Chapter Fifty-Three
Chiara
Outside, the sunlight hits our faces. We sit on a bench overlooking a lush garden, coffee in hand, and for a moment it’s just the two of us. Now that my head is clearer, I recount everything, from the marriage contract to the events of the docks, Lily’s fingers weave into mine.
“Oh, sis.” She lets out a shaky breath once I’m finished. “I suspected so much, but I had no idea how bad this could get.”
“Me, neither,” I reply, staring at our intertwined fingers. “I…was so scared, Lee.”
She gently squeezes my hand, sensing that I needed to voice my whirling thoughts.
“But…I wasn’t scared for me,” I go on. “I was terrified for him. Lucas.” Duh, who else?
Heat creeps up my neck, but Lily merely smiles encouragingly.
“I’m happy that things turned out good and everyone is safe.
” I let out a long exhale. “Now, things can return to normal, I guess.” Was that twinge in my chest my heart squeezing?
“What is…normal?” Lily asks tentatively, and my mind blanks.
“It’s…not really clear in my head yet, but I have been thinking a lot when I was in the hospital bed,” I admit.
“I am not sure I know who I am anymore. I thought I had my life figured out when I was living in that small town. But I was lying to myself, I was hiding.” I look up into her eyes.
“The life here I thought was a cage trapping me, was in fact myself building it, letting it imprison me. I’m done hiding, this is not who I want to be. ”
Lily nods.
“Listen,” I go on. “About the villa, it’s yours if you want it.”
“No,” Lily shakes her head and squeezes my hand. “I told you, I don’t want it, and Dante doesn’t need any more money.”
“Okay.” I breathe out. “I don’t want to sell it anymore. I was thinking about remodeling it. Turn it into a women’s shelter. The size is optimal, the grounds are secure, it’s perfect.”
Lily gives me a long, admiring look, but she remains silent, nodding to urge me on.
“I don’t have any education, and I don’t know how I’ll do it, but I want it to be a place where women and children will feel safe and free.
They’ll get schooling, learn trades. They can learn how to cook if that’s what they want.
And they’ll have martial arts and boxing lessons, so they’ll never feel helpless again. ” My voice has gained confidence now.
“Oh, sis.” Lily has tears in her eyes. “That’s amazing. You are amazing and I’m so proud to be your sister.”
I give her a shy, watery smile, my throat too tight to utter a reply.
She gives me a long look and quietly asks the question I have been dreading. “What about… Lucas?”
I look away, trying to find the right words.
Then I clear my throat before replying. “I-I don’t know what this…
situationship is. Now that we don’t need to be married anymore, we could go back to being friends, I guess…
” My heart constricts painfully in my chest, but I breathe through it, pushing the feeling down.
I can do this, I’ll be strong and everything will work out.
Lily remains silent, and I go on. “You know, for so long I’ve thought I had no choice, that I was confined in this world by duty and obedience.
What I wasn’t seeing was that I was holding the bars of my own prison so tight that I couldn’t see what was going on around me.
I was too busy telling myself I was trapped that I didn’t notice Lucas tearing down the walls around me, brick by brick.
He set me free without me even knowing it.
He saw the real me and instead of trying to change me, he accepted me.
” I look back at her and smile with a bravery I don’t feel.
“I will be forever grateful for what he did. And honestly, I’ll be okay now. I’m myself, I’m free.”
Lily takes my hand in hers and squeezes gently. Then she reaches into her tote bag to retrieve an item and places it into my palm. My breath catches in my throat.
“The paper crane I left behind,” I whisper in a hoarse voice.
“I think this belongs to you,” she says gently. “You don’t need to run anymore.”
“No…” Tears gather in my eyes. “I… don’t need to fly away anymore. I’m staying.”
She wraps her arms around me with a relieved sob and we hug, tears of joy, of hope, of resilience slowly trailing down our cheeks.
By the time we return, Matteo and Erin are there, too. The room is suddenly filled with warmth. Hugs are exchanged all around, relief evident in everyone’s eyes. Then the visitors start to file out, and the door closes behind them with a soft click.
Once they’ve left, a tray is brought in, and I notice that it’s already noon.
Even though I grew up in luxury, my jaw drops when I see the opulence of the meal which looks more like a Michelin-worthy lunch than a hospital tray.
I barely have time to comment before Lucas is tugging at my wrist, pulling me back onto his bed.
“Come here,” he says.
“I need to go back to the villa to shower and get new clothes. I’ll eat there,” I reply.
“No.” His tone is gentle but final. “Eat with me. Then Roberto can take you back to the villa. But you’ll come back here right after, promise me.”
“Lucas, I’m only crowding you here—”
“You’ll come back here,” he snaps, and my annoyance rises a new notch. But before I can reply, he catches my wrist and tugs me toward him. I land on his chest and hear his ragged intake of breath.
“Oh my, god, Lucas your rib,” I cry, my annoyance forgotten.
“It’s nothing,” he grits out between clenched teeth, but his face has gone ashen. “Come sit next to me. Please…”
My heart clenches in my chest from seeing him in pain.
I disentangle my hand and round the bed to sit on the other side, making sure to avoid brushing against his cracked rib.
As soon as I’m settled, Lucas relaxes. I roll the overbed table near and we start to eat.
Even wounded, Lucas gives me bites from his fork, his movements awkward and hindered by his ribs and bandaged hand.
But he insists and since I want him to stop exerting himself, I obediently eat what he holds out to me.
His eyes never leave my face, and heat creeps up my neck under the intensity of his stare, and my heart hammers erratically against my ribcage.
Later, the nurses return to renew his painkillers. I move aside again, watching as the medication is administered. When they leave, he looks heavier somehow, his eyes are softer, his movements slower.
“Movie?” I suggest quietly.
He nods, already reaching for the remote. We watch a light rom-com in companionable silence, my head against his shoulder, his arm wrapped around me.
After a while, he speaks so quietly I think I imagined it at first.
“I always seem to fuck things up, don’t I?”
I lift my head. He is watching me, the blue of his eyes dull and heavy, but his gaze is trained on me. I frown. “What do you mean?”
“With…you. Us.” His voice is rough and there’s a hard line around his mouth.
I am about to reply, but he goes on. “I’ve mentioned that my parents died when I was twelve.”
I nod, wondering where this is going, but dreading to find out. Lucas has a faraway look now, obviously reliving those painful moments of the past.
“They were so in love they forgot they weren’t the only ones in the world.
They left me to nannies and tutors to live their fairytale and travel the world while I stayed behind.
That day, they were leaving again and I’d asked them not to go.
But they still left, they chose themselves over me.
” He swallows hard before going on. “And I wished that they’d die.
” He averts his gaze, ignoring my sharp intake of breath.
“And they did. I mean die. Their plane crashed, and I was the one wanting them dead. I know it’s fucked up but I can’t stop myself from believing I caused this, that if I hadn’t wished for them to die, they’d still be alive.”
I begin to push myself up on my arms, but he intensifies his hold on me to pin me there.
“Lucas, you were a child,” I whisper brokenly.
He slowly shakes his head, turning his face back to mine. “No cara mia, I was old enough to know the meaning of words and their weight. Those were the last words we exchanged and now they are a constant reminder that I destroy everything I touch.”
Then his eyes are boring into mine, dark like fathomless pits.
“When…you said those things to Vitale, about divorcing me to marry him,” he goes on, voice rough, “I thought you’d leave me. That you were choosing him over me.”
I begin to protest but he cups my face, brushing his thumb over my lips to silence me.
“But even then, even thinking you were leaving me, I never thought—” He stops, breathing hard. His gaze becomes hard, and I shiver under the weight of the intensity.
“What are you saying?” I whisper through my constricted throat.
His eyes become heavy as he brushes his thumb over my lower lip. “I wished I’d be the one dying.”
“Lucas—”
“I wanted to make it stop. The pain. The knowledge that you’d willingly walk away from me. Again. I just…couldn’t take it anymore.” His hand falls back on the bed as if it were too heavy. He averts his face, jaw working.
I swallow hard, feeling the weight of his words settle in my chest. The room is quiet except for our breathing. My heart hammers against my chest and I can’t stop the ache that twists there. Is he saying…? No, this must be the medication.
“That’s…the drugs speaking,” I whisper.
He slowly shakes his head with a stubborn set on his jaw.
But his eyes droop and he can’t fight anymore.
“Cara mia,” he slurs, clearly losing the fight against sleep.
“I know I have nothing to offer you. I know I’m fucked up, and I destroyed what we had.
But still, I’m asking you—don’t go…” His voice cracks and the last word comes out in a mere whisper. “Please.”
“I’m right here,” I croak out. “Sleep now.” I lay my head on his shoulder, my throat constricted and my mind spinning.
“Lucas?”
“Yes, my sunfall?” comes his low reply, barely a breath disrupting the silence.
The words that have been choking me fly out at last. “You are enough, Lucas. You deserve affection, you deserve people to love you.”
His breath shudders and his hold around me tightens before it slacks and he gives in to sleep. When his breathing deepens, I let my tears fall. My quiet sobs echo in the silent room, as my heart shatters for the broken boy and for the scarred man he has become.