Almost imperceptibly, he scoots closer. “I fucked up big time with Evangeline,” he says quietly. He shifts forward, resting his elbows on his knees and hanging his head between his arms. “I wasn’t a good boyfriend. I’m not even a good person.”
I stay quiet, allowing him to process this rather than giving in to the urge to brush his misdeeds under the rug.
“I’m going to be an awful father.”
That’s where I draw the line. I can’t let him believe that.
“You don’t have to be,” I tell him. “It’s never too late to do the right thing.”
On a quiet, broken whisper, he asks, “Will you help me?”
We talk for another hour. Or rather, Luca talks, recalling his transgressions in sordid detail while I listen, letting him get it all out in the open without casting judgment.
He really has made a mess of so many things.
As he shares, it occurs to me that I’ve played a much larger role in his poor self-image than I realized. He’s deeply insecure, and for the last several years, he has been carelessly bounding through life without any sense of moral structure or guidance.
When faced with our own unexpected pregnancy, Sophie and I grew up quickly. I was determined to shoulder every responsibility and consequence I faced. One single, uncontrollable situation led to years of course correcting and grasping for control.
I’ve been the epitome of rigid discipline his entire life. He’s never seen me falter. I’ve hidden any missteps from him. And I’ve done a poor job showing any sort of vulnerability. I’m an expert at maintaining unwavering composure, both in business and in my personal relationships. But with that skill, I robbed my son of the opportunity to witness the way I dealt with my struggles and learn how navigate the inevitable pitfalls and upsets of life.
Eventually, he falls asleep with his head on my shoulder.
I pull a blanket over us, soaking in the gentleness of the moment. As my eyelids grow heavy, I kiss the top of his head and issue a silent promise: I’ll help him through this. I’ll teach him that it’s never too late to do the right thing.
The pounding returns.
This time, I trudge to the front door slowly, panic niggling at my gut. Earlier, I wanted nothing more than to find Evangeline standing in the hall. Now, I’m terrified that she’ll show up and find my attention set on Luca. Again.
If it is her, I won’t allow Luca to berate her. He’s hurting and scared. I understand that. But I refuse to expose her to more pain. I’ll choose her, even if it costs me all the headway I’ve made with my son.
Holding my breath, I pull open the door a few inches and peek into the hall, then exhale loudly.
Leslie.
She pushes against the door and bulldozes into my entryway. “I can’t let you do this,” she chides. “This sort of announcement will destroy everything we’ve worked for. You wouldn’t just be torpedoing your career; you’d be reversing all Granata’s progress and stunting our ability to grow. There’sgotto be another way.”
I blow out a slow breath, resting one arm on the still-open door. “Keep it down, please. Luca’s sleeping on the couch.”
“Did you hear what I said?” she hisses, heading for the kitchen. “You can’t do this. You’re not throwing away your life’s work for a girl.”
Defeated, I close the door quietly, then follow my second-in-command.
“She’s a woman,” I correct. “And lucky for you, she broke up with me, so the announcement won’t be happening.”
Leslie wheezes, her eyes going wide in surprise. “She broke up with you? Wait—No. I thought you’d already broken up with her.”
“It’s complicated.” I clear my throat. “And utterly heartbreaking. But rest assured, we’re through. There’s no chance Evangeline will take me back now.”
Eyes softening, she takes me in. I’m sure I look wrecked. I’ve barely slept all week.
“You’re upset.”
I bark out a laugh. “I’m completely devastated,” I admit. Resting my forearms on the island, I bow my head. Fresh tears press behind my eyes. I’m too exhausted to hold them back. With a long exhale, I peek up at Leslie, allowing her to see the evidence of my despair.
She emits a quiet gasp. “God, Ric. I wanted to believe I could talk sense into you. That I could shake you out of this spell. But you were really fucking gone for this girl, weren’t you?”
I peer up at my friend, my pulverized heart taking yet another beating. “Woman,” I remind her. “And I was in love with her. Iamin love with her still. There’s never been anyone like her, and I can say without a shadow of a doubt that there’ll never be anyone like her again.” Emotion clogs my throat, making my next words thick. “Granata has always been my life. And that was okay, because I never wanted anything more than I wanted to lead this team to victory. I didn’t mind the sacrifices. I was okay prioritizing work above everything else.
