Chapter 88 -
“My heart is not broken,” Nia protested weakly.
Rosa just looked at her with those knowing eyes that had seen too much in this house to be fooled by lies.
“Fine,” Nia conceded. “My heart is a little broken. But eating is not going to fix that.”
“No,” Rosa agreed. “But it will give you the strength to survive it. And right now, that is what matters.”
Nia sat up slowly, every movement feeling like it took more effort than it should. The eggs on the plate were perfectly cooked, the toast was golden brown, and the fruit looked fresh and colorful. Her stomach growled despite her insistence that she was not hungry.
“See?” Rosa said with satisfaction. “Your body knows what it needs even if your brain is being stubborn about it.”
Nia picked up the fork, poking at the eggs without much enthusiasm. “Does everyone know what happened last night?”
“Rosa knows,” Rosa said, settling back into the chair by the window. “Lucia knows. Matteo probably knows, though he is too professional to say anything. And Leo knows, obviously, since he was there.”
“What about Micheal?” Nia asked. “And Christian?”
“Micheal is still sleeping off his own hangover,” Rosa said with a small smile. “And Christian does not pay attention to anything that does not directly affect him. So you are safe there.”
“For now,” Nia said. She took a small bite of eggs. They were good, perfectly seasoned, but they tasted like ash in her mouth. “Until the whole house knows that I threw myself at the Enforcer and got rejected.”
“You did not throw yourself at anyone,” Rosa said firmly. “You were honest about your feelings. There is a difference.”
“It does not feel different,” Nia muttered. She took another bite, forcing herself to chew and swallow even though everything felt wrong. “It feels humiliating.”
“That is the shame talking,” Rosa said. “And shame is a liar. It tells you that you did something wrong when all you really did was be brave enough to be vulnerable.”
Nia set down her fork, abandoning the pretense of eating. “I do not feel brave. I feel stupid.”
“Bravery and stupidity often look the same in the moment,” Rosa observed. “It is only later that we can tell the difference.”
“And which one was last night?” Nia asked.
“That depends,” Rosa said. “Do you regret it?”
Nia thought about it. Really thought about it. She regretted the rejection. She regretted the embarrassment. She regretted the way Leo had looked at her like she was a problem he needed to solve instead of a person with feelings.
But did she regret being honest? Did she regret finally saying out loud what she had been feeling for weeks? Did she regret the kiss itself, those few perfect seconds before everything fell apart?
“No,” Nia said quietly. “I do not regret it. I just wish it had ended differently.”
“That is fair,” Rosa said. She stood and moved to the window, pulling the curtains open wider to let more light into the room. “But wishing for a different ending does not change the one you got. So now you have to decide what you are going to do next.”
“I am going to stay in this bed,” Nia said. She pulled the blankets back up, recreating her fortress. “Forever. Or at least until everyone forgets this happened.”
“You cannot hide forever, dear,” Rosa said. Her voice was gentle but there was steel underneath it, the kind of firmness that came from years of dealing with stubborn people in this house.
“Watch me,” Nia said. She burrowed deeper into the blankets, pulling them over her head again. “I am very good at hiding. I have had lots of practice.”
Rosa sighed, the sound heavy with years of dealing with DeSantos and the people unfortunate enough to get tangled up with them. “Hiding does not make problems go away. It just delays dealing with them.”
“Good,” Nia said to the darkness under the blankets. “I like delays. Delays are my new favorite thing.”
“What about when Leo sends for you?” Rosa asked.
The question made Nia’s stomach drop. “He would not.”
“He might,” Rosa said. “In fact, I would be surprised if he did not. He is not the type to let things stay unresolved.”
“Then I will tell Matteo to tell him I am sick,” Nia said. “Which is not even a lie. I feel sick. My head hurts and my stomach hurts and my heart hurts and everything hurts.”
“Nia,” Rosa started, but Nia cut her off.
“Please,” Nia said. Her voice came out smaller than she intended, almost pleading. “Please just let me have today. Let me hide and feel sorry for myself and pretend that I did not completely humiliate myself last night. Tomorrow I will be strong. Tomorrow I will face him. But today I just need to be allowed to fall apart.”
The silence that followed was long enough that Nia thought maybe Rosa had left. But then she felt the bed dip again as Rosa sat back down, her hand finding Nia’s shoulder through the layers of blankets.
“Alright,” Rosa said softly. “You can have today. But tomorrow, you are getting out of this bed and you are facing the world again. Do you understand me?”
“Yes,” Nia whispered.
“Good.” Rosa’s hand squeezed her shoulder gently before pulling away. “I will tell anyone who asks that you are unwell and need rest. That should buy you some time.”
“Thank you,” Nia said.
She heard Rosa stand, heard the soft rustle of her clothing as she moved toward the door. The breakfast tray was lifted from the bed, the dishes clinking softly together.
“Nia?” Rosa said from the doorway.
“Yes?”
“What you are feeling right now? This pain and this shame and this certainty that you will never recover? It will pass. Maybe not today or tomorrow, but eventually. I promise you that.”
Nia did not answer. She just stayed curled up under the blankets, listening to the sound of Rosa’s footsteps retreating, listening to the door click shut with a finality that seemed to echo through the room.
Then she was alone again.
The silence pressed in from all sides, heavy and thick and suffocating. Nia pulled her knees tighter to her chest, making herself as small as possible, trying to take up as little space as she could. Like if she could just shrink down far enough, maybe she could disappear entirely.
Outside her window, she could hear the sounds of the mansion waking up. Footsteps in the hallway. Voices echoing from somewhere downstairs. The distant sound of Gabriel’s laughter, bright and innocent and completely unaware of the drama unfolding in the rooms above him.
Life was going on. The world was continuing to turn. Everyone else was moving forward while Nia stayed frozen in this moment of humiliation and heartbreak.
“I kissed Leo DeSanto,” she said to the empty room. Her voice was so quiet it barely disturbed the air. “And he pushed me away.”