Chapter 15 What Freedom Feels Like
Isabella woke to light.
Not the harsh kind that dragged you out of sleep, but the soft kind that rested on your skin like a promise. Pale morning sun filtered through the curtains, catching on the edge of the window, warming the wooden floor beneath her bare feet as she crossed the room.
She stopped by the glass.
Outside, the world was still.
The hills rolled endlessly, wrapped in a hush that felt sacred. No engines. No voices. No sense of being watched. Just birds calling somewhere in the distance and the slow, steady breath of a place that didn’t know her name—or her family.
She wrapped her arms around herself, breathing it in.
For the first time in longer than she could remember, she didn’t feel like she was hiding.
She felt… free.
And that was what scared her.
The guilt came quietly, slipping in beneath the peace.
Her mother’s face rose in her mind uninvited. The way she worried even when nothing was wrong. The way she tried to be strong for her children, even when fear hollowed her out from the inside.
She must think I’ve vanished, Isabella thought.
She must be terrified.
The thought tightened something in her chest.
Behind her, the bed shifted.
Warm arms wrapped around her waist, pulling her back against a familiar, solid body. Alessandro pressed a kiss to her shoulder, still half-asleep, his voice low and rough when he spoke.
“You look like you’re trying to solve the world before breakfast.”
She smiled faintly and leaned into him. “I was just thinking.”
“Dangerous,” he murmured, echoing his words from the day before.
She laughed softly, then sobered. “I think… I think I need to call my mom.”
His arms didn’t tighten in resistance. They didn’t loosen either. They stayed steady, supportive.
“She’s probably worried,” Isabella continued. “I didn’t mean to disappear. I just—” She faltered, searching for the right words. “I forgot everything else for a moment.”
Alessandro turned her gently so she was facing him. His expression was calm, open, free of jealousy or suspicion.
“Then you should call her,” he said. “Whatever you need to do to feel right with yourself.”
She searched his eyes. “You’re okay with that?”
“I’m okay with you being happy,” he replied without hesitation. “and you cant have that when something else eats at you.”
Emotion swelled in her chest, sharp and overwhelming.
Before she could say anything, he kissed her—slow, reassuring, grounding. The kind of kiss that didn’t ask for anything, only offered comfort.
And just like that, the moment slipped away.
They spent the morning outside.
The air was crisp, clean, filled with the scent of earth and pine. Alessandro took her hand as naturally as breathing, guiding her along a narrow path that wound through the property.
“I walk here when I need to think,” he said. “Or when I need to remember there’s more to life than decisions that hurt people.”
She glanced at him. “Does it help?”
“Sometimes,” he admitted. “Sometimes it just reminds me what I’m missing.”
They walked in comfortable silence for a while, stopping at the crest of a hill that overlooked the valley below. Isabella sat on a smooth rock, pulling him down beside her.
“This place feels… untouched,” she said. “Like nothing bad has ever happened here.”
He followed her gaze. “That’s why I keep it this way.”
She hesitated, then asked quietly, “Do you ever think about what your life would have been like if you’d had a choice?”
He turned to her slowly. “Every day.”
Her heart tightened. “What would you have chosen?”
He didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he studied the horizon, thoughtful.
“Peace,” he said finally. “Quiet. The freedom to wake up and decide who I am that day, instead of being reminded who I’m supposed to be.”
Isabella swallowed.
“In a place like this,” she murmured, almost to herself, “it feels like that kind of life is possible.”
He looked at her sharply then—not alarmed, but curious.
“Does it?” he asked.
She nodded. “Here, you don’t feel like your past is waiting to catch up to you. You don’t feel like you’re constantly paying for someone else’s decisions.”
She hesitated, then added softly, “Sometimes I think… if someone really wanted to, they could disappear here. Start over. Build something new.”
Alessandro’s gaze softened.
“You’re not wrong,” he said. “I’ve thought about it more times than I’ll admit.”
She turned to him, heart racing. “You have?”
“Yes.” His voice dropped. “Especially lately.”
The implication hung between them, dangerous and intoxicating.
“A different life,”
“A life where choice actually means something.”
Her breath caught.
For a moment, she let herself imagine it.
A life where love wasn’t a liability. Where no one hunted, no one hid, no one paid for sins they didn’t commit. A life where maybe—just maybe—this house could hold laughter that wasn’t stolen in secret.
The thought made her chest ache.
They returned inside laughing, warmth clinging to them like a shared secret. They cooked together, bumping into each other in the small kitchen, stealing tastes, arguing playfully over nothing.
“You’re terrible at this,” she teased as he burned toast again.
“I excel under pressure,” he replied solemnly.
She laughed so hard she had to brace herself against the counter, tears stinging her eyes.
This—this—was what life could be.
Later, they curled up on the couch, the afternoon sun spilling across the room. Isabella rested her head against his shoulder, tracing lazy circles on his arm.
“I didn’t know it could feel like this,” she admitted.
He kissed the top of her head. “Neither did I.”
For a while, she forgot everything again.
Until the light outside faded.
Night settled quietly, wrapping the house in stillness. Alessandro disappeared into the bathroom, the sound of running water filling the space he left behind.
Isabella sat alone.
Her phone lay on the table.
The weight in her chest returned, heavier now, sharpened by everything she had just experienced.
How can I be this happy when she thinks I’m gone?
Love had given her something extraordinary.
But it had also given her responsibility.
She picked up the phone with trembling fingers.
The screen glowed softly in the dim room.
She dialed before she could change her mind.
The line rang.
Once.
Twice.
She lifted the phone to her ear, breath catching, tears running down her face.
“Mom.”