Chapter 13
Tu sei il mio sole
Alexander
I read her texts again. There’s nothing unusual in them, just a normal messages.
But I know better. There was something beneath the surface of her unexpected need to leave. At the time, I was too rattled by what almost happened... and by how abruptly the moment shattered the second Lillian walked in.
But when Cecilia said she needed to go, and especially the way she looked at Lillian when she offered to step out and give us privacy, it all clicked.
She doesn’t know me yet. Not all of me. She has no way of knowing that I would never get involved with my assistant, or with anyone tied to my professional world. If there’s one thing I learned early, it’s that you never mix business with pleasure.
But she doesn’t know that. And the man she spent years married to didn’t just blur those lines, he made a game out of them. And when he lost... he turned their entire family’s life into a nightmare.
I toss my phone onto the desk and turn my chair toward the glass wall. My eyes land on the exact spot where Cecilia stood just hours ago, her back pressed to the glass, her breath almost mingling with mine. I was so close to kissing her I could almost taste her.
I force myself to choose patience and give her the space she needs.
There was nothing remotely inappropriate about the way I interacted with Lillian; we’ve always been strictly professional. With time, Cecilia will see that.
And when she does... I hope it’s not too late for me.
Cecilia has been distant all week.
Always finding a reason not to take my calls, and never returning them. Our messages have been short, the longest one being her response about the files I sent her with the previous Santoro Marmo NY anniversary editions and the extra data she’d requested.
Normally, the PR department would handle all of that. But as long as I’m here, I’ve taken every excuse I can find to keep a line of communication open with her.
Today is my last day in New York. I fly back to Italy tomorrow morning. And I don’t want to leave without seeing her. Even if it’s the last time, and all she wants is to tell me we’ll never be anything more than friends.
I need to see her.
I take a deep breath and pick up my phone, bracing myself for another message saying she can’t talk right now.
It rings once. Two more times, until she answers. I close my eyes, relief washing over me.
“Hello?” she says, almost cautious.
I open my eyes, staring out at the view from my living room window, and only now do I realize I haven’t said a word, just listening to her breathe on the other end.
“Ciao, car—Cecilia.” I catch myself at the last second, but the word hangs there. “Can I still call you Cecilia?”
She doesn’t answer right away.
“Of course you can,” she whispers.
I let out a breath. “I have an invitation for you... and please don’t say no without giving it some thought.” I try to force a smile into my voice. “Today is my last day in New York, and I won’t be back in the States for a while.”
I hear her inhale. “Okay.”
“My sister finished the new paintings she’s been working on and just emerged from her self-imposed quarantine. As always, she’s gathering a few friends to show the pieces before they’re displayed or sold.” I pause, choosing my words. “Would you like to go with me?”
I give her space to think.
“I don’t know... you said it’s only for friends. Wouldn’t it be strange if I showed up with you?”
The question pulls a smile from me. “She’ll probably be happier to see you than to see me. I’ve been talking about you for a long time, and she’s been wanting to meet you.”
When she stops talking again, I lower my voice.
“If you don’t like the environment, I’ll take you home. And I insist on picking you up. The building where she paints is in a more isolated area—I wouldn’t feel right letting you drive there alone.”
After a moment, she says, “Okay. What time will you pick me up?”
Relief hits me so hard my shoulders drop.
“I’ll be there at eight. It’s a little over an hour’s drive.”
We say goodbye, and the moment the call ends, I cross the room and sink onto the couch, hoping the next four hours pass quickly.
Cecily
I take in my reflection. A light champagne-beige, sleeveless jumpsuit with a discreet V-neckline, a cinched waist, and wide legs that sway with every step I take. I’ve paired it with caramel flat sandals, composing an understated yet elegant look.
Alexander said it was a casual gathering. I just hope it’s right for wherever we’re going. I should’ve asked Alexander for more details, but for the first time... talking to him made me nervous.
Not knowing what to expect, I grab a cropped linen jacket, just in case the AC is too strong.
I run my fingers through my hair, letting the loose waves fall behind my shoulders, and give myself one last look in the mirror, checking for mascara smudges on my eyelids, lipstick on my teeth, anything out of place.
Satisfied with the result, I head downstairs to wait for Alexander.
The house feels so empty with the kids out you could hear a pin drop. Ethan left with Dalila and a few friends, and Alicia is spending the night at her father’s—for the first time.
On Wednesday, she asked if we could talk. She told me she wanted to try sleeping there, that it felt nice during her recent visits. I reassured her she could go, and that if she changed her mind at any point, all she had to do was say so. Her father would bring her back immediately.
I’m happy she felt ready to try. Even if it will feel strange not having her with me on weekends anymore, especially once Ethan leaves for college, I truly hope she and Colin can rebuild the relationship they used to have.
I can’t help wondering if the same could ever happen between me and my own parents.
But I shake the thought off and focus instead on the brightness in Alicia’s face when she came home the next day, talking a mile a minute about everything she and her dad bought to decorate her new bedroom at Colin’s penthouse.
When I went there yesterday to see it myself, surprised doesn’t begin to cover how I felt about the location he chose. I’m not sure what message the universe was trying to send with that... so I decided not to dwell on it.
Colin picked a beautiful place. Spacious, comfortable, elegantly furnished.
Alicia’s room looks like a more extravagant version of her bedroom here.
She and Colin clearly went all in on their shopping spree.
Later he mentioned he’d hired someone to come in earlier that day to decorate everything using what they’d bought, plus the reference photos Alicia sent him.
Colin picked her up before Alexander called. Alicia called as soon as they arrived, and she texted not long ago to say everything was fine, that she was going to sleep there tonight with her dad.
I check the time, five minutes to eight.
Before I’m ready for it, I hear a car pull into the driveway. I grab my bag and jacket and step outside just as Alexander gets out. He walks around the front of the car and waits for me by the passenger door.
He’s in dark jeans that fit him with precision, and a crisp white shirt that molds to him in all the ways I shouldn’t be noticing. There’s something almost disarming about how simple he looks and how I seem unable not to notice every detail about him.
When I reach him, it hits me as odd that he doesn’t speak, doesn’t reach for me. Like he always does.
“How would you feel if I greeted you with a kiss on the cheek?” he asks.
I stop breathing.
I know this distance is my doing. Avoiding his calls, keeping our messages brief since my visit to Santoro Marmo. And once I finally had the space to process everything, I realized how unfair, and irrational, I’d been.
We’re just friends. Because of that alone, I shouldn’t have acted the way I have these past few days. And if Alexander had something with Lillian... or anyone else? He’s single. Nothing stops him.
And yet the thought twists something low in my stomach. I also can’t deny this change in me that I can’t name or explain—a feeling I don’t fully understand.
Wanting to fix what I broke, I step closer and rise onto my toes, pressing a kiss to his cheek. My lips linger as I breathe him in.
When I pull back and meet his eyes, I whisper, “It’s good to see you again, Alexander. I’m sorry about the past few days.”
He lifts his hand, hesitating for a heartbeat before brushing his fingers along my cheek.
“There’s nothing to apologize for, Cecilia. I understand... You are free to be yourself with me. Just please don’t shut me out again.”
I swallow hard and say, “Never again.”
Alexander smiles, and when he rests his hand at the small of my back and opens the car door for me, I don’t move right away... letting myself feel the comfort of a gesture I’ve missed far more than I want to admit.
We turn onto an empty street lined with low buildings. They look like old warehouses someone cared enough to bring back to life. The drive passed in a mix of easy conversation—updates about our week, my plans for the Santoro Marmo article—and stretches of comfortable silence.
Alexander wasn’t exaggerating about the area being secluded. Even with the street well lit, it feels almost deserted, the only cars belonging to whoever’s inside the building we’ve just pulled up to.
“Wait here for a second,” Alexander says, stepping out of the car.
I watch as he enters a code into a small panel, and the large metal door begins to rise. A moment later he’s back, sliding into the driver’s seat and pulling the car inside.
We park next to a red Mini Cooper.
“My sister always keeps this spot free for me,” he says, and I don’t miss the affectionate way he says it.
Alexander steps out and opens my door, offering his hand. I take it, and he guides me toward the staircase to our right. As we near the top, the sound of jazz floats toward us, layered with animated conversation.