27. Luca
27
LUCA
T he soft rustle of turning pages fills the library, a soothing soundtrack to the peaceful afternoon. I glance over at Mia, curled up in her favorite armchair, completely absorbed in her book. A strand of hair has fallen across her face, and I resist the urge to reach out and tuck it behind her ear. I don’t want to disturb her when she looks so content.
It’s been several months since that night I confessed everything to Mia—about my family, about the Sicuras, about the years of pain and resentment that led me to where I am now.
And for the first time in longer than I can remember, I actually feel… happy.
The word still feels foreign on my tongue, almost dangerous. As if by acknowledging this happiness, I might somehow jinx it. But there’s no denying the warmth that spreads through my chest when I look at Mia or the way the constant anger that’s been my companion for so long has faded to a dull background noise.
These past months with Mia have been nothing short of transformative. She’s brought a light into my life that I didn’t even know was missing. Our days are filled with quiet moments like this, reading together in the library or taking long walks in the gardens. In the evenings, we often sit on the terrace, watching the sunset and talking about everything and nothing.
Mia has a way of drawing me out of my shell, of making me see the world through her eyes. She asks questions about my business, offering insights that often surprise me with their acuteness. She’s interested in everything, always eager to learn more, and her enthusiasm is infectious.
I find myself sharing more with her than I ever have with anyone else. Not just about my past, but about my hopes for the future, my fears, my dreams. It's liberating in a way I never expected.
And Mia… she’s blossomed in these months. The shy, uncertain girl I married has grown into a confident young woman. She’s taken to her role as mistress of the house with a grace and ease that impresses even my most skeptical staff members.
I remember the first time I saw her in action, about a month after our wedding. There was a problem with one of our shipments—a mix-up that threatened to cost us a significant amount of money. I was in the middle of a heated phone call when Mia walked into my office.
Without a word, she picked up a pen and paper and started making notes. When I hung up, fuming, she calmly presented me with a list of potential solutions she’d come up with just from hearing my side of the conversation.
I was stunned. Not just by her quick thinking, but by her willingness to involve herself in my business. From that day on, I started including her more, valuing her input.
And she’s never failed to impress me.
The staff adores her. Lucia, my housekeeper, tells me that the house has never run more smoothly. Mia has a knack for remembering everyone’s names, their families, their birthdays. She takes a genuine interest in their lives, and in return, they’re fiercely loyal to her.
Just last week, I overheard two of the gardeners talking. One of them said, “The Missus asked after my daughter today. Remembered she had a big exam coming up. Can you believe it? In all my years here, no one’s ever cared about stuff like that before.”
It made me realize how much I’d been missing, how closed off I’d been to the people around me. Sure, I’ve always been kind to my staff, but I never bothered to ask them about their families, their likes, their dislikes.
Mia’s openness, her kindness—it’s changing not just me, but the entire atmosphere of the house.
Our evenings are my favorite time. After dinner, we often retire to the library. Sometimes, we read aloud to each other. Mia has introduced me to a world of literature I never knew existed. Who knew trashy literature could be so interesting?
Other times, we just sit in comfortable silence, each lost in our own books but still connected.
Like now. I watch as Mia’s brow furrows slightly, reacting to something in her book. Her lips move silently, forming the words she’s reading, and I’m struck anew by how beautiful she is. Not just physically, though she’s certainly that. But there’s a beauty in her spirit, in the way she approaches the world with such openness and curiosity.
I realize I’m staring when Mia looks up, catching my eye. She smiles, and it’s like the sun coming out from behind a cloud.
“What are you thinking about?” she asks, marking her place in her book.
I consider deflecting, but honesty has become our policy these past months. “You,” I admit. “How happy you’ve made me.”
A blush colors her cheeks, and she ducks her head shyly. But when she looks back up at me, there’s a sadness in her eyes that I’ve been noticing more and more lately.
“Mia?” I set my own book aside, leaning toward her. “What’s wrong?”
She hesitates, biting her lip in that way she does when she’s unsure about something. “It’s nothing,” she says, but I can hear the lie in her voice.
“Mia,” I say gently. “Talk to me. Please.”
She takes a deep breath, then sets her book aside. “I… I miss my family,” she confesses, her voice barely above a whisper. “I understand why you prefer that I stay here, and I love being with you. But I miss my sisters and mother. I miss spending time with them.”
Her words hit me like a physical blow. Of course she misses her family. How could she not? I’ve been so wrapped up in my own happiness, in the joy of having Mia all to myself, that I’ve neglected to consider how she must feel, cut off from the people she loves.
“I’m sorry,” I say, the words feeling inadequate. “I’ve been selfish, keeping you here all this time.”
Mia shakes her head. “No, Luca. You haven’t. I’ve been happy here, truly. It’s just…”
“You need your family,” I finish for her.
She nods, tears shining in her eyes. “They’re my sisters. It’s my mother. I miss them so much it hurts sometimes.”
I stand, crossing the room to kneel in front of her chair. Taking her hands in mine, I look up into her eyes. “You should visit them,” I say, the words coming out before I’ve fully thought them through.
Mia’s eyes widen in surprise. “Really? You… you’d be okay with that?”
I nod, pushing down the fear that’s trying to claw its way up my throat. “Of course. They’re your family, Mia. I never meant to keep you from them entirely.”
The smile that lights up her face is radiant. She throws her arms around me, nearly knocking me over in her enthusiasm. “Thank you, Luca. Thank you so much.”
As I hold her, I’m struck by two conflicting emotions. On one hand, I feel guilty for having kept her away for so long. Seeing how excited she is at the prospect of seeing her family, I realize how much she’s been holding back, how much she’s sacrificed to be with me.
But on the other hand, I’m terrified. What if she goes back to her family and realizes what she’s been missing? What if she decides not to come back?
The thought of losing her, of going back to the emptiness that was my life before her, is almost unbearable.
“You’ll come back, right?” The words slip out before I can stop them, revealing a vulnerability I’m not entirely comfortable with.
Mia pulls back, cupping my face in her hands. “Of course I’ll come back,” she says, her voice firm. “This is my home now, Luca. You’re my home. I love my sisters, but my place is here with you.”
Her words soothe some of the anxiety churning in my gut, but not all of it. I force a smile, not wanting to dampen her excitement. “When do you want to go?” I ask.
“Really?” Mia's eyes light up. “Could I go tomorrow? I could call Sofia tonight, let her know I’m coming.”
I nod, even as my heart clenches at the thought of her leaving so soon. “Of course. I’ll have Marco drive you.”
Mia kisses me then, a deep, passionate kiss that leaves me breathless. “Thank you, Luca,” she murmurs against my lips. “This means so much to me.”
As she hurries off to make her call, I sink into her vacated chair, my emotions in turmoil. I’m happy for her, truly, I am. But I can’t shake the fear that’s taken root in my heart.
What if this is the beginning of the end? What if, in trying to do the right thing, I’m setting myself up to lose the best thing that's ever happened to me?
I shake my head, trying to dispel these dark thoughts. She said she’d come back, and I believe her. This visit doesn’t change that. It doesn’t change us.
But as I listen to her excited voice drifting from the other room, I can’t help but wonder.
Have I done enough to make her want to stay? Is our connection strong enough to withstand the pull of her family, of her old life?
Only time will tell. For now, all I can do is trust in Mia, in the bond we’ve forged these past months.
And hope that when the time comes, she’ll choose to come back to me.
Because the truth is, I don’t know who I’d be without her anymore. She’s become such an integral part of my life, of who I am, that the thought of losing her is almost unthinkable.
Mia bursts back into the room, her face flushed with excitement. “Luca, you won’t believe it! Sofia was so happy when I called. She actually cried!”
I force a smile, trying to match her enthusiasm. “That’s wonderful. I’m glad they’re excited to see you.”
Mia continues, seemingly oblivious to my internal struggle. “Mama was there too. And Bianca’s bringing Cara. I haven’t seen her in so long! I wonder if she’s walking yet.”
As she chatters on, I feel my smile becoming more strained. I’m happy for her, truly, I am. But each word is like a knife, reminding me of all the family moments she’s missed because of me.
"Oh, and Chiara said she has a surprise for me. I wonder if she had her baby?”
I nod, not trusting myself to speak. Mia’s excitement is palpable, filling the room with an energy that’s both infectious and terrifying.
Suddenly, she stops mid-sentence, her eyes focusing on me. “Luca? What’s wrong?”
I try to brush it off. “Nothing’s wrong. I’m just glad you’re happy.”
But Mia’s not fooled. She crosses the room to where I’m sitting, her brow furrowed in concern. Gently, she cups my face in her hands, forcing me to meet her gaze.
“Talk to me,” she says softly. “What’s going on in that head of yours?”
I lean into her touch, closing my eyes for a moment. When I open them, Mia’s looking at me with such tenderness that it nearly breaks my heart.
“I’m worried,” I admit quietly. “I’m worried that you’ll go back to your family and realize what you’ve been missing. That you’ll decide… that you’ll decide not to come back.”
Mia’s eyes widen in surprise, then soften with understanding. “Oh, Luca,” she murmurs.
Mia leans in, pressing her forehead against mine. “Listen to me, Luca Strambo. I made a vow to you when we married, remember? You’re my husband. Yes, I miss my family. But that doesn’t change what I promised you at the altar.”
She smiles, kissing my nose. “You’re not going to lose me, Luca. I’m right here, and I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”
I nod, pulling her into my lap and wrapping my arms around her. As I hold her close, breathing in her familiar scent, I try to let her words sink in, to believe them with all my heart.
“Okay,” I murmur into her hair. “I believe you.”
But even as I say the words, even as I feel the warmth of her body against mine, a part of me can’t fully shake the fear. It lingers in the back of my mind, a persistent whisper of doubt.
Mia pulls back, her eyes shining with excitement. “I’m going to go pick out my outfit for tomorrow,” she says, giving me one last quick kiss before standing up. “I want to be ready to leave first thing in the morning.”
I watch her go, my heart heavy in my chest. Her enthusiasm is palpable, and it only serves to fuel my anxiety. What if she gets there and realizes how much she’s missed? What if her family convinces her to stay?
As the sound of her footsteps fades down the hallway, I’m left alone with my thoughts. I try to focus on the positives—on how happy Mia has been these past months, on the life we’ve built together.
But the fear keeps creeping back in.
I stand up, moving to the window. The sun is setting, painting the sky in shades of orange and pink. It’s beautiful, but all I can think about is how empty this house will feel without Mia in it.