Chapter 51 Catharsis
Catharsis
Papa said that maybe we can visit the States next year! We could meet up and spend the summer together. —Yay, Izzy
Izzy
“How did that make you feel?”
I swallow hard, pausing to really consider Doctor Morgan’s question.
“I feel… a little lighter, I guess.” I shrug, the words uncertain.
She nods through the screen, her sleek hair bobbing with the movement. “Last week you barely spoke to me. This week you seem more forthcoming. So, the memorial helped?”
I blow out a breath. “Yeah, it did. Naming them made it more real. Gave me some closure. And it helped knowing Enzo was struggling too—I thought I was drowning alone.”
“I imagine it’s hard when you don’t grieve in the same way.”
“Yeah. Plus… I haven’t really had anyone to talk to. With Tess having the baby, we didn’t want to ruin things.”
Doctor Morgan smirks. “Well… you have me. Don’t forget that. And what about Noemi? Have you spoken to her at all?”
Guilt floods me. I haven’t spoken to her, haven’t returned any of her calls—there’ve been plenty. I just… couldn’t handle her sunshine when I was so far in the dark.
I admit as much.
She waits.
I groan. “I know, I know. Saying it out loud makes it sound stupid. I need her positive energy.”
“So perhaps your homework this week is to give her a call. Maybe even meet in person, if you’re up for it.”
“Yeah. Okay.”
Her expression shifts. “How is the anger now that all the men who hurt you are gone? Has it had the effect you wanted?”
I narrow my eyes. “I know you want me to say no. To admit murder isn’t the answer. But… yes. God, yes.”
She laughs, shaking her head. “I’m glad it was the catharsis you needed—however you got there.”
There’s a knock on the office door, then a feminine shout: “You can’t hide from me forever, Isolde Russo!”
“Ah. That’s Noemi. The ignored calls must’ve gotten to her.”
“Speak to you next week,” Doctor Morgan says before the call clicks off.
“I’m coming, don’t be so needy!” I shout back, standing and swinging open the door.
Noemi takes one look at my baggy sweats, oversized top, no makeup, and messy hair. “My god.” She grabs my hand. “Spill it. Now, missy.”
I sigh, raking a hand through my unruly hair. “Come on.”
We head outside and sit on the patio.
“Why haven’t you been returning my calls?” she asks, hurt lacing her tone. “I just wanted to know you were okay after the kidnapping.”
I drop my head to the table, then look up, resting my chin on folded arms. “I lost the baby.”
Other than Enzo and Massimo—and Doctor Morgan, of course—she’s the only person I’ve told. Saying the words out loud is like a gunshot to the stomach, nausea curling inside me.
“Oh, Iz.” Her hand covers mine, stroking gently. “I’m so sorry.”
I lean back in the chair. “I didn’t mean to ignore you. I just… couldn’t. Today’s the first time I’ve opened up about it, even with my therapist.”
“Not even with Enzo?”
“We had a little memorial. Named the baby. That helped.”
She nods, solemn. “It’s going to be okay. You’re so strong.”
We sit and chat for a while, steering away from the heavy stuff. She launches into her latest dating escapades instead.
“Oh! Did I tell you I met that nurse who treated your gunshot wound?”
I shake my head, barely remembering.
Noemi waves a dismissive hand. “Anyway—you’ll never guess what.”
“What?”
“Turns out she’s Gio Santorini’s estranged sister.”
My brows shoot up. “How do you know?”
“She told me, duh.”
“Why?”
“Because we were on a date and—”
“You went on a date with Gio’s sister?”
“Yes. Keep up.”
Footsteps sound just before Enzo appears through the sliding doors.
“Noemi,” he greets, nodding at her.
“Boss.” She sits a little straighter.
“Can I speak to my wife?”
Noemi stands. I do too. “Talk soon, okay?” She quirks a polished brow at me.
“Yes. Promise.”
She leaves.
Enzo tilts his head. “How was therapy?”
“Good, actually. I feel better today.”
“You seem better, Cuore mio. I’m glad.”
I step into his embrace, but he holds himself back.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, chewing my lip.
He smiles down at me, then steps back. “Nothing’s wrong. I just have a present for you.”
He starts stripping off his shirt.
“I don’t think sex—”
He snorts. “It’s not sex.” He pumps his brows. “Unless…”
I roll my eyes. “Just show me the present, Tesoro.”
Once his shirt’s off, I understand. My eyes widen at the plastic wrap and bandage over his right bicep.
“You got a new tattoo?”
He nods, peeling the covering away.
Marcus’s torture destroyed the one over his heart—my name. Another thing he ruined.
My breath catches when I see it.
An infinity symbol sprawls across his arm, the letters I and E curled inside its loops. Underneath, the words: Cuore mio. My heart. His name for me. Always.
Then he opens his palm out to me. My necklace sits there—the one Marcus tore from my body.
My eyes sting. “I—” I shake my head. “I love you.”
He takes my chin, lifting it gently, and presses his lips to mine. “Infinitely.”