heavy I could barely carry it.
I walked down the steps and headed toward the subway station. After about twenty steps, I stopped, turned around, and looked back at the house.
A light was on in a second-floor hallway window, curtains not quite closed, showing a narrow gap. I didn't know if he was behind that window, but I knew he was waiting for my answer.
I turned and kept walking toward the subway.
After a while, I pulled out my phone and sent Ella a message.
"He wants me to come to Juliet's birthday."
Ella replied instantly with a question mark.
"You said yes?"
"Yeah."
"Olivia, someday you're going to fall and shatter into pieces."
I shoved my phone back in my pocket and looked up at the sky.
Ella was right. Everything I was doing now was pushing myself toward the edge of a cliff.
But I was out of options.
Chapter Nineteen
Ezio
Saturday morning at seven, I stood in my walk-in closet, staring at a whole wall of shirts, and realized I had no idea which one to pick.
Black was too severe, white too deliberate, gray... I stared at that light gray casual shirt for five seconds, pulled it down, and hung it back up. Too much like going to a meeting.
Carmen stood in the doorway, holding a cup of coffee, watching me with an expression I'd never seen before. She'd worked for us three years, seen me cut through business deals like a blade, seen me drinking alone in my study at three a.m. But she'd probably never seen me standing in my closet, agonizing over what to wear.
"Sir," she finally spoke, her voice hiding a trace of laughter, "need help?"
"No."
I chose a navy polo, collar just exposing my collarbone, paired with charcoal slacks. Not formal, not casual. I checked the mirror, rolled up the sleeves twice, showing my forearms.
Carmen's mouth twitched.
"Is the car ready?" I asked.
"Ready. Miss is already eating breakfast, very excited."
I nodded and headed downstairs.
Juliet sat at the dining table in a pink dress with tiny flowers, hair in two braids tied with matching ribbons. Her stuffed rabbit was tucked under her arm, ears dangling and bouncing.
"Daddy!" She jumped off her chair when she saw me. "When's Vivi coming?"
