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"It's a choice. My choice. My clan depends on me," I explain.
"Do you ever regret your choices?" she asks.
"Regret is a luxury, Ella. I can't afford to dwell on what might have been. I focus on what needs to be done."
"I don't understand everything about your world," she confesses, "but I want to. I want to be here, with you."
Her words warm me inside, and I wrap my arms around her. I want her here too. "You will, now that you have opened your heart to all of it." As we sit there, entwined and sharing breaths, I realize that understanding doesn't always require unraveling.
Sometimes, silence says it all.
Chapter Thirty-Five
ELLA
A few days later
Ilook at Tommaso’s arm on my lap. I love to look at him. I just can’t get enough of him.
We are sitting at the table, having dinner, eating ravioli that he told me were the best in town and only made at Flaco’s. He keeps eyeing me as I eat it, anticipating my reaction.
“Mhm… so-so.” I lie. They are some of the best I’ve ever tasted. Honestly.
“Come on! Seriously?” he throws his hands up. “Not five-stars review-worthy?” He jokes.
“They’re yummy. I’m messing with you,” I speak with my mouth full. “And yes, they are five-star review-worthy.” He smiles and eats another forkful. A few seconds later he speaks again.
"Ella… you've never really talked about why you chose to be a journalist," he says cautiously, his voice gentle as if he knows he’s tugging at my weak strings. I take a deep breath, the weight of memories settling into the quiet space between us.
"I think it all started when I was a child and experienced the abusive relationship between my father and my mother. I didn’t fully understand what was going on, but I felt the injustice of it all and wanted to scream it to the world, for people to listen and do something about it. But it really started as a desire in high school," I begin, the words carrying the grief of a past that has shaped me as a journalist. "My best friend, Jenn. She was incredible—vibrant, full of life. We were inseparable."
Jenn's laughter, the bond we shared, and the carefree days that now exist only in the corridors of memory. I feel a lump in my throat.
"And then there was Liam," I continue, the name carrying a weight of bitterness. "He was her boyfriend at the time… a control freak and a pain in the ass. When she decided to leave him, things took a dark turn. I never got the chance to…" I grit my teeth and squeeze my eyes shut. I can feel Tommaso listening intently.
"Liam couldn't accept the fact that she was moving on," my gaze is fixed on a point in the distance.
"He was jealous, and one night, he decided to take Jenn's life. He stabbed her… three freaking times.” My eyes well up. Tommaso puts his hand on mine and I continue.
“Instead of sympathizing with the victim, the media portrayed the whole thing as some twisted adolescent love story that got out of grip. They almost justified his actions." Tommaso's expression remains composed, his eyes fixed on mine.
“I’m so sorry.” He whispers.
"On Jenn's grave, I made a promise," I continue, my voice steady despite the surge of emotions. "I promised her that I would get justice, that I would ensure her story was told the right way. That's why I became a journalist— it’s my way of seeking justice for Jenn." A quiet understanding passes between us, the unspoken acknowledgment of the pain I am feeling. He rubs my hand and I feel lighter. As if sharing my past has lifted a burden off my shoulders.
"You know… it hasn't been easy," I admit, my eyes meeting his. "The media industry is toxic, and my idiot of a boss, Frank, is a pervert. I've had to put up with his disgusting and unrequited flirting for ages but I can’t resign, for Jenn. I have to keep my promise to my best friend."
Tommaso's gaze darkens and he raises his eyebrows. “Frank?”
"I didn't tell you because I don’t want you to feel like you have to fix everything for me," I confess, a weakness seeping into my words. "But now, knowing you have the authority, I can't keep it to myself any longer. He has harassed and abused multiple women in and, I’m damn sure, outside the office too. He needs to be held accountable for his actions."
Tommaso's expression tightens, a flicker of determination crossing his features. "No one should have to endure that," he declares. "You don't have to fight this battle alone. I'll take care of Frank." He caresses my cheek. I lean into his hand.
"I miss Jenn," I say after a minute of silence. "We had plans, dreams, and then it was all taken away. Sometimes, it feels like she's still there, just out of reach." His hand tightens around mine. I want to let it all out.
"I used to believe in this simple view of the world, pure evil and pure good," I continue, my gaze drifting to the window as if searching for answers in the blue sky. "And then," I add, my voice softening as I look back at him, "I met you. You, with your complexities and contradictions. It made me realize that people can't be neatly categorized into boxes of good or evil. It's about intentions, about choices, about… who we are at heart." His gaze lingers on mine and his lips curl into a smile. I put my forehead against his. He hugs me close.
"You changed me," I admit, a smile playing on my lips. "You showed me that sometimes, if you want to keep the good alive, you have to be bad in someone’s story.”
