Chapter 64
SIXTY-FOUR
VALENTINA FERRARA
I was anxious to return to the bakery after weeks away, completely focused on the Institute project. The opening was just three days away, and my chest was a chaotic swirl of emotions.
I shouldn’t even have gone to the bakery—there was still so much to do—and the truth was that Maristela was an incredible manager. Hiring her had been one of the best decisions I’d made in a long time.
She was running the bakery perfectly without me. First because I needed to focus on my daughter, and now because I had the institute.
But that morning, I woke up feeling like I needed the sense of normalcy that only being in the first place that was entirely mine could give me. So I set aside two hours to spend there.
When I opened the shop door, I froze instantly, completely overtaken by surprise and the intense scent of fresh flowers.
The entire space was flooded with vibrant colors and delicate fragrances—bouquets and arrangements carefully spread across tables, counters, and even the floor, forming a breathtaking scene.
I brought a hand to my chest, stunned, as I walked through the transformed space.
On the main counter sat a particularly magnificent bouquet—red roses, white lilies, and small wildflowers woven together with such elegance and care that it immediately caught my attention.
A small handwritten note was attached to the flowers.
With trembling fingers, I picked up the card and read the few—but sincere—words in silence:
“To the most incredible woman I know. You deserve an entire world of flowers. With love, Enrico.”
My heart skipped wildly, tears filling my eyes as I absorbed those simple yet powerful words.
The vulnerability was intense—but something inside me warmed more and more as I read and reread that short message.
“Oh my God! What madness is this?!” Júlia’s loud, excited voice burst into the room, pulling me out of my emotional bubble.
She looked around in awe, her expression playful but full of expectation.
“Júlia…” I murmured weakly, smiling through tears as I still held the card.
She studied me for a moment and immediately understood that something special had just happened. She hurried over and wrapped me in a tight hug.
“Hey, my friend… what happened? Are you okay? This was Enrico, wasn’t it?”
I took a deep breath, nodding as I discreetly wiped my tears.
“It was,” I admitted. “Júlia, I think I’m completely lost now,” I confessed, my voice almost desperate—but tender in a way I couldn’t hide.
She laughed softly, holding my shoulders and looking me straight in the eyes.
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I nodded and led her to one of the nearby tables, sitting among that wonderful sea of flowers that seemed to silently witness my confession.
“Júlia, I didn’t want to admit this even to myself, but… I don’t know when or how it happened exactly—but I’m trusting him again. Enrico managed to break down every one of my defenses, slowly, without me even realizing it.”
She squeezed my hand warmly, her eyes full of empathy.
“I noticed, friend. It’s been a while, actually. You seem different. Lighter. Happier. And he’s not the man who hurt you in the past. That’s obvious to anyone.”
I nodded.
“I fought against that faith. I didn’t want to believe he had really changed. But Júlia… my heart already believes. I see it in every action, every detail. And that terrifies me. Because even seeing all that, I’m still afraid. Afraid things will go wrong again.”
Júlia smiled and leaned closer, her expression calm and understanding.
“Of course you’re afraid, Valentina. That’s normal. You went through a lot with him. But maybe it’s time to set fear aside just a little and… live this. You deserve to be happy again.”
I took a deep breath, looking around once more, still taken by the magical scene Enrico had created for me that morning.
“I think you’re right. I think it’s time to stop running from what I feel. I can’t deny it anymore. My heart decided a long time ago.”
Júlia broke into a bright, knowing smile, squeezing my hand again.
“Finally, Valentina! Honestly, I was just waiting for this moment. And look at all this—if that man doesn’t love you desperately, I don’t know what does.”
I laughed with her, my chest filling with hope and a deep warmth I hadn’t felt in a long time.
Surrounded by flowers and my best friend’s unconditional support, I allowed myself to open the door to a truth that had been waiting for my acceptance for a while now:
I was ready.
Ready to take that final step.
Fear was still there, quietly—but it was infinitely smaller than the powerful, irresistible feeling Enrico had awakened in me again.
And maybe… maybe I really was ready to believe in happy endings once more.
***
The pleasant warmth of Enrico’s body wrapped around mine. His legs were open around me, keeping me nestled between them in a closeness that had slowly become our new nightly routine.
A worn, aged copy of Pride and Prejudice rested in my hands. I couldn’t stop smiling as I read, completely absorbed in a story I knew almost by heart—but that never lost its magic.
Beside me, Enrico held his own copy, also bought at a used bookstore—one he’d handed me the night before with a mischievous smile.
I’d always loved used books, especially those found in secondhand shops. I believed each copy carried its own history.
Marked pages, handwritten notes in the margins, stains and wear—they all told me someone had lived and felt something through that book before me.
And the fact that Enrico remembered that small obsession of mine, bringing me two old editions of my favorite novel, warmed something deep inside me.
It was yet another subtle, delicate sign that he was paying attention to the smallest details—trying to recover every lost piece of our connection.
“Honestly, I don’t understand how you can like Darcy so much,” he said, breaking the comfortable silence.
I lifted my eyes from the book and looked at him over my shoulder, frowning in mock indignation.
“What? How can you not understand? He’s perfect, Enrico. Practically the ideal prototype of a man.”
He chuckled softly, shaking his head as he kept reading.
“He’s rude, Valentina. And way too arrogant. I’ve never understood this female obsession with Darcy.”
“He’s proud, not arrogant,” I corrected immediately. “And that’s exactly what makes it so incredible when he finally admits his mistakes and shows who he really is.”
Enrico raised an eyebrow, a playful smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
“Ah, now I get it. You like the transformation. The man who starts off kind of an idiot and then turns out to be amazing.”
I nudged him lightly with my elbow, laughing as he pretended to be wounded.
“Exactly, Ferrara. The transformation is the most important part. And by the way, you should pay close attention to that detail. You might learn something.”
He laughed again, his eyes glinting with provocation.
“Not that I’m proud of it, but if the secret to winning you is starting out as an idiot and then becoming incredible, I think I pretty much aced that test.”
I bit my lip to hold back a laugh—but failed. It burst out of me, shaking my shoulders.
“Apparently, you’re still in the ‘idiot’ phase,” I shot back, and he laughed too.
His lips brushed my cheek, and I sighed. God, that felt good.
“As long as the ending is winning you, I’m fine with it.”
I smiled sweetly and tilted my head back slightly to look at him.
“Maybe I’ll need a few more literary demonstrations like this to be absolutely sure. How about Sense and Sensibility next?”
Enrico rolled his eyes dramatically, sighing as he pulled me a little closer.
“Why do I get the feeling that after Sense and Sensibility, you’re going to ask for yet another literary demonstration, Valentina Ferrara?”
It was the first time he’d called me that—or at least the first time I noticed.
And it sounded… right.
I laughed softly, relaxing against his chest as I turned back to the open book in my hands.
“You have no idea what’s waiting for you.”
I felt his warm breath against my neck as he replied gently, his voice heavy with meaning:
“I can’t wait to find out, my love.”
We fell into a comfortable silence as we both read.
It didn’t last long.
“But let’s be honest, Valentina—this guy spends half the book dragging things out before admitting what he feels. He could’ve made everyone’s life easier by just saying it from the start,” he said, his voice low and laced with that teasing tone that always unsettled me.
I rolled my eyes, laughing softly as I shifted closer.
“Oh, please. As if you were an expert at making things easy. Want me to list a few examples of how you’re basically the king of complicating everything?”
He laughed and leaned closer, his lips almost brushing my ear, sending an involuntary shiver through me.
“Oh, really? Then maybe you can teach me how to make things easier… right now,” he whispered, his tone suddenly deeper, unmistakably sensual.
My heart raced. I took a deep breath, trying to keep my voice steady and teasing despite how affected I was by his closeness.
“I don’t know, Enrico. I think you might need to do a little more to deserve that kind of ease.”
He lifted a hand and gently brushed my hair aside, his fingers sliding slowly along my neck in a deliberate, provocative caress.
“More?” he murmured, his mouth now far too close to my sensitive skin. “I think I’ve been pretty dedicated lately, Valentina…”
For a moment, I forgot how to breathe. The books in our hands suddenly felt far too heavy.
My breathing quickened slightly, my body responding inevitably to the light, maddening touch of his fingers.
“Maybe ‘dedicated’ isn’t the right word…” I countered with effort, pretending control while my heart raced.
Enrico laughed softly and gently took the book from my hands, setting it aside along with his.
Without the books between us, his hands had more freedom, and soon I was fully surrendered to the slow, gentle caresses along my shoulders and arms.
“And what would be the right word, then?” he asked, kissing the sensitive spot behind my ear.
I closed my eyes, giving in to the delicious sensations his touch awakened.
“Convincing,” I murmured, turning to face him.
Enrico smiled, satisfied.
“Very well. Then allow me to be a little more convincing now,” he whispered before leaning in to kiss me—slowly, deliberately, full of promise.
His lips explored mine as his arms wrapped around me firmly, pulling me closer. Our breaths mingled, fast and eager.
When we pulled back slightly, we were both breathless, our eyes locked in silence, his gaze openly full of desire.
“How about that method of persuasion, love?”
“I think you need to try a little harder,” I whispered.
He smiled and pulled me back in, and the second kiss was even more intense than the first.
But just as our hands began to explore with more boldness, a light, insistent sound echoed at the bedroom door, ripping us abruptly from that warm, intoxicating bubble.
“Mommy? Daddy? Can I sleep with you tonight?”
Enrico’s eyes widened, and for a second we just stared at each other, stunned.
The carefully built mood vanished instantly.
“I guess our convincing moment will have to wait,” Enrico whispered with a resigned chuckle as I hurried to straighten my pajamas and fix my hair before opening the door.
I took a deep breath, trying to calm my racing heart and the lingering heat in my body.
I glanced at Enrico, who was also quickly fixing his clothes, recovering from our interrupted moment.
Clara knocked again, a little more insistently now, her voice sleepy.
“Mommy? Are you there?”
I smiled, unable to hold back a soft, resigned laugh as I walked to the door.
“Mommy’s coming, sweetheart. Just a second!”
Clara stood there holding a pillow much too big for her small body, her favorite teddy tucked under her arm. Her eyes were heavy with sleep, her face adorably rumpled, and she immediately made an impatient little face.
“Why did you take so long, Mommy? I was already falling asleep standing up!”
I laughed softly, stroking her hair as I let her into the room.
“Sorry, sweetheart. Mommy was just talking to Daddy.”
She cast a suspicious glance toward the bed, where Enrico now sat wearing an expression of complete innocence, as if nothing at all had happened moments earlier.
“Daddy looks funny,” she announced bluntly, approaching him with a critical stare.
Enrico blinked a few times, caught by her perceptiveness, then plastered on an exaggerated smile as he gently pulled her into his lap.
“Funny? Me? Imagine that, princess. I was just waiting for you so we could sleep.”
Clara didn’t seem fully convinced, but she quickly forgot her suspicion as she cuddled against her father’s chest.
“I brought our favorite book for you to read to me tonight, Daddy,” she said happily, showing him a well-worn picture book filled with princesses and dragons.
Enrico’s expression softened instantly as he took the book, his eyes glowing with tenderness.
“Anything you want, my love,” he said warmly, stroking her dark hair. “Lie down here and I’ll read to you.”
Clara settled beside him immediately. I sat down next to my daughter, my heart overflowing as I watched the scene unfold: Enrico holding the book carefully, his calm, gentle voice filling the room while Clara listened, her eyes shining with enchantment.
My gaze met Enrico’s as he read to our daughter, and the silent intensity of that moment made my heart race again—for an entirely different reason.
He gave me a discreet smile before turning back to the book, while Clara slowly drifted off to sleep, safe and happy between us.
That moment—unexpected, interrupted, imperfect—was perfect exactly as it was.
And something inside me knew that nights like that, interrupted or not, were exactly what I wanted for the rest of my life.