39. Leah
Chapter thirty-nine
Leah
The stillness of the Caldwell Estate feelseerie, like a prologue to the rest of the evening, and I’m hoping thateverything I’ve set up in Rome will go as planned. I’ve decided I don’t likeLondon, but we’re here to do business. Well, Silas is.
Kane and Silas went golfing to finalize theterms of the deal, and as I stroll around the estate in my dress and hat, Imiss him.
Over the last two days, he’s been doingeverything he can to be focused and engaged. But I notice the abrupt tightnessof his jaw and the unmistakable faraway look in his eyes. It’s been six yearssince Ezra’s death, and I know Rome’s the last place Silas wants to be.
Soon enough, he’ll be back in Rome—the placethat holds his most painful memories. I intend to do what I couldn’t all thoseyears ago, and that’s make this easier for him.
If helets me.
When he returns from golfing with Kane, I takea deep breath, gripping his arm as we walk around. Kane goes to find Tamara,muttering something about how he hates being away from her for too long.
“Did the talk go well?”
Silas nods. “I got it.”
“You did?” I beam.
“I did, darling.” He pulls me close and kissesme. “I got what I wanted.”
We stay in each other’s arms for a littlelonger before I pull away. “I have a surprise for you.”
I lead him to the clearing he led me all thoseweeks ago in London. And just like him? I have a plane waiting. The shadowsmake the small plane I rented almost glow under the faint light. Caleb standsby, shuffling from foot to foot, giving me a quick grin as I pull Silas towardit.
“Leah,” Silas says, his voice low and slightlyconfused. “What’s going on?”
I give him what I hope is a reassuring smile.“Just trust me. You took me flying—let me take you on one for a change.”
He raises a skeptical eyebrow, his eyessoftening as they search mine. “And you’re sure about this? I remember someonehaving a little fear of flying.”
I laugh, though my heart is pounding. “Thanksto you, I’m over that. Besides, it’s my turn to surprise you for once.”
“At least you’re not the one flying it,” heteases, and I punch him jokingly. “You’re in on this too, Caleb?”
He shrugs. “Of course I am. What would youguys do without me?”
“The kid’s right.” I nod.
We board, and as the plane lifts off, I feelthe weight of the upcoming moment settling in. Silas is relaxed at first,leaning back, his arm draped around Caleb, who’s scrolling through some videoon his phone. I steal a glance at Silas every few minutes, mentally rehearsinghow I will reveal everything.
This hasto go perfectly.
As we descend in two hours, the Roman skylineglimmers in the distance, and Silas’s expression shifts. His eyes darken, andthe set of his jaw hardens. I reach for his hand, threading my fingers throughhis.
“Silas,” I murmur, “just trust me.”
We land just as the sun dips below thehorizon, casting a soft glow over the tarmac. The warmth of the Roman air wrapsaround us as we step off the plane, and I can see Silas’s guard going up again,his brows knitting together.
“Leah,” he says, his voice a low rumble,almost a warning. “Why are we here? I don’t wanna—”
I squeeze his hand, offering him a gentlesmile. “You’ll see soon enough.”
The car waiting for us pulls up, and Caleb andI exchange a look. Silas’s fingers twitch in my grip as we drive, and I don’tlet go. Not once. He doesn’t push me for answers, but his radiating tensionfills our silence. The night air smells faintly of jasmine as we finally stopnear the museum where Ezra’s life had ended.
When we descend from the car, and Silasrealizes where we are, he stops, his face paling. “Leah . . .” he says, pullinghis hand back from mine. “What are you playing at? Whatever this is, it’s notfunny. I—"
“Just wait, Silas,” I whisper, trying to keepmy voice steady. “Please.”
Across the street, a group of people waits,holding small Japanese lanterns that flicker softly in the growingdarkness—familiar faces: friends, cast members, and crew who’d worked on Ezra’slast film. I can see the emotion building in Silas’s eyes, even though he’sfighting it, his gaze fixed on the ground.
“I thought . . . you should have a chance tosay goodbye,” I say softly, stepping closer. “The way you never got to.”
He shakes his head, pressing his lips tightlytogether. “I can’t do this, Leah. I don’t want this.” He turns away, but I stepbefore him, my hands on his chest.
“Silas, please,” I say, my voice trembling.“These people; they’re here to honor him. They loved him, too. And you? Youdeserve to grieve. To let go.”
One by one, his friends and Ezra’s formercastmates step forward, lighting their lanterns, and sharing quiet stories ofEzra. Each voice is tender, the memories vivid and heartfelt, painting apicture of Ezra as he was—a bright, joyful spirit who’d brought so muchlaughter into the world.
Cassian holds his lantern high, looking overat Silas. “Hey, man.”
“You’re supposed to be in D.C.”
“I told you I’d never been to Rome. So, whenLeah called and asked if I could make it . . .” He shrugs and smiles. “We nevergot a chance to say goodbye, Silas. Not really.”
Cassianturns around to face the crowd. “Ezra taught me to laugh through the hardtimes,” he says, his voice thick with emotion. “No matter how tough things got,he’d find a way to make us smile. I’ll never forget that. He was the bestfriend I ever had.” He shakes his head. “No, that’s not doing him justice. Hewas my brother. We fought together, laughed together, and one day, I’ll see himagain.”
He releases his lantern. “But till then, Ezra,rest easy, brother.”
One by one, each person releases theirlantern, watching as the tiny points of light drift upward into the darkeningsky. Silas stands frozen, his arms crossed tightly over his chest, his gazelocked on the flickering lights above.
I reach for my own lantern, holding itcarefully as I step before Silas. “I didn’t know Ezra,” I begin, my voicequiet, “but in a way, he brought us together. You came to Rome because of him.And because of him, I got to meet you.”
Silas’s eyes meet mine, and I feel the weightof his pain, regret, and everything he’s held in for so long.
I place my hand over my stomach, feeling awave of warmth and gratitude. “And because of him, this little one exists.” Ipause, swallowing back tears. “Even though he’s gone, Ezra left a legacy,Silas. He lives on through you, through everyone here who loved him, andthrough the family we’re building.”
Silas’s face crumples, and he looks away, hisshoulders shaking as he takes in the words. His hand lifts to cover his mouth,but I reach out, touching his arm gently, grounding him.
“Leah,” he whispers, his voice raw. “I’ve beenliving with this guilt, every day, every night, feeling like I failed him. LikeI could have done something to save him.”
He stares down at the lantern in his hand, hisjaw clenched as he fights back tears. “I wish I could see him again,” he says,his voice breaking. “Just one more time. To tell him how much I love him, howproud I am of him.”
My own tears spill over as I listen, and Calebsteps forward, slipping his tiny hand into Silas’s. Silas looks down, startled,as Caleb gives him a gentle, reassuring squeeze.
“I think he knows, Dad,” Caleb says softly.
Cassian steps forward, his eyes moist. “Ithink wherever he is, he knows.”
The words hit Silas like a wave, and hestumbles, his grip on the lantern tightening. I take a step closer, wrapping myarms around him as he lets out a shuddering breath, finally allowing himself tofeel the full weight of his grief.
Together, we light the lantern, our handsintertwined as we hold it up. Silas’s face is wet with tears, his eyesglistening as he looks up at the tiny flame dancing within the lantern.
With a deep, steadying breath, he releases it,watching as it floats upward, joining the others in the sky. We stand together,watching in silence, our hands clasped tightly as the lanterns drift higher andhigher, their soft glow mingling with the stars.
Silas pulls me close, his lips brushing myforehead as he whispers, “Thank you, Leah. For everything.”
I smile, reaching up to cup his face, my thumbbrushing his cheek. “I love you, Silas. With all my heart.”
Caleb wraps his arms around us both, his headresting against Silas’s shoulder. “I love you guys,” he murmurs, surprising usboth with the quiet confession.
“Who are you, and what have you done withCaleb?” Silas chuckles as Caleb beams.
We stand there, the three of us, a family,watching the lanterns float away. And for the first time, I feel the weight ofthe past lifting, leaving us free to look forward—to new memories, newbeginnings, and a future filled with hope.
I canonly hope Ezra is looking down on us and smiling.