Chapter 32
Luca sank into the couch, absently staring at the TV as if the blur of colors and sounds might distract him from the chaos churning inside. He felt the housekeeper bustling around him, her presence usually a comfort, a grounding reminder of the steady routines of home. But today, it was just a haze of familiar noises, the dusting cloth swishing, the clinking as she adjusted vases and picture frames. His leg jittered, the tension building in him until it was unbearable, his thoughts pressing on him like a vice. He couldn’t sit there any longer.
Restlessly, he stood up and began pacing the room. As he turned for the umpteenth time, he noticed the housekeeper, Gabriella, staring at him with an expression that startled him—she looked furious. Her brows were furrowed, her mouth a tight line, and her grip on the mop was almost white-knuckled. Confused, he looked down and saw it: he had tracked wet footprints all over her freshly mopped floor.
“Oh,” he mumbled. “Sorry.”
“Move,” she replied, her tone clipped, barely contained. Without waiting for him to leave, she bent down to clean the mess he had just made, her annoyance seeping out of every motion. He watched her, stunned, her usual soft-spoken and sweet demeanor nowhere to be found.
It was a warning as much as it was an instruction, and he knew better than to argue. He retreated, heading to his study for some privacy. Just as he closed the door, he thought he heard it—a mutter under her breath, clear enough to reach him even from across the room: "Coglionato." Dumbass. He froze, stunned, the word bouncing around in his mind. Gabriella, the gentle, almost invisible presence in his household, was saying this things? He couldn’t believe it.
He stayed rooted there, half out the door, and her voice floated through the room, almost to herself. “Even his three-year-old knows what love is, and this one? Blind as a donkey.”
Gabriella, his usually sweet-natured, mostly silent housekeeper, was suddenly revealing a sharper, truer side, and he could barely hold back his laughter. Today seemed to be full of surprises. But he wasn’t angry—how could he be? She was right.
He had been blind.
He waited a minute longer to make sure she was done venting before slipping out quietly, heading toward the door. He couldn’t sit still any longer—he needed to find Amber and Nico. They could only have gone so far, maybe around the square or to the little park nearby.
As he reached the door, Gabriella’s voice interrupted his thoughts, this time in her usual tone. “Signor Luca, what would you like for lunch?”
There was a sly glint in her eye now, subtle but unmistakable, and he finally recognized the steely intelligence hiding behind her polite demeanor. Gabriella hadn’t just let her frustration slip—she had wanted him to hear it. Even now, her question was a veiled hint, a gentle shove in the right direction.
“Nothing, thanks,” he replied, a slight smile playing at his lips. “I think we’ll be having lunch out today—Nico, Amber, and I.”
And before stepping out, he turned one last time. “Ah, another thing Gabriella… you do realize that blind people can still hear? Yes?”
If she was surprised, she didn’t show it. Her expression remained placid as always, but Luca thought he caught the faintest twitch of her lips. Laughing to himself, he walked out, wondering how he had missed her insight all these years.
Middle-aged Gabriella continued sweeping the floor, silent as ever, though secretly hoping the Forentinos would stay away for good after today. She disliked those nosy bastards. The elder Forentino never even called her by name—always, “Eh! Come here... eh! Do that!” She hated it. And the younger boy, brother of Senora Carlotta was the worst—he’d once had the nerve to call her “the fat housekeeper”! She shuddered at the memory. She had never—never—been fat a day in her life! Glancing over her shoulder, she examined her ample derrière with a thoughtful nod. No, it was just fine, thank you. Her husband certainly liked it.
Yes,well… she thought with a little smile, the red-haired American and her sweet boy would be much better employers for her. A far better fit.
The sun was warm on his face as he walked, his mind finally clearing as he made his way toward the park. There was no way he’d sit around and wait for fate to throw him a lifeline. He’d find Amber and Nico himself, wherever they’d gone. He had to. His impatience spurred him onward, his steps quick and purposeful.
When he reached the park, the world was bathed in the golden glow of afternoon light, children laughing and shouting as they played around the small pond. His heart stilled as he saw him—Nico, kneeling in the grass with a group of kids, laughing as they built little sandcastles. For a moment, Luca couldn’t move, just watching his son in the warmth of the sun, surrounded by the brightness of the day.
And then Nico spotted him, his face lighting up in an instant. He dropped his bucket, and before Luca could react, Nico was running, small arms flung wide, his voice ringing out across the field. “Papa!”
The sound of it—a cry so simple yet so full of joy—stopped Luca’s heart. He opened his arms just as Nico flung himself into them, laughing as he wrapped his tiny arms around his legs.
Luca knelt down, pulling Nico close, his heart feeling like it was about to burst. In that small, fierce embrace, he felt something settle, some ache he hadn’t known was there dissolving as he held his son close. Nico pulled back, his face bright with happiness, and Luca could barely hold back the rush of emotion in his chest.
So, this is what it felt like to be loved unconditionally.
He didn’t need to ask anyone to confirm it; he felt the answer settle warmly in his chest. Yes, this was it. That pure, unwavering love—he realized he’d known it before. As he scanned the park, his eyes landed on Amber, sitting quietly by the pond, her gaze distant, lost in thought.
“Papa,” Nico breathed, his little fingers clutching Luca’s shirt. “Can we get ice cream?”
Luca’s laugh was rough, the sound thick with unspoken words. He ruffled Nico’s hair, brushing his cheek softly. “Of course, tesoro. Go get your mother, and we’ll all go together.”
Amber was gazing at the water, lost in thought, and as he watched her, the knot in his chest unraveled completely. She looked peaceful, her face softened by the light, yet he could sense the weight she carried too, a shadow just beneath the surface.
But for the first time, he felt hope—an almost painful, beautiful hope that pierced through the quiet ache that had lived inside him for so long.