Chapter 60
Carlotta nodded slowly, her eyes softening with a bittersweet empathy. “And then you fell pregnant.”
Amber’s head dropped, her shoulders trembling slightly as she nodded in agreement, though her hollow eyes betrayed her turmoil. The room around her seemed to fade into the background. If this was true—if what Carlotta had said about Luca’s love for her was real—it would force her to confront a reality she wasn’t ready to accept. It would mean facing not only the depth of his feelings for her but the damage her own insecurities had caused. It felt as though her soul was slipping from her body, leaving her an empty shell.
The overwhelming sadness hit her like a tidal wave—grief for what had been, for what had been destroyed, and for what could never be reclaimed.
Carlotta’s voice, low and reflective, broke the silence. “I’ve never been a confrontational woman,” she said softly, her hands folded tightly in her lap. “So, I never spoke to you about any of this. And really, what was there to say? He was already yours—mind, body, and soul. And then you had his child, too. There was nothing left for me.”
Carlotta turned toward the window, her gaze fixed on the empty road outside. Her profile was etched in the soft light filtering through the curtains, and Amber could see the pain she was trying so hard to hide. “I watched you, Amber. You and Luca, both. From afar, and up close. I was even at your wedding reception after the two of you eloped. I had to go, if only to save face. People needed to see that I was still standing, even though inside I was crumbling.”
Her voice grew quieter, tinged with the bitterness of memory. “I saw it there, too—his love for you. It was in his every movement, in the way his eyes followed you like you were the only person in the room. Like you were the air he breathed. He couldn’t look away from you, Amber. Every time you laughed, smiled, even breathed, his eyes lit up in a way I never knew they could.”
Carlotta let out a small, bitter laugh, one that sounded more like a sob caught in her throat. It was a sound that cut through Amber’s defenses, leaving her raw. “It was there,” Carlotta continued, shaking her head as if she could dispel the memory. “Inescapable, undeniable. And it broke me. Because I knew I would never have that. Not from him, not from anyone.”
Amber felt her throat tighten, her own pain mirroring the raw honesty in Carlotta’s voice. There was no vindictiveness here, no malice. Only a woman who had loved and lost, just like Amber. It was devastating in its own way—a shared grief between two women whose lives had been entangled in ways neither had wanted.
Carlotta’s voice softened as she looked out of the window, her hands gripping the counter's edge as though grounding herself. “He danced with me once, you know,” she began, her tone heavy with nostalgia. “It was after the wedding reception was winding down. Most of the guests had left, and the music was slower, quieter. I suppose he felt it was the polite thing to do—one last dance with the woman he had once promised to marry.”
Amber felt her breath hitch, but she said nothing, letting Carlotta continue.
“The whole time, though, he wasn’t really there with me. His body was moving, sure, but his eyes…” She let out a hollow laugh, tinged with pain. “He kept craning his neck to look behind him, to look at you. You were dancing with his cousin then, laughing about something, completely unaware of how much space you took up in his world. Every glance, every smile you gave someone else, and every step you took—it was like he couldn’t bear to miss even a second of it.”
Carlotta paused, her shoulders rising and falling with a deep, tremulous breath. “I couldn’t hold back. I asked him, ‘Are you happy now, Luca? Now that you’ve finally married her?’ But the words were pointless the moment they left my lips. I already knew the answer. His eyes told me everything—glistening, brimming with this… joy I had never seen before. He was in love, Amber. Truly, deeply, completely. And in that moment, it hit me like a brick wall. He was never mine to begin with.”
Her voice cracked, and she turned her gaze away, the weight of the memory too much to face head-on. “That was the moment I knew I had to let him go. To stop holding on to the hope that maybe he’d come back to me. Because he didn’t belong to me. He belonged to you.”
Amber felt her pulse quicken, her heart clenching painfully in her chest. She wanted to say something, anything, but the words refused to come. Carlotta wasn’t finished.
“But you…” Carlotta’s voice shifted, tinged with a mixture of curiosity and disbelief. “You weren’t caught up in all that love, were you? No, you were too busy worrying about what everyone else thought. How many of the guests were talking about your pregnancy.”
Amber’s head shot up, but Carlotta continued without pause, a faint, rueful smile curving her lips. “And people were talking,” she confirmed. “Oh, they were definitely talking. It was the strangest thing to watch, really. Luca was on one side of the hall, positively beaming. He was cheering, raising toasts with his friends, proudly announcing to anyone who would listen that he was going to be a father soon. And you…”
Carlotta turned sharply then, her gaze pinning Amber where she stood, her pale, pinched face betraying the storm of emotions brewing beneath her calm exterior. “You were on the other side of the room, sullen and embarrassed. Hiding away like some guilty child, your head down, your shoulders tense, as though you had something to be ashamed of. Do you have any idea how bizarre that looked? Him, the happiest man alive, and you, drowning in what? Fear? Shame? Insecurity?”
The words stung, each one cutting deeper than the last. Amber felt exposed, as though Carlotta had peeled back layers she hadn’t even known were there, laying bare her most hidden truths.