9. Maria
— · —
Maria
Nonna Donna calls three days later.
I almost don’t answer. After everything - the party, the confrontation with Victor, the custody filing - the last thing I want is another Moretti telling me how I’ve ruined their precious family.
But something makes me pick up.
“Maria.” Nonna’s voice is thinner than I remember. Frailer. “Thank you for answering.”
“Nonna. I wasn’t sure I should.”
“I know. After what I said at my birthday...” A long pause. “I was wrong. I’ve been thinking about it. About what Tommy did. About what I said to you. And I was wrong.”
I don’t know what to say.
“I’m having surgery next week,” Nonna continues. “My heart. The doctors say it’s risky at my age. Maybe my last.” Another pause, heavier this time. “Before I go under, I want one family dinner. Everyone together. Even if they hate each other.”
“Nonna, I don’t think-”
“I know what I’m asking. I know what happened with Victor. With Tommy.” Her voice strengthens. “But I’m an old woman, Maria. Maybe dying. And I want to see my family one more time. All of them.”
“Including Luca?”
Silence. Then: “Especially Luca. I want both my grandsons there. Even the one we don’t talk about.”
“He won’t want to come.”
“Then convince him. Please.” Nonna’s voice softens. “I was wrong to blame you. I was wrong about a lot of things. Let me try to make it right. One dinner. That’s all I’m asking.”
I should say no. Should protect myself. Should stay far away from the Morettis and their poison.
But Nonna’s voice sounds so small. So tired. So much like my own mother’s voice, in those last days before the cancer took her.
“I’ll ask him,” I hear myself say. “But I’m not making any promises.”
“Thank you.” I can hear the relief in her voice. “Saturday. Seven o’clock. The restaurant. And Maria?”
“Yes?”
“Wear something beautiful. Show them what they’re losing.”
***
Convincing Luca is harder than I expected.
“Absolutely not.”
We’re in his apartment - our apartment now, I suppose, though neither of us has said it out loud. He’s pacing the living room like a caged animal, running his hands through his hair.
“She’s dying, Luca.”
“She’s manipulating you. It’s what Morettis do.”
“She apologized. She said she was wrong-”
“And you believed her?” He stops pacing. Turns to face me. “Maria, this family has done nothing but hurt you. Hurt us. And now you want to walk back into that restaurant and - what? Play happy family?”
“I want to give an old woman her last wish.”
“Her last wish is to watch the family drama unfold one more time. She’s not doing this out of love. She’s doing it because she’s bored and dying and wants entertainment.”
“That’s not fair.”
“Fair?” He laughs. It’s not a kind sound. “When has anything about this family been fair? Victor set you up. Tommy’s trying to take your baby. And Nonna - Nonna blamed you for all of it. In front of everyone. And now you want to break bread with them?”
“I want to prove I’m not afraid of them.”
That stops him.
“What?”
“If I hide,” I say slowly, working it out as I speak, “if I refuse to show my face, they win. They get to paint me as the bitter ex-wife who couldn’t handle the pressure.
But if I walk in there - head high, you on my arm - they have to face what they did.
They have to look at me and know that they didn’t break me. ”
Luca says nothing for a long moment.
“You’re serious.”
“I’m serious.”
“You know it’s going to be a disaster.”
“Probably.”
“You know Tommy’s going to say something. Victor’s going to threaten you. Someone’s going to do something unforgivable.”
“Almost certainly.”
“And you still want to go.”
I cross to him. Take his hands.
“I want to go with you. I want to stand next to you in front of your whole family and show them that they didn’t win. That we’re not ashamed. That whatever they throw at us - we’re still standing.”
His expression softens. Just a little.
“You’re going to be the death of me, Maria Benedetti.”
“Probably.” I smile. “But not tonight. Tonight, I’m going to be your date to a family dinner. And we’re going to make them regret every single thing they’ve done.”
He pulls me close. Presses his forehead to mine.
“If anyone touches you-”
“You’ll break their arm. I know.”
“I’m serious.”
“So am I.” I kiss him. Soft. Sure. “Now help me pick out a dress. Nonna said to wear something beautiful.”
***
The restaurant is closed for a private event.
I can see them through the windows as we approach, the whole family crowded around tables draped in white. Crystal glasses catching the light. The smell of garlic and wine drifting through the door.
My hand tightens on Luca’s arm.
“Ready?” he asks.
“No.”
“Good. Neither am I.”
We push through the door.
***
The silence is immediate.
Every head in the room turns. Every conversation stops. Every eye fixes on us - standing in the doorway, hand in hand, like we’re walking into battle.
Which, I suppose, we are.
Victor is at the head of the table. His expression doesn’t change, but I see his fingers tighten on his wine glass.
Rosa is next to him, already dabbing at her eyes with a napkin. She looks like she’d rather be anywhere else.
And Tommy-
Tommy is at the other end of the table, Giuliana beside him. Her bump is more visible now, straining against her designer dress. Her hand is resting on it in that possessive way I’ve come to recognize.
But when she sees us, sees me, something flickers across her face.
Not triumph. Not smugness.
Fear.
Interesting.
“Well.” Victor’s voice cuts through the silence. “The prodigal son returns. And he brought the enemy.”
“She’s not the enemy.” Nonna’s voice comes from the center of the table. She’s frailer than I’ve ever seen her - thin and pale, barely filling her chair - but her eyes are sharp. “She’s family. More than some of you deserve.”
The room shifts. Uncomfortable.
“Sit,” Nonna says. “Both of you. There are places set.”
We sit. Together. At the end of the table closest to the door.
In case we need to make a quick exit.
***
Dinner is served. Conversation is stilted. Everyone is pretending this is normal while the tension builds like a thunderstorm.
I focus on my food. On Luca’s hand on my knee under the table. On getting through this night without doing something I’ll regret.
Just a few more hours. Just smile and nod and don’t let them see how much this hurts.
And then Giuliana opens her mouth.
“So, Maria.” Her voice carries across the table. Sweet. Poisonous. “I heard you’ve been staying at Luca’s apartment. That must be... cozy.”
The table goes quiet.
My grip tightens on my fork.
“I’m not sure that’s anyone’s business.”
“I’m just saying-” Giuliana shrugs, all innocence. “It seems fast. Moving on so quickly. Some people might think the marriage was already over before Tommy and I-”
“Before you what?” I hear my own voice go dangerously soft. “Before you spent eight months fucking my husband? Before you got pregnant with his baby while I was crying over negative tests? Before you showed up at my house to deliver divorce papers like some kind of victory announcement?”
Giuliana’s face flushes. “That’s not-”
“It’s not what? Not true?” I laugh. It sounds nothing like humor. “You want to talk about ‘fast,’ Giuliana? Let’s talk about how fast you moved on from being my sister to being my replacement.”
“That’s ENOUGH.” Victor slams his hand on the table.
“Is it?” Luca stands. His voice is calm. Deadly. “Because I think we’ve all been dancing around the truth for long enough.”
***
Luca
I shouldn’t do this.
I should sit back down, keep my mouth shut, let Maria handle it. That was the plan. Support her quietly. Don’t cause a scene.
But I’ve spent five years watching my family lie and cheat and destroy everyone who gets in their way. And I’m done being quiet.
“Tommy cheated for eight months,” I say, looking around the table. “Giuliana helped him. Victor knew and did nothing. And when Maria found out-” My gaze lands on Nonna. “You blamed her.”
Rosa is crying. Cousins are whispering. Tommy’s face is purple with rage.
But I’m watching Giuliana.
She’s gone pale. Quiet. Her hand is on her stomach, but the smugness is gone. Replaced by something that looks almost like terror.
She knows something. Something that scares her more than this family.
“I’ve heard enough.” Victor stands. “Maria, if you think aligning yourself with my disgrace of a son is going to help your case-”
“She doesn’t need to align herself with me.” I step forward. “She’s already won. Because unlike everyone at this table, she’s not afraid to tell the truth.”
“And what truth is that?”
I look around the room. At the cousins who won’t meet my eyes. At Rosa, sobbing into her napkin. At Tommy, whose hands are clenched into fists.
Then I look at Maria.
She’s sitting straight-backed in her chair, watching me with those dark eyes. Not afraid. Not uncertain.
Waiting.
“The truth is that this woman-” I take her hand.
Raise it so everyone can see. “-is the bravest person in this room. She walked into a party knowing she was going to be humiliated, and she didn’t break.
She’s being threatened by everyone with the Moretti name, and she’s still fighting.
She’s pregnant and alone and terrified, and she’s still standing. ”
I look at Victor.
“That’s more than any of you have ever done.”
I turn to Maria. In front of everyone.
“Whatever happens,” I say, loud enough for the whole room to hear. “Whatever they throw at us. I’m with you. All the way.”
And I kiss her.
***
Not a stolen kiss in an alley.
Not a desperate moment in private.
In front of the whole family. Victor. Rosa. Tommy. Giuliana. Nonna. Every cousin and aunt and uncle who ever whispered about the woman who “drove Tommy away.”
I kiss her like she’s the only person in the room.
Because for me, she is.
***
The room explodes.
Tommy lunges forward - someone grabs him, holds him back. Cousins are shouting. Rosa is having hysterics. Victor is standing motionless, his face carved from stone.
But I’m already pulling Maria toward the door.
“Time to go.”
We’re almost out when Nonna’s voice cuts through the chaos.
“Wait.”
Everyone freezes.
Nonna is struggling to her feet. Rosa tries to help her; she waves her off.
“I’ve been alive for eighty years,” she says. Her voice is thin but clear. “I’ve watched this family lie and cheat and destroy everything good it touches.” She looks at Victor. “I’ve watched you turn my sons into monsters.” She looks at Tommy. “And I’ve watched my grandsons become strangers.”
She crosses to Maria. Takes her hands.
“I was wrong about you. I was wrong to blame you. And I’m sorry.” Her eyes are wet. “Take care of that baby. Take care of Luca. And don’t let these bastards win.”
She kisses Maria’s cheek.
Then she turns to me.
“You were always my favorite. Don’t tell the others.”
I choke out a laugh. “Nonna-”
“Come see me before the surgery. Both of you.” She pats my cheek. “Now get out of here before I have to watch my family embarrass themselves any further.”
***
Maria
We make it to the garden before I break.
Not crying - laughing. Hysterical, relieved, terrified laughter that shakes my whole body.
“Did that just happen?” I gasp. “Did you just - in front of everyone-”
“I told you.” Luca pulls me close. “I’m with you. All the way.”
“You kissed me. In front of your whole family.”
“They needed to know.” His forehead rests against mine. “You needed to know.”
“Know what?”
“That I’m not going anywhere. That whatever they throw at us - I’m here. That you’re not alone anymore.”
I kiss him. Soft. Sweet. Tasting like victory and wine.
And then-
FLASH.
The click of a camera.
We break apart.
Someone is standing at the garden gate. Phone raised. Face illuminated by the screen.
Tommy’s cousin Marco. Already running back inside.
“Shit.” Luca’s face goes dark. “He got a photo.”
“Of us kissing.”
“They’re going to use it. In the custody case.”
I should be terrified. Should be panicking about what this means for the hearing, for the baby, for everything we’ve been building.
But I’m looking at Luca - his jaw tight, his eyes fierce, already planning our next move - and I feel something unexpected.
Calm.
“Let them try,” I say. “We’re going to be ready.”
He takes my hand.
“Damn right we are.”