I nod again, slower this time.“Yes…I do.I mean, they still deserve care.I try to understand why they act the way they do.”
She raises a brow.“Exactly.You don’t stop being a healer because the patient has claws.I don’t stop being a therapist because someone carries a gun.As long as I can help, I’m doing my job.I’m doing good.That’s what matters to me.”
Something clicks.It’s like exhaling after holding my breath for weeks.I don’t have to lose myself to be with Damiano.I don’t have to become cruel or numb or complicit.I just have to hold onto the part of me that wants to do good, and use his power to amplify it.I can help, even in this world.Especially in this world.
“I think I get it,” I whisper.
Dr.Stone smiles again, softer this time.“You don’t have to become like him, Lily.You simply have to love him with your eyes open.And decide who you want to be beside him, if you want to be beside him.”
I nod, and for the first time since everything shattered, I feel like I am finally putting the pieces of myself back together.
Not to be who I was before, but to be someone stronger.
* * * *
There is one more loose thread I need to deal with.
I am sitting in a quiet café downtown, my hands curled around a warm mug of coffee that I’ve barely touched.My nerves are frayed, and every tick of the clock sounds louder than it should.
When Sophia walks in, the tension in my chest tightens.But then she sees me and her face lights up with that radiant, maternal warmth that’s so uniquely hers.I rise to greet her and she pulls me into a warm, familiar hug.
“Tesoro, thank you for the invitation, I was so anxious to see you.Butmi figliois worse than a pit bull, preventing anyone from coming near you.”She rolls her eyes dramatically.I let out a breathy laugh, grateful for her levity.We sit and order breakfast, but my stomach is too knotted to feel hungry.Her expression softens as she watches me.“How are you coping?”Her soft voice is laced with concern.
I shrug.“I am okay, I guess.I’m having therapy, and it is helping a lot.I mean…” I falter.“I was only held for a night.The other women… They were there for days.I don’t even know how they’re holding themselves together.Sometimes I feel like I don’t deserve to be this shaken.”My gaze drops to my coffee, and I tighten my fingers around the cup.
Sophia slides her hand across the table to take mine “Tesoro…” she says.“Trauma isn’t a competition.What you experienced was real.It was terrifying.And your pain is valid, no matter how long it lasted.”I give her a grateful, fragile smile, then draw in a breath, steeling myself.
“Sophia, there is something I need to confess.”Her brows lift slightly, curiosity flickering behind her calm expression.“I…like you a lot, this is why I can’t keep pretending.Damiano and I are not engaged,” I blurt out.I look at her, but her face is blank, giving nothing away.
“I… He asked me to pretend, probably to put your mind at ease.And I said yes.I didn’t know you then, and I didn’t think it would matter.”I falter again.“But it does.Because I respect you, and I am so sorry.Please don’t be angry at him.He meant well.If anyone’s to blame, it’s me.I am the one that shouldn’t have agreed to lie, no matter the intentions behind it.”She’s still quiet, and the silence stretches too long.My throat tightens with shame.I lower my gaze, heart sinking.“I am sorry,” I whisper.“Truly.”
I feel her squeeze my hand and look up.She is smiling at me.“Lily.”Her voice is soft and kind.“I see how he looks at you.Believe me, nothing about that is pretend.”
“But…we are not engaged.We never were.”Her smile turns mysterious and I can’t help but ramble on.“I…I don’t really know what I am to him.His mistress.He probably didn’t want you to think badly of him and…” I trail off.
“Do you really think Damiano is the kind of person who cares what people think of him?”She chuckles.
I frown.“No, but you are his mother, surely your opinion—”
“Child,” she cuts me off, amusement dancing in her voice.“The last time I tried to push him into meeting a woman, he all but forcefully shipped me back to Italy.I am his mother, but that is not keeping him from being his overbearing self.”
I have to laugh.“He can be infuriating at times.”
She laughs too, mirth in her eyes.A weight lifts from my shoulders.I don’t really know where I stand with Damiano, nor how he sees me.But I know I haven’t lost Sophia, and that matters more than I expected.
“Can I ask you a very personal question?”I ask shyly, fingers wrapped tightly around my cup.
Sophia gives a slight tilt of her head.“Of course.”
I hesitate.“How was it…to be with Damiano’s father, with the Don?To live that life?”Her smile fades, and something more introspective settles over her features.She leans back slightly, as if the weight of the memory is something she’s used to carrying.
“It was a life of shadows,” she begins.“But it was never loveless.”I blink, caught off guard.I hadn’t expected her to speak so plainly, so truthfully.“Damiano’s father, my husband, was a dangerous man, make no mistake.But he was also a man of deep loyalty, and when he gave his heart, it was for life.”Her gaze flickers to the window briefly before returning to me.“Ours wasn’t an arranged marriage, though many assumed it was.I chose him.And he gave me a seat beside him, not behind.”Her voice is steady, but there’s a wistful strength beneath the words.“He told me once that a king is only as powerful as the queen who guards his blind side.And that’s what I was to him.His confidante, his anchor.He protected the family, and I protected the man.”
I can’t help but stare, absorbing the unexpected tenderness in her tone.
“He wasn’t gentle with the world,” she continues, “but he was gentle with me.And that mattered.”She smiles, then shrugs lightly.“It wasn’t always easy.The silence, the secrets, the danger.But it was ours.And I never doubted that I was loved, or that I belonged.”
A lump rises in my throat.I want to ask her how she knew, how she trusted, how she accepted it all, but what comes out is something smaller, more fragile.“And you think…that’s something I could have?”
