89 Reconciliation
89 Reconciliation
Lacy.
The night was a storm of emotions, and I felt like my heart was trying to leap out of my chest with every passing second. Anxiety clawed at me relentlessly, making it impossible to sit still. I whispered desperate prayers to the goddess, begging her to keep them safe—Theo, my son, and even Emma.
My home, which should have been a refuge, felt suffocating. Mathias and his wife were with me, their presence offering little comfort. My thoughts were miles away, in the middle of the danger they faced. Knowing there was going to be a fight and imagining Theo and my son in the midst of it tore at me.
I was furious with Emma for tagging along, but deep down, I knew she wouldn’t have stayed behind, no matter how much I wished she had. She was stubborn, and her courage often scared me. All I could do was hope—hope that the goddess would shield them, hope that they would come back to me in one piece.
Katya had fallen asleep on the couch, her small frame curled up like a fragile flower. Her peaceful face only deepened my turmoil, a sharp contrast to the chaos brewing in my chest. I linked Miranda, asking her to take Katya to her room, and once again, silence settled over the house. But it was the kind of silence that weighed heavy, like a storm waiting to unleash its wrath. Every time Mathias’s or Leonard’s phone buzzed, my heart leaped. Each vibration sent my nerves spiraling, my pulse thundering so loudly I thought everyone in the room could hear it. Fear gripped me like a vice, cold and unrelenting.
I pleaded with the goddess. I promised her anything—everything—if only she would bring them back safely. I vowed to be kinder, more forgiving. I swore I’d express my love and gratitude openly instead of bottling it all up. Anything, just so long as they came home.
At ten, Leonardo’s phone rang. He answered it, but instead of staying in the living room, he stepped out, leaving me in agonizing suspense. My mind raced with a thousand scenarios, each worse than the last. Mathias chuckled at the expression on my face, his attempt to lighten the mood only half-successful.
“You need to relax, Lacy,” he said gently, though there was a trace of amusement in his tone. “They’ll come home. This isn’t some bloody war. It’s a calculated move, a soft attack. Luca knows what he’s doing.”
I nodded absently, but his words didn’t comfort me. Victory didn’t guarantee safety. Even in a well-planned operation, lives could still be lost. The people they were up against weren’t trained soldiers, but they were cunning, ruthless, and had already caused so much devastation. My fear wasn’t irrational; it was rooted in everything we had already endured.
My phone rang, jarring me from my thoughts. I snatched it up, my hands trembling. It was Rufus.
“Hey,” I said, my voice shaky with anticipation.
“Our deal is done,” he replied, his tone brisk. “He’s on his way back to you now.”
Before I could say a word, the line went dead, but it didn’t matter. Relief washed over me, warm and soothing, and for the first time that night, a genuine smile broke across my face. My heart felt lighter, like it could finally beat without the weight of dread crushing it.
Moments later, Leonardo returned, his expression triumphant.
“They’re on their way,” he announced, and the room seemed to exhale collectively. “It was a success. Karolyn took down her uncle, and Luca killed Diego. After that, everyone else surrendered.”
Mathias frowned, skepticism etched across his face. “That easy?” he asked.
Leonardo shrugged but smiled. “Believe it or not, it was. Their defense crumbled like paper. I guess they weren’t as formidable as we thought.”
We laughed, a cathartic release of tension, but I couldn’t shake the lingering unease. Easy victories could still come with unseen costs. And then there was Karolyn. She had helped us, yes, but the idea of her sharing my husband didn’t sit well with me. I resolved to make that clear to Theo when he came home.
Knowing they were on their way, I slipped away to my room. I needed a moment to gather myself, to transition from worry to anticipation. I didn’t want the reunion to play out in front of an audience. I showered quickly, the warm water a brief reprieve from the storm of emotions that had raged all night.
Afterward, I chose a long white satin gown, the kind Theo loved. My hair fell loosely around my shoulders, and I studied my reflection in the mirror. At fifty, I still held onto a confidence that I looked good. My skin glowed, and though lines of worry had marked my face that night, I still saw strength and resilience staring back at me.
I slipped into bed, letting the cool sheets embrace me. I closed my eyes, pretending to sleep, though my heart was wide awake, racing in anticipation. I was ready to welcome Theo home, ready to feel his arms around me and know he was safe. The goddess had answered my prayers, and for that, I was deeply, endlessly grateful.