Chapter 7 - THE WOMAN WHO WANTED HER ROOM
Vanessa had already decided what to do with Teresa's bedroom.
That was what Luca couldn't get past.
Not the paint colors.
Not the new furniture.
The fact that someone had made plans for his mother's room while she was still sleeping in it.
He held the floor plan beneath the chandelier.
“Mrs. Carter, when did Vanessa give you this?”
“Last Thursday.”
“Did she say Mom had agreed?”
“She said the arrangements were settled.”
Teresa looked at the drawing.
“I never saw that.”
Luca folded it.
“Then it was never settled.”
By the following afternoon, the engagement flowers were still on the dining table.
But the celebration was over.
Vanessa returned to collect her personal belongings.
Luca had asked Daniel to bring her into the dining room first.
He wanted one conversation.
No guests.
No audience.
Only the people whose lives she'd tried to rearrange.
Teresa sat beside me.
Mrs. Carter stood near the doorway.
Vanessa entered wearing a cream-colored coat over a black dress.
She looked tired.
Her eyes were swollen.
For a moment, I almost felt sorry for her.
Then she saw Teresa.
Her expression tightened.
“I didn't realize this would be a family meeting.”
Luca remained standing.
“It concerns my mother. She belongs here.”
Vanessa looked at the empty seat across from him.
“Am I allowed to sit?”
“Yes.”
She sat.
Luca placed the floor plan in front of her.
“Explain this.”
Vanessa studied it.
Then looked up.
“I was planning the east wing.”
“For yourself.”
“For us.”
“My mother's room?”
“Luca, you have thirty bedrooms.”
“Then why did you need hers?”
Vanessa rubbed her forehead.
“Because that's the best suite in the house.”
Teresa lowered her head.
Vanessa saw it.
“I don't mean that cruelly.”
Luca's voice hardened.
“Then explain how you meant it.”
She took a breath.
“I wanted a space where we could start our marriage without feeling like guests in your parents' home.”
Luca stared at her.
“You were going to be my wife, not a visitor.”
“But every important room still belongs to someone else's memories.”
I watched Teresa's face.
She was listening carefully.
Vanessa continued.
“Your father's study stays untouched. Your mother's sitting room has the best view. Even the breakfast room has rules about where everyone sits.”
Luca looked at her.
“Those aren't rules. They're habits.”
“They're habits I wasn't allowed to change.”
“Did you ever ask?”
Vanessa looked away.
“I knew what you'd say.”
“That's not an answer.”
She folded her hands.
Then Luca placed the Briarwood receipt beside the plan.
“Tell me about this.”
Vanessa went still.
“The reservation.”
“Paid with my mother's money.”
“She agreed to contribute.”
“To Emily's wages,” I said.
Vanessa looked at me.
I kept my voice steady.
“That's what you told her.”
Vanessa hesitated.
“I needed her to understand that care costs money.”
“Then why didn't you tell her what she was paying for?”
She didn't answer.
Luca leaned forward.
“You collected twenty-four hundred dollars from my mother. You used it to reserve a room she believed she couldn't afford to refuse.”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“I thought Briarwood would be good for her.”
“Then why lie?”
“Because you would've said no.”
“Did you ever consider asking Mom?”
“I did.”
Teresa looked up.
Vanessa turned toward her.
“You remember our conversation about being lonely?”
Teresa nodded hesitantly.
“I remember.”
“You asked me to help you find somewhere with people your own age.”
Luca looked at his mother.
She said nothing.
Vanessa continued.
“I found a respectable place. A place with activities, nurses nearby, and people to talk to.”
“Then why did you tell her I wanted her gone?” Luca demanded.
Vanessa's composure cracked.
“Because I knew you wouldn't discuss it seriously!”
Her voice rose.
Then she caught herself.
“I spent years watching my mother become responsible for everyone in our family. My grandmother couldn't manage alone. My father traveled constantly. My mother gave up everything.”
She swallowed.
“I used to come home from school and find her crying in the kitchen because she hadn't had one hour to herself.”
Teresa's expression softened.
Vanessa continued.
“When my grandmother finally moved into professional care, my mother was so exhausted she barely knew what to do with her freedom.”
Luca listened.
“I promised myself I'd never let that happen to me.”
He asked quietly, “You thought caring about my mother would do that?”
“I thought if we didn't establish boundaries before the wedding, we'd never establish them.”
Teresa looked wounded.
Vanessa turned toward her.
“I wasn't trying to make you suffer.”
“But you knew I was frightened,” Teresa whispered.
Vanessa stopped.
“I told you I couldn't afford the payments,” Teresa continued.
“I thought you understood—”
“No,” Teresa said softly. “You told me Emily would lose her job.”
Vanessa looked down.
I felt my heart pounding.
Luca asked, “Was that true?”
She shook her head.
“No.”
“Then why say it?”
Vanessa stared at the table.
“Because Emily would've convinced her to stay.”
I closed my eyes.
There it was.
Not a misunderstanding.
A choice.
Vanessa had known I would protect Teresa's right to decide.
So she'd made Teresa believe protecting me required leaving.
Luca stepped back.
“Our engagement is over. That will not change.”
Vanessa nodded.
“I understand.”
But then she looked at Teresa.
“There's one thing you all keep ignoring.”
Luca stopped.
Vanessa's voice was quieter now.
“Your mother asked me about leaving before I ever mentioned rent.”
Teresa's fingers tightened around mine.
Vanessa continued.
“She asked whether there was somewhere she could go and stop feeling lonely.”
Luca turned toward his mother.
“Mom?”
May you like
Teresa stared at the floor.
Then whispered, “That part is true.”
