Chapter Twenty-one
RONAN
Present Day
ITALY
“Rachel,” I called out as we brunched before I visited my aunt, her eyes alight with curiosity. “I need heart-shaped milk and dark chocolates from Tuscani Cioccolato S.r.l. delivered to Nina with a note.”
Her pen hovered over her notebook, eyebrows raised. “Quantity?” she asked, tilting her head with a smile.
“A couple of boxes,” I replied, a hint of nostalgia creeping in. “Maybe ten. Chocolates are her favorite sweets.”
Her face softened, a trace of awe coloring her expression. “Wow,” she murmured, almost to herself. Then, looking up at me, she added, “I’ve only read about this kind of love or seen it in movies, but it’s real for you.”
I smiled, feeling warmth rise with the thought of Nina. “She’s the one for me. I need to show her I’m the one for her.”
Rachel leaned forward, her tone cautious yet curious. “Is that hard?”
“It is,” I admitted, my mind drifting to countless memories. “But it’s worth it. Without her, life’s like a barren landscape because even the stars seem dimmer. It feels as if every breath is just… longing.”
Rachel watched me, nodding slowly, an empathetic glint in her eye. “That’s beautiful,” she murmured. “To feel that way about someone must be overwhelming.”
“Very,” I agreed, my voice soft. “But loving someone that deeply, despite the struggle, gives life its meaning. It’s like finding a piece of yourself in someone else.”
Her gaze softened further, and she leaned in. “Does she know? About how you feel?”
I hesitated, feeling a familiar pang of uncertainty. “I hope she does,” I finally replied. “But with us… It’s more delicate. My actions have to speak louder than any words.”
She reached out, resting a comforting hand on mine. “Love has a way of making itself known.”
I nodded, her words settling in. Maybe she was right. Perhaps my efforts would finally reach Nina. Passing the note over to Rachel, I sealed it in a fuchsia envelope stamped with my insignia, and she left to get it sent.
The phone pinged with a plethora of messages from my group chat with Arnoldo seeking gym buddies, Dillon telling him to fuck off, Lucio and Alex keeping the peace, and Mikkel agreeing to go. That summed up every single conversation we had.
I didn’t even bother responding. My car had arrived, and I made my way to Monumental Cemetery in the heart of Milan, where the air felt heavier today, laden with memories that whispered through the cypress trees and lingered over the cemetery where my parents rested.
I couldn’t believe it had been six years.
Six years of missing their laughter, warmth, and love. I stood before their gravestone, tracing their names, hoping the touch would bring them back. Lucia and Renaldo Romano—taken too soon by cancer, but their love and wisdom remained.
“I’m trying to get Nina back,” I whispered, kneeling beside them. “I know you loved her, Mom and Dad.” Tears blurred my vision as I confessed my failures, the moments I felt I hadn’t lived up to their legacy. “I try. I do, but sometimes I slip up. I wished I could have saved you… fought harder.”
But I took comfort knowing they were together, watching over me. “I talk to you both, you know. Therapy, trying to do right by you. Vi amo entrambi, caramente. Ci risentiremo presto.26”
I stood breathing in the summer air, lilies mingling with freshly cut grass.
After one last glance, I adjusted my jacket and headed toward Aunt Rosa’s flower shop, Il Giardino dei Fiori Rosa, tucked into a quiet corner of Arezzo.
It was more than a business; it was home, with ivy climbing the walls and flowers spilling from the windows above where she lived.
This was her dream for retirement, so of course, I had made it happen.
“Ciao! Salve! Ciao,27” she shouted and ran over to me. “My boy, Ronan! How are you?” she asked, enveloping me in the most comforting hug.
Rosa had been my mother’s best friend and remained by Lucio’s and my side after her passing. She celebrated our milestones, cooked for us when we couldn’t manage, and became a second parent. I could never repay her, but I’d sure try.
“Ah, Zia Rosa,28” I greeted warmly, struck by her radiant presence. “You look absolutely radiant today. I wish I had brought something for you.”
She chuckled and waved off my concern as we strolled over to her cozy sitting area, enveloped by the intoxicating scent of the most exquisite flowers I had ever laid eyes on.
“My dear son, you do more than enough for me already,” she reassured me with a gentle pat on my thigh. “Now, how are you holding up?”
“I just came from visiting their grave,” I confessed quietly, my emotions raw. “I’m hanging in there, but I miss them terribly.”
She sighed deeply, her expression softening with empathy. “I can’t begin to fathom your pain, mio figlio29. Though they may be gone, their love remains with us always, and they loved you like no other. And you have me.”
“I know, Zia. I need you to remember that anything you need, give me a call,” I assured her earnestly.
She gave me a bittersweet smile, her eyes softening. “Ronan, you are as good as any son I could have wished for,” she voiced. “Your parents would be so proud of the man you’ve become. I see Lucia’s spirit in you every time you come to visit.”
“Grazie. That means more to me than you know.” I looked around her place, taking in the vibrant colors lining her walls and the framed family photos.
She leaned forward, resting a hand on mine. “Sometimes, Ronan, we need to carry forward the love they left behind for us. That love doesn’t end, my dear. It transforms, takes on a new life. That’s what I hold onto.”
Her words grounded me. “I’ll try to remember that whenever it gets hard.”
She smiled, a spark lighting up in her eyes as she patted my hand. “I think you could do with a bit of home-cooked magic. You look like you’ve been living off takeout and scotch.”
I laughed, rubbing the back of my neck. “Work tends to keep me busy.”
“Well, lucky for you, I made your favorite—lasagna, the way your mother used to make it. You’ll stay for dinner, won’t you?”
“How did you know I was coming?”
She chuckled and glanced over my shoulder. “Rachel called ahead. Now, are you staying?”
“Try keeping me away.”
Her face broke into a grin as she stood to fetch the food, but she paused, looking back at me. “Ronan, don’t forget, you’re not alone. There’s so much love surrounding you, even in those moments when you feel like the world is too quiet.”
I nodded, touched by her words as she got up. Moments like these, in her company, felt like coming home.
She returned with two plates, the familiar, comforting aroma of her lasagna wafting between us as she set the table. She handed me a glass of wine and sat across from me, her eyes studying me with keen intuition, only she seemed to possess.
“So,” she started, her tone casual but curious, “tell me what else is going on. You don’t just visit your Zia because you miss her, eh?”
I chuckled, shifting in my seat. “You caught me,” I admitted. “Actually, there is someone… someone I’ve been trying to win back.”
Rosa’s eyes gleamed knowingly. “Someone, hmm? Wouldn’t happen to be that beautiful designer, Nina, would it?”
Caught off guard, which I shouldn’t even be because the peonies had to be delivered from somewhere, I managed a sheepish nod. “I messed things up, but now, I’m trying to fix it. I’m not sure she believes me.”
Rosa set down her glass and leaned forward, her voice brimming with warmth and encouragement. “Ah, mio caro30, it’s about time. That girl, she was always good for you. You two, you were like two pieces of a puzzle—meant to be.”
I exhaled, feeling the weight of her words settle over me. “It’s hard, Zia. I don’t know if it’s enough.”
She reached across the table, her hand covering mine.
“Then you keep showing her, Ronan. You’re a stubborn one, like your papà, and that’s not always a bad thing.
Your mamma would’ve told you the same.” She gave my hand a gentle squeeze.
“You’ve learned, you’ve changed, and she will see it. Siate pazienti.31”
I nodded, grateful for her support. “She hosted her first show, and I was there, front row.”
Rosa’s eyes softened. “Ah, love, I always knew you were a romantic, even if you tried to hide it. Be yourself, Ronan, the man she first fell in love with and the one she could love even more now.”
“You’re right,” I murmured, feeling a surge of determination. “I’ll keep trying. I have to.”
She smiled, pouring a bit more wine into my glass. “Now, you eat, eh? Can’t go winning a girl’s heart on an empty stomach.”
“How long are we staying in Milan?” Rachel asked, sitting across from me as I contemplated my next move in the quiet of the home.
“Two more days. No surgeries or patients until then, and we’re up to date, right?” I replied, my gaze on the panoramic Milan skyline outside.
Rachel nodded. “Yes.”
“Perfect.”
Rachel paused. “There’s one more thing. The press wants interviews, especially after the recent philanthropic work. We also heard from Mrs. De Luca.”
I tapped my fingers on the armrest. “I don’t have time for interviews, but we’ll see. What’s the update with Mrs. De Luca?”
She handed me a folder of medical reports. “I’ll handle the press, sir. This is today’s update.”
I reviewed the file and smiled because her treatments were working, and despite the drowsiness and headaches, her scans were improving.
“Everything looks good?” she asked.
“It looks great. I’ll schedule a follow-up for next month,” I said, standing and heading toward the piano.
Rachel hesitated. “Anything else, sir?”
“Could I get some crocheting supplies?”
She nodded. “Right away.”
I softened my tone. “Rachel, you’ve been with me since the beginning. If you want to go explore, you can.”
She looked torn. “I’ve always wanted to see Lake Como.”
“Then go. After getting the supplies, take the two days off.”
Gratitude and surprise flickered in her eyes. “Thank you.”
“You’ve never let me down. Enjoy every moment,” I added warmly.
Rachel nodded, pausing at the door. “What about you? Will you be alright here?”
I smiled. “I’ll manage. I’ll be crocheting, after all.”
With that, Rachel left, leaving me alone with my thoughts, and the only thing I wanted to explore was the different layers of Nina Moretti.
Rachel left, only to return moments later, arms full of the crochet tools I’d requested. She set them carefully on the table beside me, her eyes glinting with amusement as she glanced over the yarn and needles.
“You’re going all in with this,” she remarked, a mix of amazement and disbelief in her voice.
I chuckled, feeling a bit sheepish. “I watched a tutorial on crocheting a snowflake.”
Rachel laughed, the sound warm and familiar. “So, you’re officially committed to the craft?”
“Fully committed,” I replied, grinning. “Though I’m not sure it’ll look anything like the video.”
Rachel lingered, her gaze softening as she watched me arrange the yarn. “I don’t mean to overstep, but... why have you kept doing this, year after year?”
I looked down at the yarn in my hands. “It’s the best way I know to keep Nina with me. Crocheting was one of her favorite things to do.”
She nodded slowly, processing my words. “So, are you always going to love her from a distance?”
I paused, thinking carefully. “No. I think I was waiting to see if there was a way to make it work and bridge this impossible gap. Part of me thought I could keep her safe from a distance, that I didn’t need to disrupt her life again.
” I met Rachel’s gaze, a small, rueful smile tugging at my lips.
“But I don’t think that’s enough anymore.
I couldn’t be who she deserved then, so I went to therapy and got better. ”
Rachel regarded me thoughtfully, her expression softening with sympathy. “I hope it goes well. You’ve never seemed happier, and I’ve worked for you for years.” She chuckled, adding, “Oh, Alex called earlier. He said the guys miss you.”
I laughed, the mention of his name bringing a warmth to my chest. “Tell them I’ll be back soon. I haven’t gone off the map yet.”
Rachel smiled, nodded, and left, the soft click of the door signaling her departure. Alone again, I took a steadying breath, grounding myself in the rhythm of the yarn slipping through my fingers.
Snowflakes signified winter, and Nina was my winter.