Chapter 11 - THE MORNING AFTER
The morning sun broke through the clouds, casting a warm, golden light across the Moretti estate.
For the first time in fifteen months, the house didn't feel cold.
I stood in the kitchen, pouring a cup of coffee.
My phone buzzed on the counter.
It was a text from my mother.
The bank just called. Mr. Moretti wired the back pay. Becca... it’s enough to pay off the house. I can’t stop crying.
I smiled, wiping a stray tear from my own cheek.
I love you, Mom. Come over later. He wants to see you.
I grabbed the tray of coffee and walked toward the back patio.
Luca was already outside.
He had traded his tailored black suit for a simple white t-shirt and jeans.
He was holding a shovel.
Next to him, Thomas Reed, the landscaper, was directing a crew.
But they weren't pouring concrete for a wedding terrace.
They were unloading twelve massive, vibrant yellow rosebushes from a delivery truck.
Emma was running between the pots, her laughter echoing across the lawn.
It was a sound I hadn't realized I’d never heard before.
"Mr. Moretti," I said, setting the tray down on the patio table.
He turned and smiled.
It wasn't the polite, distant smile of a boss. It was genuine and tired and relieved.
"Call me Luca, Rebecca. Please. After last night, titles seem a bit ridiculous."
"Luca," I corrected softly. "Coffee is ready."
He walked over, wiping sweat from his brow.
"Did you speak to your mother?"
"I did. She's overwhelmed. She said to tell you she’s forever grateful."
"I'm the one who should be grateful," Luca said, taking a mug. "She took care of my wife when I couldn't."
He looked out at the garden.
David was sitting on the grass, teaching Emma how to weave a flower crown out of dandelions.
"I filed the police report this morning," Luca said quietly.
"What happened to Vanessa?"
"Denied bail. The fraud charges regarding the bank transfer and the forged birth certificate carry a heavy sentence. She won't be seeing the outside of a cell for a very long time."
A wave of final relief washed over me.
"And the wedding?" I asked carefully.
Luca looked down at his coffee.
"Cancelled. Obviously. But to be honest, Rebecca... I never really wanted it."
I frowned slightly. "Then why did you ask her?"
He sighed, leaning against the brick wall.
"I was lonely. Emma was pulling away from me. Vanessa was always just... there. She made it easy. She handled everything so I could just work and grieve. I mistook her control for support."
He looked at me, his dark eyes intense.
"I won't make that mistake again."
Emma suddenly ran up the patio steps, holding a small trowel.
"Miss Rebecca! Daddy said you get to plant the first one!"
I laughed, setting my mug down. "Me? Oh, no, sweetie, that should be your dad."
"I insist," Luca said, handing me a pair of gardening gloves.
I took them, my fingers brushing his again. This time, his skin was warm.
I walked down into the dirt.
The hole was deep, the soil rich and dark.
Together, Emma and I tipped the heavy plastic pot, sliding the roots of a beautiful, blooming yellow rosebush into the earth.
I packed the dirt around the base, making sure it was secure.
"There," I said, sitting back on my heels. "Safe."
"Mommy would like you," Emma said suddenly.
I froze, looking at the little girl.
"I like you, too," Emma added, completely unprompted.
My throat tightened. "I like you too, Emma."
Luca walked over and knelt beside us in the dirt.
He didn't care about his clothes. He didn't care about his image.
He reached out and touched the yellow petals of the new rose.
"Yellow means friendship," Luca said softly.
May you like
He looked at me over the top of the bloom.
"But it also means new beginnings."
