CHAPTER 59
NINA MARCHESI
“Thank you for having me,” Nero says as soon as I step aside and let him into the house. He’s wearing denim shorts and a white shirt, the first two buttons undone, and I look away when I realize I’m staring. “Is Kael here?” he asks, anxiety edging his voice. “I really miss him.”
I take a deep breath, reminding myself that this is exactly why I invited him over this afternoon. I might have been able to keep them apart longer if I hadn’t made the mistake—literal and metaphorical—of opening the door to Nero a week ago.
But now that he’s met him, my son has asked several times whether his father has gone back to being a prince—and when I said no, he asked why, then, he hadn’t come to see him.
“No. Today’s my mother’s day off. She took him to the neighborhood square,” I answer. Nero nods; disappointment flashes across his face, but he hides it quickly. As promised, he hasn’t made any demands—at least, not yet.
Atlas, who’s always had my number—even though, in recent years, our communication went through my mother—asked if he could pass it on to Nero. Resigned, I agreed. Over the last seven days, I’ve received daily messages asking how Kael was in the morning and at night. Nothing more.
“I read the documents you gave me,” I say, walking ahead of him and stopping at the dining table.
I gesture for him to sit, wait until he chooses a seat, then sit across from him.
I slide the envelope back across the tabletop until it rests in front of him.
“I have some reservations. I made a few changes and I’d like to talk about them. ”
His eyebrows lift. I know exactly why.
The assurances Nero whispered to me at my door were multiplied tenfold in the documents. According to the papers in the envelope, he was committing to do whatever I wanted—to submit to any decision I made—when it came to Kael.
Nero places his hands on the envelope but doesn’t open it. I brace myself to argue. I assumed his cooperative posture wouldn’t last forever.
“That’s fine. I’ll ask Atlas to draft the revisions,” he promises, and I frown, confused.
“You’re not going to read them first?”
“I don’t need to.”
“But you don’t know what changes I’m proposing.”
“I don’t need to know, Nina. They don’t matter. I meant it when I said it would be on your terms—whatever those terms are.”
I blink, genuinely surprised, and my heart tightens in an unfamiliar way—too pleased by what I’ve just heard. I scold it silently.
“I should’ve added a clause banning you from setting foot in Italy.
Is it too late to amend?” I ask. Nero’s mouth stretches into a wide smile.
My mind wants to think it’s beautiful too, but I refuse the thought.
“Do you have any idea how long you’ll be staying in town?
” I ask, changing the subject. “Our routine is complicated, but if you can tell me how long you plan to stay, we can organize things and start introducing you into Kael’s life gradually. ”
“I do,” he says, and I raise my eyebrows, prompting him to continue. “Forever, probably. Unless you want to move, of course. Then I’ll go wherever you go.”
I roll my eyes at the absurd answer. It’s the same as before, and it makes me want to growl.
“I’m being serious, Nero. I invited you here solely because—against all my instincts—I know my son deserves a father. But if you’re not going to take this seriously, it’s better we stop before we even begin.”
“I am taking it seriously,” he says simply, without any sign of irritation at my reaction.
“You can’t be serious and say you’re staying here forever. You have a life. There’s no way you can abandon it, and you know that. Things will be much easier if we’re honest from the start.”
“You want honesty? You want me to be serious?”
“That’s all I’m asking.”
“All right,” he says. I place my hands on the table, fingers interlaced. “You’re right, Nina. I do have a life.”
I nod.
The hope that—for Kael’s sake—had stubbornly begun to take root in my chest with his earlier words withers and dies. Even so, I feel oddly satisfied.
Because despite my heart’s irrational tendency to want to trust Nero—even after everything, even after all these years—my mind hasn’t let me down.
“I think we can work out ways to manage the distance if you can tell me how you plan to handle it.”
“You’re wrong about what you think that distance is,” he says, answering my first question as if I hadn’t just spoken. “My life is you and Kael.”
He says it with such calm certainty that anyone listening would probably believe him. Anyone but me.
“I know I did a terrible job proving that over the last five years—hell, I did an excellent job showing the exact opposite—but I was wrong, Nina. I’ll ask for forgiveness for the rest of my life, every single day, and it still won’t be enough.
But I’m selfish, and I’ll keep wanting and hoping for the chance to fix things. I’m not going anywhere.”
The promise leaves his mouth along with a look I spent countless nights dreaming about while crying myself to sleep, stroking my belly when it was still Kael’s home.
Except now it’s nothing. It means nothing. Because it’s too late.
“You need to stop doing this,” I warn him. I don’t need to explain what I mean—he understands.
“You asked for honesty.”
“I can’t believe I need to say this to you, Nero.
But it’s too late. Everything that happened—” I start, then stop myself, refusing to go down that path.
“You told me your family and you weren’t a package.
Kael and I aren’t either. You’re here to be part of his life, Nero—not mine.
He’s only three, and he’s the only reason I’m in the same room as you, speaking civilly and looking for options. Him. Only him.”
I emphasize it. Nero watches me in silence.
“I need you to agree,” I add.
“I’m sorry, Nina, but I can’t. You asked for honesty, and even if you hadn’t, I’d never give you anything else. I want the whole package. I want our son, and I want you—and I don’t care if I have to wait.”
“You should,” I say, “because that isn’t going to change.”
“Then I’ll be happy to spend my life waiting for the only woman I ever loved. A thousand lifetimes waiting for you would be better than any single one where the chance to belong to you again didn’t exist.”
***
“And this one is Batman,” Kael announces proudly, presenting the last of his many superhero figurines to Nero.
He’d argued with a little friend at the square and wanted to come home early. The surprise and joy on his face when he arrived and found his father made every exhausting second of the conversation I’d just had with Nero worth it. Kael literally ran into his arms.
After Nero’s declaration of eternal love, I refused to talk with him about anything other than Kael. We set visiting times and days—and agreed that even during those moments, he would call ahead to confirm.
Today wasn’t on the schedule, but I wouldn’t deny this to my son.
Kael welcomed Nero into his life as if his father had simply been traveling for years and had finally come back.
That was my plan. It always had been. I just never dared say it out loud to myself—never dared admit my motives for bringing Nero into every small corner of Kael’s life where I found an opening.
“And which one’s your favorite?” From Kael’s bedroom doorway, I watch Nero kneeling in front of the shelf beside his son, asking.
“Superman. And yours?”
“I like Batman.”
“I think I changed my mind,” Kael says, and I raise my eyebrows—because ever since he learned what superheroes are, Superman has always been his favorite. “Yeah,” he confirms, tilting his head back. “I think Batman is my favorite now.”
Even blinking rapidly isn’t enough to stop a stubborn tear from sliding down my cheek.