CHAPTER 26
Caroline
“Great to see you after so long,” Ethan beams, hauling Celina into a bear hug that lifts her half an inch off the floor. “How long’s it been? Six months? More?”
“Oh, so only Celina?” I cut in, a hand to my chest in mock offense.
“Of course, for you too, Kitty.” Ethan swings toward me with open arms.
I elbow him square in the ribs.
“Ouch… hey! Violence?” he yowls.
“Retire the nickname and we’ll talk.” I hug him anyway, squeezing hard enough to make him grunt. Some habits die hard. Some people just feel like home.
“How I’ve missed you,” Deba says, sliding in next, her hug soft and warm. “How’s London treating you?”
“Same chaos, different skyline.” I pull back to look at her, taking in the glow. “And how is it that you look ethereal in the middle of wedding prep, while…” I point at Ethan, “this one looks like he got hit by a delivery truck?”
Ethan scoffs. “Love the support. Truly.”
It’s Gigi’s birthday and engagement party, because of course she’d fuse two milestones into one spectacular event.
The restaurant perches on a hill above the Marina District, windows open to the San Francisco dusk, the Bay glittering like someone spilled diamonds across the water.
Celina and I flew in last night, jetlag clinging like static, but the energy here burns through it fast.
Ethan, naturally, heard about my run-in with Brandon. He took it personally, called Brandon and told him that if he ever so much as breathed in my direction again, he’d introduce Brandon to the bottom of the Bay.
Ridiculous. Overprotective. Entirely Ethan. I’m surrounded by people who love loudly, protect fiercely, and show up without asking permission.
Loss has many names. And every single one of them is valid. That’s what I carried out of my third session with Connor’s therapist, Dr. Phiri - his words trailing me like a coat I wasn’t sure fit but couldn’t quite take off.
The first session was brutal. I walked in and some invisible wall slammed down so fast I barely recognized my own voice.
I left feeling both numb and flayed open, like I’d been asked to perform vulnerability on command and failed spectacularly.
I went straight to Connor. I don’t cry easily anymore, so when a few tears slipped out, it rattled him more than anything I could’ve said.
Connor’s the one who convinced me to go back.
The second session wasn’t good, but it wasn’t unbearable. I stayed guarded, measuring every word, leaving long silences where the truth should have been. At least I didn’t feel like I was drowning.
By the third, Connor insisted on coming. Mother hen that he is. He waited outside, pretending to scroll through his phone, but I knew he was listening for my footsteps in the hallways. It should’ve annoyed me. Instead, it felt like a safety net I didn’t have to look at to know it was there.
Inside, something loosened. Not a breakthrough, just a knot easing, a breath coming easier.
Dr. Phiri barely spoke. He just listened.
And I didn’t say much either, so I’m not entirely sure what he was listening to - my pauses, maybe, or the things I couldn’t quite bring myself to say.
But when I walked out, the pressure in my chest had shifted just enough to notice.
“The Queen is here!” Gigi squeals, launching herself at me from behind. Her arms lock around my shoulders, her weight hanging off me like a backpack.
“Hi, baby girl,” I laugh. “When did you turn into a clingy koala?”
I haven’t seen her since Lake Como. Back then, tucked between celebrations, I told Connor I’d been keeping a secret that wasn’t mine to share. A week later, he showed up in London for business and planned to surprise me at lunch, only to see Celina leaving my office.
He didn’t get angry. He just… understood. He thanked me for being there for Celina when he couldn’t, when anger had hollowed him out too deeply to see anything else.
Love reshaped him. I can see it so clearly. Celina loved him with a kind of devotion that felt almost protective, and I think part of her still does. And Connor still loves her with every broken, stubborn piece of himself. Losing her didn’t harden him; it made him kinder, softer.
I don’t know if I’m capable of loving like that. Or if anyone could ever love me that way.
“I can’t believe you let Edoardo escape,” Stefano says, kissing my cheek. “I trusted you to drag him here by the collar.”
I shrug. “What was I supposed to do? Kidnap him? He had travel. You know how he is.”
“So disappointing,” Gigi sighs dramatically. “How am I supposed to trust you with wedding planning help? Celina can’t manage me alone.”
“Says the woman who never visited me until she got a fiancé with better travel perks,” I shoot back.
She clutches her chest. “Betrayal! I invite you to my party and you slander me.”
We dissolve into laughter and overlapping chatter. I drift between groups, buoyed by the noise and warmth, until Adam calls out.
“Kitty, come.”
I shoot him a look sharp enough to slice glass but excuse myself and head over. Ethan converges from the other side, both of them clearly up to something.
“Sit,” Adam says, sliding a whiskey cocktail toward me. “And no, your little cat growl doesn’t scare me anymore.”
“Wow,” Ethan adds, smirking. “You’ve lost your edge, Caroline.”
“Oh? And you’ve grown a death wish?” I take the glass. “What do you two want?”
Adam leans forward, elbows on knees. “We want to know what’s going on between you and certain Italian boy. You talk to Connor all the time, but there are four of us. We refuse to be emotionally neglected.”
“I don’t leave you out,” I say. “You’ve never asked about my love life before. Why the sudden interest?”
“Because before it was just pretty boys you ran circles around,” Adam says lightly. “Now it’s different. He’s the real deal, isn’t he?”
I narrow my eyes. “Define real deal.”
“You met a man who turned you into a loving chihuahua.”
I launch at him before he finishes the sentence. “A chihuahua? I will end you.”
He yelps, laughing as he blocks me easily. “See? Violent affection!”
“Wait,” I say, catching my breath. “You’ve been training.”
“Connor,” Ethan says. “He’s been here a lot more.”
“Talking about me behind my back?” Connor slides into the seat next to me.
“It’s not always about you,” Adam snorts. “Back to the Italian. When are you telling us what’s actually happening?”
“And when are you admitting you’re in a relationship?” Ethan adds.
I open my mouth, but Connor’s gaze stops me. “Cara,” he says quietly, “learn from my mistake. Don’t hide from what you feel.”
The truth is… things with Edoardo are hard to define. I feel like myself around him, happy, grounded, unguarded, unbraced. When we’re apart, I reach for him without thinking. My mind drifts to his voice, his warmth, the way his face softens when he sleeps.
We’re compatible in ways that go far beyond physicals attraction.
It’s effortless, natural, almost suspiciously so.
That’s the simplest truth. But I don’t let myself look too closely at what it means.
I’ve spent years learning not to measure myself through someone else’s gaze, not to yearn for anyone’s attention, not to twist myself into shapes to secure any affection.
It’s one of the few things I trust about who I’ve become.
These days, I don’t go to bareknuckle fights much.
I box, I run, I surf, I keep things cleaner, more controlled.
Though, if I’m being honest, Edoardo is not exactly a positive influence on my discipline.
Every morning when I try to slip out to go for a run or cross train, his arms find my waist and pull me back, and suddenly the plan dissolves into laughter and tangled sheets and the kind of laziness that feels earned.
And I’m just as guilty - I never try that hard to escape.
I care about Edoardo. More than I say out loud. More than I probably let him see. More than any guy in a very long time. And that terrifies me in a way I don’t like to examine too closely.
And what I’m starting to feel is not easy for me to admit, even to myself.
Confidence and insecurity live side by side in me, switching places without warning. One moment I know exactly who I am and what I deserve; the next, I’m quietly unsure of how much space I’m allowed to take up in someone else’s life.
So, I hold back and I wait. I don’t say anything. Not until something is said. Not until something is done that makes the truth undeniable.
Until then, I stay exactly where I am - feeling everything, revealing only what feels safe, and pretending patience is a choice instead of a shield.
Because wanting someone is easy. But letting them see how much you want them, that’s the risk.
And I’m still deciding how brave I am willing to be.