Chapter 8 - THE CHOICE SHE NEVER HAD
Vanessa stared at the crossed-out schedule.
“I wasn't dismissing Emily.”
Luca looked at the note.
“Then what does 'remove from rotation' mean?”
“It means I didn't want her working during the wedding preparations.”
“Why?”
Vanessa glanced toward me.
“Because she has repeatedly challenged my decisions.”
My face burned.
Luca waited.
“Which decisions?”
“She argues whenever I ask her to move your mother's belongings. She interferes in private family conversations.”
Teresa straightened in her chair.
“Emily never interfered.”
Vanessa looked toward her.
“Teresa, please.”
“No, dear.”
The older woman's voice was suddenly firmer than I'd heard all evening.
“I asked Emily to help me.”
Vanessa looked surprised.
Teresa continued.
“I asked her to sit with me when I listened to Antonio. I asked her to protect the photograph.”
She looked toward Luca.
“And when Vanessa took the cassette, Emily was the only person who told her to stop.”
My throat tightened.
Teresa turned toward me.
“You shouldn't lose your job because you were kind to me.”
I couldn't speak.
For months, I'd thought Teresa needed someone to protect her.
But there she was, sitting before the most powerful man in the room, refusing to let me carry the consequences of what had happened.
Luca looked at Vanessa.
“You changed Emily's schedule because she wouldn't help you silence my mother?”
Vanessa shook her head.
“That's a very unfair way to describe it.”
“Then describe it accurately.”
Vanessa's eyes filled.
“I was upset. She contradicted me in front of Teresa, and I thought she would make the wedding preparations more difficult.”
“So you took away her work.”
“I planned to discuss it with Mrs. Carter later.”
Mrs. Carter looked down.
Luca noticed.
“Were you going to discuss it?”
She took a breath.
“I was told the decision had already been made.”
Vanessa looked away.
Luca placed the schedule on the table.
“Emily will work her regular shifts if she wants them. Any wages lost because of this decision will be restored.”
I nodded.
“Thank you, sir.”
He shook his head.
“You shouldn't have had to thank me for that.”
Then he turned back toward Vanessa.
“I need to understand something.”
She looked tired.
“What?”
“You told my mother she should move. You removed her photograph. You tried to give away Dad's watch. You told her not to attend our wedding ceremony.”
He paused.
“And you tried to dismiss the one person who objected.”
Vanessa wiped her cheek.
“Luca, I know how it sounds.”
“Then tell me what I'm missing.”
For several seconds, she looked at the floor.
Finally, she said, “I wanted to be your wife, not another person living in your parents' home.”
Teresa flinched.
Vanessa continued.
“Every room has a story about Antonio. Every family meal has a memory. I kept wondering when there would be room for something that belonged to us.”
Luca glanced toward the photograph.
“Why didn't you ask me to help you make that room?”
“I did. You kept saying we'd talk after the wedding.”
He lowered his eyes.
That part was true.
I'd heard him postpone decisions about redecorating and household routines more than once.
He was often away on business.
Vanessa had gradually taken over the arrangements.
And nobody wanted to bother him with small disagreements.
Except those disagreements hadn't stayed small.
Luca looked up.
“I let you make too many decisions without asking enough questions.”
Vanessa nodded.
“Yes.”
“But you knew I never asked you to send my mother away.”
She didn't answer.
He leaned forward.
“Vanessa, look at me.”
She did.
“Did you ever tell Mom that moving to the cottage was your idea?”
Her eyes dropped.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because I thought she'd refuse.”
Teresa looked at her.
“I might have.”
Vanessa's face reddened.
“Exactly.”
Teresa's voice remained steady.
“Then perhaps you should have accepted my answer.”
For a moment, the two women looked at each other.
I thought Vanessa might argue.
Instead, she whispered, “I was afraid I'd never feel at home here.”
Teresa nodded sadly.
“So you made sure I didn't.”
The words landed harder than anything Luca had said.
Vanessa covered her eyes.
Nobody spoke while she cried.
Then Michael Hart quietly approached from the sideboard.
“Mr. Moretti?”
Luca turned.
Michael held the cassette carefully between two fingers.
“I've completed the first splice. The recording is stable enough for a cautious transfer.”
Teresa leaned forward.
“Can we hear him?”
“Not yet. I want to check the damaged section first.”
He looked at her.
“I'd rather make one careful transfer than risk repeated playback.”
She nodded.
“Of course.”
Michael returned to his equipment.
Luca reached for his mother's hand.
“Mom, why didn't you tell me you didn't want to move?”
Teresa looked down.
“Because I thought you'd finally found someone to share your life with.”
“That doesn't answer my question.”
She smiled sadly.
“Perhaps it does.”
Luca's expression tightened.
She continued.
“I remember how lonely you were after your father died. You worked too much. You stopped coming to Sunday dinner. Sometimes I heard you walking around late at night.”
His eyes filled.
“When Vanessa arrived, you started laughing again.”
Luca looked toward his former fiancée.
Teresa continued.
“I didn't want to be the reason that happiness disappeared.”
“Mom, you couldn't have been.”
“I didn't know that.”
She reached into her purse.
Then placed a small brass key on the table.
A short piece of blue yarn was tied around it.
I recognized the key.
The garden cottage.
Vanessa had given it to Teresa a few days earlier.
Luca picked it up.
“What's this?”
Teresa looked embarrassed.
“My new key.”
“Mom—”
“Vanessa said I should start getting used to keeping my things over there.”
Luca closed his hand around it.
Teresa looked at the photograph of Antonio.
“I was going to leave most of his belongings here. I thought perhaps you'd want to decide what to do with them.”
Luca shook his head.
“No.”
She hesitated.
“There's something else.”
He looked at her.
“When I asked whether I could still come here for dinner, Vanessa said that would probably be fine.”
Luca's jaw tightened.
May you like
Teresa's voice broke.
“She told me I could come back on Sundays, as long as I called first.”
