Chapter Thirty-four
NINA
Present Day
NEW YORK CITY
I never knew Ronan Emanuel Romano to be a liar.
If anything, he was always painfully honest.
So when we spoke months ago at Dillon’s gala or when he showed up at my office weeks later, I knew he meant every word he said. That truth was what made everything harder.
Still, the guilt crept in. The relentless question of whether it had been my fault he left.
I replayed our memories, dissecting every look and every conversation, searching for something I might have missed.
I had loved him with everything I had, but doubt lingered.
Could I have been more patient? More understanding?
But then I remembered everything I did and the magnitude of all I had given up. I thought about how often I had swallowed my own needs to keep the peace, just to keep him. Back then, when he was distant and hiding behind silence, it had been easier to hurt from afar.
Now he was here.
With all I knew. With everything I still felt. With him simply being Ronan.
I had no idea what to do with that.
Through everything I had expected from him, this level of extravagance had never been one of them.
My living room and boutique were overflowing with peonies, love letters stuffed into shoe boxes, and enough gifts for a hundred special occasions.
Not to mention the random visits to say hi, even though I knew he was busy running an empire and a hospital.
Somehow, that made it all feel even more intimate.
On my flight to New York, I sat beside Inaya, replaying Dillon’s gala livestream for what felt like the hundredth time while she searched for a necklace she had spotted. When Ronan’s name was called by the reporters, I leaned closer to the screen.
There he was.
Charcoal suit with midnight blue accents. Shiny black shoes catching the light. Hair perfectly styled. He looked exactly like the man I remembered, commanding without even trying.
The paparazzi asked about his date. Part of me expected him to mention an assistant or some convenient plus-one, but his answer hit harder than I was ready for.
“You’ll notice the most gorgeous Afro-Italian woman in the room.”
Inaya’s eyes flicked to mine, and I looked away because we were both thinking the same thing.
Ronan had already taken up too much space in my head, and now he was making it worse, threading himself through every anxious thought about my expansion. Between endless phone calls and Google searches for the perfect location, nothing was sticking. Every promising lead slipped through my fingers.
With only two weeks left to finalize the Eminence contract, secure a boutique space, and get the project off the ground, I was still at square one in a city that felt far too saturated to give me what I needed.
“Inaya,” I called out as she buckled her seatbelt, her optimism starkly contrasting my growing pessimism, “I hope your faith works wonders because we need a miracle to find a boutique in the next two weeks.”
“Pessimist,” she teased, flashing a reassuring smile.
“Realist,” I retorted, chuckling despite my doubts as the plane took off.
Three hours later, we arrived in the city and headed straight to our Airbnb—the Penthouse Suite at Smyth Tribeca, Inaya’s choice. Its sleek design and panoramic views lifted our spirits, offering a brief escape from our chaotic mission.
After settling in, we rushed to meet with the Eminence team.
Though our lawyers had already green-lit the proposal, I refused to leave anything to chance.
I personally delivered the documents, navigating their online portal and confirming every detail until I was satisfied that everything was exactly as it should be.
That was when Ronan slipped back into my thoughts.
I remembered his laughter, the two of us sprawled on a blanket beside a lake, sharing strawberries and sparkling water. The way his fingers had brushed a loose strand of hair from my face. The moment felt endless.
Then I jolted awake.
My heart raced as I took in the sunlight spilling through the curtains. Late afternoon. I grabbed my phone. I slept the entire day away.
“Inaya?” I called, pushing the covers aside. No answer. The suite was quiet. In the living room, the dining table was scattered with my design sketches and fabric swatches, proof that she had been busy while I had been lost in my own head.
I sat, still half caught in the dream, and picked up a pencil. I tried to sketch, to find the same spark that had driven me earlier, but Ronan lingered in every line I drew. That memory by the lake would not let go, and suddenly it felt less like a dream and more like a nudge.
A reminder of what could be.
Before I could talk myself out of it, I grabbed my phone.
Me:
Hi.
Me:
It’s Nina. Let’s do that date.
His reply came almost immediately.
RR:
Hey. Does Friday work?
Me:
It’s perfect.
RR:
Thank you.
Me:
For what?
RR:
For giving me this chance.
I stared at the screen, a nervous, electric warmth spreading through me.
“I hope it’s worth it,” I whispered.
Turning back to my sketches, I focused on my designs, pouring my emotions into the intricate lines and shapes on the paper. The hours passed in a blur until I realized it was late. With a sigh, I set aside my work and dialed my mom’s number.
“Ciao mamma!” I greeted warmly as she picked up. “I landed earlier but fell asleep right away. How are you?”
“Mia cara,” my mother replied, her voice filled with warmth. “I called Aya when I couldn’t reach you. How are you?”
I chuckled. “I’m good. Tired, but good.”
“How’s the city? Enjoying it?”
“It’s been fine, but it’ll get busier. I’m working on something exciting.”
“That sounds wonderful, sweetheart. I’m so proud of you. What about… other things? How’s everything else?”
I hesitated, thoughts drifting to Ronan and the date I agreed to. “I… might have a date soon,” I admitted, a mix of excitement and nervousness rising in me.
“A date?” She perked up. “Con chi?57”
“Ronan,” I said quietly, as if sharing a secret. “It’s been… complicated.”
There was a pause before she responded, and I knew how she felt about him, especially after everything that had happened. “Ronan? Romano?”
“Yeah, that Ronan,” I confirmed, smiling to myself. “It’s been a while, but maybe it’s worth another shot.”
Her tone softened. “Sometimes, Nina, life gives us second chances. Take your time, follow your heart. Whatever happens, I’m here for you.”
Was she broken? This must have been the year of unexpectedness because I never expected her to be so calm…
“I wasn’t expecting that answer,” I admitted.
“You’re a grown woman, Nina. And you’re much stronger than you were five years ago. I trust you to make your own decisions. I’ll be here if you need anything.”
“Thanks, Mom,” I said, feeling grateful for her words. “I’ll let you know how it goes.”
“Please do, dear. Remember, you deserve happiness.”
After hanging up, I sank into my seat, gazing at the skyline. Instead of doubt, excitement bubbled up, a flutter of anticipation for what might come with Ronan.
Inaya breezed in, balancing bags of dinner and shopping finds. “Nina! Sorry, I disappeared on you earlier,” she said, setting everything down. “I went exploring, found some amazing stores, and this gem of a restaurant.”
“Wow, without me?” I teased.
Inaya grinned. “Sorry! I was bored, and you were out cold. Took an Uber and wandered.”
I chuckled, listening as she animatedly recounted her day. “I hate how crowded it is here,” she said, passing me a burger and fries, which were surprisingly some of my favorites.
“Said every Italian ever,” I added, biting into some chips.
“So, about this trip,” Inaya asked, leaning forward. “Why do we need a base here again?”
“Based on the partnership agreement, which is five years, it’s too much travel to do from Florence, plus we needed to expand.”
Inaya’s eyes lit up. “I’m excited, but it’s bittersweet.”
I nodded, pride swelling. “It’s a huge opportunity, but first, we need a boutique. Once we have that, the rest will fall into place.”
“Aren’t you optimistic?” she teased.
I shrugged with a laugh. “Your faith is rubbing off on me.”
“It should,” she said, sitting beside me and removing her hijab. “You’ve worked so hard. Cut yourself some slack.”
“Thanks for everything, Aya,” I said, gratitude filling my heart.
“Always,” she replied, heading to the shower. “I’ll be back.”
I finished my food and returned to the dining table to finish sketches for Louis Vuitton.
After sending the mock copy sometime last week, they had a few recommendations, so I decided to tackle them.
The table was cluttered with sketches, fabric samples, and colored pencils.
I pushed aside the remnants of dinner, focusing on the task at hand.
The room was quiet, save for the occasional scratch of my pencil against the paper.
I assumed Inaya had fallen asleep, as I didn’t hear her come out after forty-five minutes.
Outside, the night had deepened, casting a soft glow through the window from the streetlights below.
The atmosphere was perfect for creativity, and I lost myself in the process of refining the designs.
As I worked, my thoughts kept drifting to my upcoming date with Ronan. A flutter of nerves danced in my stomach, distracting me from the sketches. I paused, staring at the half-finished drawing in front of me.
Why was I feeling this way?
I leaned back, exhaling slowly. The mix of anticipation and nerves confused me. Maybe it was the time that had passed since we last dated or the unresolved emotions from how things ended. A part of me still held onto the memories, the good and the bad.
Ronan had always known how to get under my skin, making me feel things I wasn’t prepared for—his charm, his confidence, his passion. He made me question everything I thought I knew about myself.
Shaking my head, I refocused on the winter collection.
I couldn’t let my personal life interfere with my work.
But even as I drew, my mind kept drifting back to him—his smile, his laugh, the warmth of his hand in mine.
I wondered if he was feeling the same way, if he was as nervous about our date. The thought made me smile.
Whatever happened with Ronan, I would face it head-on, like I always had. After all, he was another part of my story, another chapter in the life I was creating.
One I hoped was worth it.
I prayed to God Ronan wouldn’t break my heart again.