Chapter 161
Chapter 161
Elena’s POV
Traffic crawled through the afternoon streets. Pedestrians hurried across intersections with paper cups of coffee in one hand and phones in the other. Somewhere nearby, a child laughed so loudly that it drifted through the closed windows of my car before fading into the noise of passing engines.
Life had a cruel way of continuing.
I tightened my grip on the steering wheel and watched the traffic light change from red to green.
If it hadn’t been for the folded letter tucked safely inside my handbag, I might have convinced myself the morning had been a nightmare.
A vivid one.
The kind that clung to you for a few minutes after waking before reality settled back into place.
Instead, every time my thoughts threatened to drift in that direction, I remembered the feel of the paper in my hands.
I’m sorry. Please don’t look for me.
The words had followed me all morning.
Adam had insisted on staying behind with Bella. He had tried one last time to convince me to let him organize a search, but I couldn’t bring myself to agree.
Dante had asked for space. Whether I understood it or not, I couldn’t ignore the only thing he had asked of me.
But that didn’t stop the questions.
Where had he gone?
Had he eaten?
Was he alone?
Had he planned this for days while smiling at us across the breakfast table?
The thought hurt more than I wanted to admit.
My phone buzzed softly through the speakers.
Adam.
I pressed the button on the steering wheel. “Any news?”
His answer came after a brief pause. “No.”
I already knew what he was going to say before he said it.
“We’ve checked the security footage again. He left on foot just after four this morning. The guards offered to drive him, but he refused.”
I closed my eyes for a heartbeat before opening them again.
“I’ll keep trying,” Adam said gently. “If I hear anything, you’ll be the first to know.”
“I know.”
“Madam…” He hesitated. “You don’t have to go to lunch today.”
I looked through the windshield at the restaurant coming into view a short distance ahead.
“My father will worry if I cancel.”
“He’ll worry when he sees you.”
A tired smile touched my lips. “Probably.”
After ending the call, I pulled into the parking lot and switched off the engine.
A gentle knock on the driver’s window startled me. I turned to find one of the restaurant attendants smiling politely.
“Ma’am?”
I realized I’d been sitting there far longer than I intended. I forced myself to move and stepped out of the car.
My father was already waiting inside. He stood as soon as he saw me, his smile appeared automatically, warm and familiar, but it faded almost as quickly as it came.
“Elena.”
He walked around the table and wrapped me in a hug before saying another word.
His embrace was comforting. The kind that reminded me I was still someone’s daughter.
He pulled back slightly, studying my face. “You look tired.”
“I didn’t sleep much.”
“I can see that.”
He didn’t ask anything else, he pulled out my chair instead.
“Sit.”
I obeyed without protest.
A waiter approached almost immediately. My father didn’t even look at the menu.
“The grilled salmon for her,” he said. “Extra vegetables. And the lemon tea.”
The waiter nodded before turning to me.
I blinked. “That’s… exactly what I was going to order.”
My father smiled faintly. “You’ve been ordering the same thing here since you were twenty.”
“I didn’t know you remembered.”
“I remember more than you think.”
It was such a small thing….just a meal and a drink. Yet it reminded me that long before I became a wife… long before I became Bella’s mother… I had simply been his little girl.
For the first time since morning, the tightness in my chest threatened to become tears.
My father noticed. He reached across the table, resting one hand gently over mine.
“You don’t have to pretend with me.”
The words were spoken so quietly that they almost disappeared beneath the soft music playing through the restaurant.
But they were enough to crack the careful composure I had been holding together since dawn.
I lowered my eyes to the table. “Dante is gone.” The confession barely rose above a whisper.
My father’s hand tightened around mine. He didn’t interrupt or ask questions. And somehow, that made it easier to keep talking.
I reached into my handbag and pulled out the folded letter. The edges were already beginning to soften from how many times I had unfolded and read it.
“I found this on his bedside table.”
He accepted it carefully, reading every word before folding it again and sliding it back toward me.
I’m sorry. Please don’t look for me.
He looked up. “That’s all?”
I nodded. “That’s all.”
The silence stretched between us, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. It felt like permission to continue.
“I don’t understand it,” I admitted, my fingers tightening around the edge of the table. “Yesterday felt… normal. Better than normal, actually.”
I laughed once, but there was no humor in it.
“We had breakfast together. Bella wouldn’t stop talking. Mrs. Peters kept pretending she wasn’t laughing at Dante’s terrible pancakes. He smiled. He laughed.”
My throat tightened. “He looked happy.” I swallowed hard before continuing. “Ever since he came home, I knew something wasn’t right. He barely slept. I’d wake up in the middle of the night and he’d be standing by the window, staring into the darkness.”
I paused, remembering those nights. “I kept asking if he was alright. He always said he was and I wanted to believe him.”
My father remained silent.
“He became so… quiet as if he was standing in the middle of our home without ever really feeling like he was inside it.”
I stared at my hands. “I thought he just needed time.”
“I thought if I loved him enough… if Bella loved him enough… eventually he’d believe he belonged with us again.”
A painful smile crossed my face. “I didn’t realize he was slipping away while I was telling myself he was healing.”
The words cracked something inside me.
“I should have seen it. I should have known.”
“I kept asking him if he was okay, but maybe I wasn’t asking the right questions.”
A tear rolled down my cheek before I could stop it.
“When I found the letter…” I whispered, “all I could think was that I’d failed him.”
My father shifted slightly, but he still didn’t interrupt.
“I don’t know where he is. I don’t know if he’s eating or if he’s safe.”
“I don’t know whether he’s alone somewhere convincing himself we don’t need him.”
The tears came more freely now. “And I can’t even go after him because he asked me not to.”
I covered my eyes for a moment, taking an unsteady breath.
“When he was in prison, I counted the days until he came back. I told myself that once he came home, we’d finally have our life.”
“I never imagined I’d lose him again while he was standing right beside me.”
My voice softened. “I’ve never said this to anyone, not even to him.”
I looked across the table at my father.
“I love him.”