I spin around. Leon is sitting up in bed, rubbing his eyes.
“Everything’s all right, baby.” My voice comes out too high, too loud. I force it lower and calmer. “Just checking the weather. Go back to sleep.”
I give Leon a drink of water when he asks for it, but I’m haunted by what I just saw. The longing to go out there to Cristiano and beg him to stop killing himself is rising within me, stronger with every passing moment.
I force myself to sit on the edge of the mattress and smooth Leon’s hair back from his forehead.
“How are you feeling, sweetheart? Does anything hurt?”
“I’m okay.” He yawns. “My tummy’s a little sore but not too bad.”
“Good. That’s good.” I keep stroking his hair, needing the contact, needing to ground myself in something real and safe.
Leon looks up at me with those amber eyes. Cristiano’s eyes.
“Mama? When is Cristiano coming to see me?”
The question goes straight through me like electricity, and I have to fight to keep my breath even.
He’d be our page boy. He’d take it so seriously. He’d practice for weeks.
The wedding Cristiano and I dreamed up together comes rushing back. Leon in his little suit, Cristiano’s eyes shining with pride as he watches our son. The family we were going to be.
“I don’t know, baby. He’s a busy man.”
I feel terrible for lying to my son, but I don’t know what else to say. If he sees Cristiano standing outside on the street, how can I explain why any of this is happening?
“I miss him.” Leon’s voice is small. “He said we were both tough.”
My throat tightens. “You are tough. The toughest.”
“Did you see that Cristiano has eyes just like mine?” Leon’s face brightens with the realization. “And that lady who lives here does too. The pretty woman with gold hair.”
My heart is pounding now as Leon puts things together. My observant son is seeing the patterns and making connections. “That’s Adora Vici. This is her house.”
“She looks like Cristiano, don’t you think? They have the same eyes. And the same noses. Are they brother and sister?”
“Yes, they are.” I lean down and kiss his forehead. “Are you hungry? Would you like pancakes for dinner?”
The distraction works. Leon’s eyes light up. “With chocolate chips?”
“I can ask.” I stand, relieved to have steered the conversation away from Cristiano for now.
I will tell Leon everything one day. The truth about who his father is can’t stay secret forever, but right now, all I can think about is surviving.
I head downstairs, my mind still reeling. I can’t stop thinking about Cristiano standing in the rain, looking like he’s dying, and my son asking when his father is coming to see him.
The kitchen is warm and bright, a stark contrast to the gray weather outside. Adora and Sofia are sitting at the table, chatting over coffee, their manner casual and comfortable. They look up when I enter.
“Mina,” Adora says with a warm smile. “How are you doing?”
“Good, thanks,” I lie. I hover in the doorway, suddenly feeling like an intruder. “I’m so sorry to bother you, but Ipromised Leon pancakes for dinner. I can make them myself if you just show me where—”
“Absolutely not.” Sofia rises from her chair, already moving toward the stove. “You sit down and have some coffee. I’ll make the pancakes.”
“I don’t want to be any trouble.”
“You’re not trouble. You’re family.” Adora pulls out a chair for me. “Sit. Please.”
