Chapter 3
“Noooooo!” The wail echoed through the bustling airport, drawing the curious glances of passersby. They had landed in Italy only half an hour ago, but Nico—Amber’s three-year-old son—was refusing to budge. Every time she took a step toward the airport exit, he screamed louder, making it impossible to move forward.
Amber crouched down, her eyes soft with concern, watching her son crumble into a full-blown tantrum. At first, she’d thought he was just moody from the long flight from the States. He’d been fussy the entire time, refusing to eat and clinging to her like a lifeline. He hadn’t slept for even a minute, too wound up to relax. But this… this was more than just travel fatigue.
Nico had always been a sweet, well-behaved boy, and Amber had never seen him act like this. Her stomach twisted with worry as his cries grew louder, drawing more attention from the surrounding crowd. *Why now?*
Amber crouched down, trying to meet his teary eyes, her voice soft but tired. “Nico, baby, what's wrong? Are you feeling sick? Does something hurt?”
“No!” Nico shouted back, his face scrunched up, red and puffy from crying. His little fists clutched his favorite teddy bear to his chest like it was the only thing keeping him from completely falling apart.
She tried everything—offering his favorite snacks, his favorite toys, even Peppa Pig on her phone. But the answer was always the same. “No, no, no!”
Amber sighed, feeling the weight of exhaustion settle deep in her bones. It had been a grueling journey for her as well. Packing up her life, traveling halfway across the world with a toddler, and facing the emotional hurricane of returning to Italy—the country where everything had gone wrong—was more than she could handle right now. She’d booked a room in a nearby hotel, desperate for a night of rest before dealing with the looming confrontation she dreaded most.
Luca.
The thought of seeing her ex-husband after all these years was already weighing heavily on her, and she needed all the energy she could muster to face him. But first, she had to deal with Nico’s meltdown. She knelt in front of him again, forcing a patient smile. “Tell me what you want, sweetheart. What do you want?”
Nico sniffled, his voice a tiny murmur that broke her heart. “Wanna go home.”
Amber’s breath hitched, and she fought the urge to scoop him up and hold him tight, to shield him from everything. “We can’t, baby. You know we can’t—”
Before she could finish, a familiar voice interrupted her, sending a chill down her spine.
“You *are* home, Nico.”
Amber’s entire body tensed. She didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. The voice—the commanding, deep voice that once held her in its thrall—was unmistakable. Luca. Her heart pounded in her chest, a chaotic mix of fear, anger, and something else she couldn’t quite name. Slowly, she stood, turning to face him for the first time in over eight months.
There he was—Luca D’Alessandro, the man who had both saved her and shattered her. His dark hair, still perfectly styled, his sharp jawline set with that same cold, brooding expression she remembered all too well. He hadn’t changed much, except for the colder edge that seemed to have deepened in his eyes. Those eyes, once filled with warmth, now looked at her as if she were a stranger.
“Luc…” she whispered, barely able to get the word out.
But Luca wasn’t looking at her. His focus was entirely on their son. “Piccolino, come here,” he said softly, extending his hands toward Nico. “Come greet your papa.”
It was painful to watch. Nico, the little boy who had once idolized his father from afar, was now cowering behind her leg, clutching his teddy bear even tighter. His lower lip trembled, and his eyes were wide with fear as he peered up at the towering figure of his father.
Luca knelt down, trying again, his voice softer this time. “Nico, come…”
But all Nico did was bury his face in Amber’s leg, his muffled voice crying out, “No! Wanna go home! Mummy, please, home!”
Amber’s heart broke, a thousand tiny pieces scattering as she looked at her son’s tear-streaked face. She could feel Luca’s frustration mounting, the tension between them growing thicker by the second.
“You *are* home, Nico,” Luca insisted, his voice tight with emotion. “L’Italia è anche casa tua.” But the boy wouldn’t look at him. He wouldn’t even peek from behind his mother. Amber could see it—the rejection cut deep into Luca, his jaw clenched as he stood up, the hurt in his eyes quickly transforming into something else.
Anger.
Luca’s gaze shifted to her, and she knew what was coming. His fury, always simmering just below the surface, exploded. “So, this is what you wanted, huh?” he hissed, his words sharp as knives. “You’ve poisoned him against me. He won’t even *look* at me. Is that what you wanted, Amber? For my son to hate me?”
The accusation was like a slap to the face. Amber recoiled, feeling the venom in his voice seep into her skin. The icy look he gave her sent a shiver down her spine.
“I didn’t—” she started, her voice trembling.
But Luca was relentless. “Congratulations. It looks like you’ve succeeded. He *hates* me. Just like you wanted.”
Amber could feel the weight of his hatred pressing down on her, suffocating her. She could have snapped back, could have unleashed her own anger at him like she had done so many times in the past. But that wasn’t why she was here. She couldn’t risk a fight with him—not now, not when Nico needed him.
Taking a deep breath, she forced herself to stay calm. “On the contrary, Luc. I’m here *because* I want Nico to know his father better. You barely visited him in the last year, and—”
“And whose fault is that?” Luca snapped, stepping closer, his towering presence making her feel small. “You took him halfway around the world. *You* took him from me!”
Amber held Nico tighter, feeling the warmth of his little body pressed against her as he sobbed into her shoulder, his fingers gripping her blouse as though the fabric was the only thing tethering him to safety. His cries grew louder with each passing moment, breaking her heart into smaller pieces. Amber’s arms trembled slightly as she rocked him gently, doing her best to soothe him, but nothing was working. His breath came in heavy, ragged bursts, each tear seeming to weigh more heavily on her than the last.
“It’s okay, baby. It’s okay,” she whispered into his ear, her voice shaky but as calm as she could make it. She ran her hand gently through his soft hair, trying to calm him, though she could feel his tension radiating through her.
Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed Luca’s posture change. The sharp, biting anger in his expression faltered as he looked down at his son. The cold edge that had gripped him seemed to melt away for just a moment, revealing a flicker of something much more vulnerable beneath the surface. Regret, perhaps. Maybe guilt.
“I’m sorry, piccolino,” Luca murmured, his voice so low that Amber almost didn’t catch it. He stepped forward and crouched down, gently pressing his lips to Nico’s forehead, a soft kiss filled with a sadness he couldn’t hide. His face, usually so composed and stoic, softened as his eyes lingered on his son, guilt etched deep into his features.
Amber didn’t miss the way his fingers trembled ever so slightly as he reached out to touch Nico’s arm, almost as though he feared his own son’s rejection. But Nico, exhausted and overwhelmed, whimpered softly before surrendering to the exhaustion that had been chasing him for hours. His eyelids fluttered shut, his breathing slowing as he drifted off into a fitful sleep.
“Go home, Mummy,” Nico whispered one last time, his words barely audible as his small body relaxed in her arms, finally succumbing to the weariness of the day.