Chapter 8 - THE HEALING OF THE HOUSE
I turned around.
Luca was standing in the hallway. His eyes were red, his face exhausted, but the oppressive weight that had hung over him for weeks was gone.
“You’re leaving?” he asked.
“My assignment is over, Mr. Romano,” I said softly. “You aren’t sick. You don’t have dementia. You don’t need a nurse.”
He looked at my medical bag.
“Maybe I don’t need a nurse,” he said. “But I think this family needs you.”
I shook my head. “Luca, I kept a massive secret from you. I manipulated my way into your home. You can’t trust me.”
He walked closer.
“You manipulated your way into my home to save my life,” Luca corrected. “You watched my coffee. You found the label. You pushed back against a doctor and a lawyer who were trying to destroy me. You didn’t do that for money. You did that because you understand what it means to honor a dying spouse’s wish.”
I looked down. He was right.
“William would be proud of you,” Luca said gently.
“Anna would be proud of you,” I replied, looking up at him. “She loved you enough to carry the darkness so you could stay in the light.”
Luca smiled, a sad, beautiful smile.
He reached into his pocket.
He pulled out the chipped white coffee mug.
He looked at it for a long moment, tracing the faded blue stripe with his thumb.
Then he walked over to the hallway console table.
He opened the bottom drawer—the one filled with old family photo albums and mementos—and he placed the mug gently inside.
He closed the drawer.
“I’m done drinking from the past,” Luca said.
He turned back to me.
“Stay, Rebecca. Just for dinner. No medication. No secrets. Just a normal dinner.”
I looked at his outstretched hand.
I smiled.
“Okay,” I said. “Just dinner.”
Six months later.
The Romano house was loud.
Anthony was in the kitchen, arguing good-naturedly with Maria about how much garlic belonged in the pasta sauce.
The house hadn’t been sold. Anthony had officially taken over the deed, but he insisted that Maria stay in the guest wing for as long as she wanted. For the first time in her life, Maria walked through the halls without jumping at shadows. She had started a garden in the backyard, far away from the driveway.
Arthur Reynolds was in federal prison, awaiting trial for murder and extortion.
Dr. Callahan had lost his medical license and retired in disgrace, though Luca had chosen not to press charges, recognizing the doctor had been manipulated by Maria’s desperate pleas.
I walked into the dining room carrying a stack of plates.
Luca was already there, pouring wine into the glasses.
He looked up and smiled when he saw me.
He looked ten years younger. The silver in his hair was still there, but the stress lines around his eyes had softened.
“You know, you don’t have to set the table,” Luca said, taking the plates from me. “We have staff for that.”
“I like setting the table,” I teased. “It keeps me humble.”
He laughed, wrapping an arm around my waist and pulling me close.
He kissed my forehead.
“I have something for you,” he said softly.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small, velvet box.
My heart skipped a beat.
“Luca, no,” I started.
“Relax,” he smiled. “It’s not a ring. We’re taking our time, remember?”
He opened the box.
Inside was a beautiful, vintage silver watch.
“It belonged to William,” Luca said.
I gasped. I reached out and touched the worn leather strap.
“I found it at a pawn shop downtown,” Luca explained. “The owner said a private investigator sold it to him twenty years ago to buy a necklace for his wife.”
Tears immediately flooded my eyes.
William had sold his favorite watch to buy my anniversary gift. And I never knew.
“How did you find it?” I whispered.
“I have resources,” Luca said gently. “You gave me back my life, Rebecca. The least I could do was give you back a piece of yours.”
I threw my arms around his neck, burying my face in his shoulder.
He held me tightly, his chin resting on top of my head.
Anthony walked into the dining room carrying a massive bowl of pasta.
“Food is ready!” Anthony announced loudly, then paused, seeing us hugging. He smiled knowingly and set the bowl down. “Whenever you two are done being adorable.”
Maria followed closely behind with the bread, laughing.
I pulled back from Luca, wiping my eyes, but I couldn’t stop smiling.
We sat down at the table together.
Not as a nurse and a patient.
May you like
Not as a boss and an employee.
But as a family that had survived the fire, and had finally learned how to build something beautiful from the ashes.
