Chapter 30
Carlotta’s eyes fixed on him, cool and unwavering, though her voice trembled slightly. “When your marriage broke down, you said you wouldn’t fight for custody, Luca,” she said, each word carrying a weight he hadn’t noticed before. “You said you would let him stay with his mother.”
Her tone wasn’t hostile, but there was a distance in it that made Luca’s chest ache. The words floated in the air, unresolved and painful, as he searched her expression, looking for any flicker of understanding.
“This isn’t a custody battle, Carlotta,” he murmured, his voice low but firm. “Amber and I decided together—Nico needs to live with me now.”
Carlotta’s lips parted, but she didn’t shout or lash out as he might have expected. Instead, she grew quiet, her face pale and drawn as she slid back on the wide couch, her gaze drifting away from him.
“When we got engaged, when you asked me to marry you for the second time…” Her voice cracked on the words “second time,” and though Luca couldn’t be sure, there was a tremor of bitterness in her tone. She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a sadness that felt deeper than he’d ever seen before. “You told me we were going to be a family, Luca. You and I, and our future children. You promised.”
Luca swallowed hard, feeling the weight of her words press into his chest. “Nico is my family, Carlotta. He always has been, and he always will be,” he said quietly, trying to reach her, trying to make her understand. “I didn’t think I had to choose between him and the life we’re building.”
“You said he was happy with his mother.” Her words were almost a whisper now, as if she couldn’t bear to say them any louder.
Luca nodded, feeling the lump in his throat grow as he thought of Amber, thought of the news she’d given him and the desperation in her voice as she’d asked him to take care of Nico. “He was. He is,” he replied slowly. “But that doesn’t change the fact that he’s my son, Carlotta. My firstborn. I can’t turn my back on him now, especially not when he needs me.”
Her head dropped slightly, her gaze slipping from his as she struggled to hold onto her composure. Finally, her voice broke. “What I don’t understand, Luca, is why.” Her voice rose, filling the silence between them with raw, unfiltered pain. “Why you have to bring another woman’s child into our home. He could stay with his mother—like he always has. I’ve never tried to get in the way of your relationship with him. I’ve never interfered with you and… and that boy. So, why now? Why do you have to bring him here, into our home, and ruin everything we’ve built?”
The words echoed in the room, hanging heavy and unresolved, the silence afterward thick as a mountain, pressing down on him. Carlotta’s eyes were red-rimmed, unshed tears shimmering as she looked at him, as if searching for an answer she couldn’t accept. He stood there, frozen, her words burrowing into him, each syllable a painful revelation.
Luca felt his heart splinter as he understood, really understood, what she was saying. He thought back to all the times he’d talked about Nico, thinking she’d felt the same quiet pride he did, that she’d come to accept Nico as a part of him. But now he saw her gaze turn cold, full of something he hadn’t expected to see: resentment. She resented his son—resented the boy he would never abandon.
His lips parted, wanting to explain everything, to tell her that Amber’s cancer meant Nico would only be with them temporarily. But the look in Carlotta’s eyes stopped him cold. It was as if none of it would matter. She didn’t want Nico here, not now, not ever.
Luca’s question hung in the air, reverberating through the silence between them. “You don’t like my son, Nico?” His voice was quieter than he’d intended, almost a whisper, but the hurt behind it was unmistakable. He’d never thought he’d have to ask anyone that, especially not the woman he’d asked to marry him, to share her life with him. But Carlotta’s resentment was right there, so close to the surface that he could almost feel it radiating off her, sharp as ice.
For a moment, Carlotta didn’t respond. Then, slowly, she looked up at him, her face twisted in a mixture of pain and anger. “You told me they were gone from your life, Luca. You promised me that—they were gone,” she spat, her voice trembling with something dark, something bitter. “I agreed to marry you because you said they were out of your life for good.”
Luca’s heart pounded painfully, each beat reminding him of what was unraveling before him. “Carlotta, I never said Nico was out of my life. I never even implied that. He’s my son. I thought you understood that.” He struggled to keep his voice steady, but his disbelief and hurt crept in.
Carlotta’s eyes flashed, hardening as she spoke, her words laced with something venomous. “I have nothing against that boy, Luca,” she said, her tone so measured it was almost frightening. “But he’s not mine.” Her voice cracked on the last word, and she paused, her hands twisting in her lap as she forced herself to continue. “How hard is it to understand that I don’t want him in our life? He’s the result of your affair, Luca! The reminder of everything you did to me!”
Luca felt the blow of her words hit him like a punch to the chest, and he stood there, stunned, as she continued. “He’s the reason you broke off our engagement to marry her!” Her voice trembled now, softening into something that was neither anger nor pity, just pure, broken sadness. “I accepted it. I got over it. But you can’t ask this of me—not to bring him into our home, into our life. It’s too much. It’s—” She broke off, her voice a strangled whisper, and in that moment, she looked so small, curled up on the sofa, her eyes wet and shining as she held herself, as if trying to block out some invisible pain.
Luca’s heart pounded in his chest, the full weight of her words settling over him like lead. Her pain was real; he couldn’t deny that. But as he watched her sitting there, he realized that her love came with conditions he could no longer ignore. Nico, his son—their son, whether Carlotta liked it or not—wasn’t someone she’d ever truly accepted.
He took a step back, feeling like he was seeing her for the first time. “I never thought you’d think of Nico that way,” he said quietly, his voice thick with disbelief and anger. “Never thought you’d reduce him to… to this. Calling him an affair baby. Like he’s nothing more than a stain on your perfect vision of our life together.” He felt a hot, bitter anger rise in him as he remembered every time he’d apologized to her, every time he’d tried to make up for the choices he’d made, the mistakes he’d acknowledged.
Carlotta looked up, her eyes narrowing defensively. “Oh, so now I’m the bad guy?” she whispered, her tone sharp. “You were the one who made the choice, Luca. You broke my heart when you left me to marry her. Don’t make me out to be the villain for not wanting the product of your betrayal in our home. Do you think that’s fair to me?”
And just like that, something snapped in him. He wasn’t even sure what it was, but the pain, the resentment, the shame—it all surged up, demanding to be voiced.
Carlotta’s face was flushed, her eyes flashing with righteous indignation, as if she truly believed she had a right to condemn Nico and judge his existence.
"Really, Carlotta?” He took a step closer, his voice cold and steady, though he was fighting to keep it from shaking. “So, you’ve decided to completely wipe off the memories of that week, haven’t you? The one when I found out you’d had an abortion after a one-night stand in college?” He watched her face shift, her eyes widening, the defensive anger slipping into something else—shock, and just a flicker of fear. “You have chosenly decided to erased that week from your mind, it seems,” he continued, his tone laced with bitterness. “Because if you haven’t, then I really don’t know how you’re standing here, casting stones.”
Carlotta’s mouth opened, but no words came out, only a strangled sound of protest.
“You think I don’t remember it?” He went on, his voice tightening. “We had a fight—one of the worst we’d ever had. And then you unilaterally decided that we needed space from each other. You said we needed a break from each other. And you *left*, Carlotta. You flew off with your sister and didn’t bother telling me where you’d gone.” He watched her pale as his words hit her.
Her hands shook slightly as she clasped them in front of her. "That was... it was years ago,” she whispered, barely able to keep her voice steady. “And it was a…a….Mistake."
Luca let out a harsh laugh, the sound bitter, slicing through the room like ice. “A mistake?” He shook his head slowly. “Yes, maybe it was. Because you clearly got rid of the baby – the said evidence of that mistake and decided to forget about it altogather. And yes, I did meet Amber that week, when you were gone, yes, I did sleep with her and yes, Nico was the product of that., and I’ve been condemned for it ever since. I’ve apologized a thousand times, accepted every bit of blame and shame that came my way.” His voice grew quieter, sharper. “I let Amber face the worst of it too. For the entirety of our short marriage, I stood by, took the punishment as if it were mine alone, and let the world paint me as the one who ruined everything. For *you.*”
She looked up at him, her mouth open, but she said nothing, her face stricken.
“But while I’ve accepted the blame, I’m not going to stand here and let you condemn my child,” he said, his voice rough but steady. “I won’t stand by while you call him names, act like he’s something shameful, like he’s some kind of blemish on your ‘perfect’ new life.” He paused, his gaze hardening as he met her eyes, his voice low. “And before you call him an affair baby again, maybe remember your own mistake—the one you’ve tried so hard to bury. The one you hid from your family. You’ve made me live with my choices every day, Carlotta. But you don’t get to pretend that your own past doesn’t exist. Nico’s not a dirty secret. He’s not a ‘mistake’ I want to erase.”
Carlotta looked like a deer caught in headlights, her face white as a sheet, her eyes wide. She looked like she wanted to shrink back, disappear into the couch, her hands twisting together tightly. Her voice was barely a whisper, her gaze flickering around as if checking to make sure no one else had overheard. “That was… years ago,” she mumbled, her voice shaking. “And it was a…..a…..”
Luca let out a breath, a bitter smile twisting his lips as he took in her cowering form, the fear written all over her face. “A mistake?” he echoed, his voice hardening, anger rising again. “Maybe it was. But Nico’s birth wasn’t a mistake, Carlotta. He’s not a secret I want to hide away, not something I regret. He’s a part of me, my son. And no matter what you think of me or what happened that week, he’s not something to bury in shame.”
His voice grew louder, more intense, his anger barely contained. “Nico was born out of love, out of a moment that was real and honest. He’s not something I’ll ever apologize for again.” His words echoed through the room, and he could hear voices and footsteps approaching, others in the house drawn by the sound. He whirled around and left the room, he was in no mood for chitchatting.