Chapter 132 *
Scarlett’s POV
I wiped my eyes with the back of my hand.
"You were right about them, Dad. Blood doesn't mean family."
The tears started falling. I couldn't stop them.
"Viviana kicked me out. Said I was an embarrassment. Salvatore announced it at a party. In front of everyone."
My shoulders started shaking.
"I thought finding them would fix everything. Thought I'd finally belong somewhere."
I pressed my palm against Dad's headstone.
"But they don't want me. Not really. They just want someone who fits their idea of what a Romano should be."
A sob broke free. Then another.
"I miss you so much." The words tore out of my chest. "I miss you both so much."
Everything I'd been holding back for months came pouring out.
The loneliness. The rejection. The constant feeling of not being enough.
"You always made me feel like I mattered." My voice was barely intelligible now. "Like I was worth something."
I remembered Dad teaching me how to identify different medications. How his eyes would light up when I got something right.
"You're smart, kid. Smarter than any of those rich brats will ever be."
I remembered Mom waiting up for me after my construction shifts. Hot chocolate already made. Ready to wash the dirt off my face with a warm cloth.
She never made me feel like a burden. Never made me feel like I owed them.
They'd just loved me. Completely.
And now they were gone.
My chest felt like it was being crushed. I couldn't breathe properly.
A hand touched my shoulder. Warm. Steady.
I looked up through my tears.
Damon was crouching beside me. His expression was soft in a way I'd never seen before.
He didn't say anything. Just reached into his pocket and pulled out a cloth handkerchief.
I took it. Pressed it against my face. Tried to get myself under control.
"They raised a woman who refuses to be broken." His voice was quiet. Firm. "They'd be proud of that."
I shook my head. "I'm not thatâ€""
"Your father worked two jobs to keep you safe." He cut me off gently. "That's more than most men with blood ties ever do."
His hand moved from my shoulder to the back of my head. His fingers threaded through my hair.
"You graduated top of your class. You survived everything this world threw at you."
He paused. Made me look at him.
"If that's not enough, I don't know what is."
My throat was too tight to speak.
He pulled me toward him. Let me lean against his chest.
His arms wrapped around me. One hand stayed on my head. The other rested on my back.
This wasn't the way he usually touched me. This wasn't possessive or demanding.
This was just comfort.
I buried my face in his shirt. Let myself cry properly.
He didn't tell me to stop. Didn't tell me it would be okay.
He just held me. Let me fall apart.
His heartbeat was steady under my ear. His breathing was calm.
For the first time in months, I felt safe enough to break down completely.
The Romano family had blood ties to me. DNA. Legal documents proving I was theirs.
But they'd never held me like this. Never let me be vulnerable.
Viviana would've told me to pull myself together. To stop being dramatic.
Salvatore would've been embarrassed. Would've walked away.
Damon flew halfway across the country with me to help me mourn my parents.
He brought roses and whiskey and cigars. Performed sacred rituals for people he never knew.
Because they mattered to me.
The realization hit me hard.
Maybe this was what it felt like. To be chosen.
Not by blood. Not by obligation.
But by choice.
My crying slowed. Turned into hiccups and shaky breaths.
Damon didn't let go. Just kept holding me.
"I'm sorry." My voice came out muffled against his shirt. "I'm a mess."
"You're grieving." His voice rumbled in his chest. "That's not the same thing."
I pulled back slightly. Looked up at him.
His eyes were serious. But not uncomfortable.
"Thank you." I managed to say. "For this. For understanding."
"You don't need to thank me."
"I do though." I wiped my face with the handkerchief. "Nobody else would've done this."
His jaw tightened. "Then nobody else deserves you."
My chest felt warm despite the cold air.
"We should go." I stood up slowly. My legs were shaky.
Damon stood with me. Kept his hand on my elbow to steady me.
I turned back to the graves one last time.
"I'll come back." I said it like a promise. "I won't wait so long next time."
The cigars were still burning. The roses looked beautiful against the gray stone.
Damon guided me back toward the SUV. His hand stayed on my lower back the whole way.
We got in. He started the engine.
I looked out the window as we pulled away. Watched the cemetery disappear behind us.
Then I did something I'd never done before.
I reached over. Found his hand on the gear shift.
Wrapped my fingers around his.
He glanced at me. Surprised.
I didn't say anything. Just held on.
His hand turned. Laced his fingers through mine.
We drove like that for a while. Connected.
"Thank you." My voice was barely above a whisper. "For understanding."
He squeezed my hand once. Didn't let go.
The Montana landscape passed by outside. Mountains in the distance. Open sky.
I thought about everything that had happened.
This man kneeled in front of graves for people he never met.
This man flew across the country because I mentioned missing my parents once.
This man held me while I fell apart and never once made me feel weak for it.
That wasn't someone who saw me as replaceable.
That was someone who saw me as precious.
The wall I'd built around my heart cracked a little wider.
I wasn't ready to tear it down completely. Not yet.
But maybe. Just maybe.
I could let him in a little more.