Page 40 of Veil of the Past
As I sit here, surrounded by the warmth and support of Mara and Valentina, a quiet resolve begins to form inside me. I may not have all the answers yet, but I know that I can’t keep living in the shadows, waiting for someone who may never be willing to give me what I need.
I take a deep breath and lift my head, meeting their gazes with a small, tentative smile. “Thank you,” I say softly, my voice filled with a quiet gratitude. “For being here. For everything.”
Mara smiles gently, her shy demeanor shining through as she leans closer. “What are best friends for?” she asks, and I can hear the warmth in her voice.
Valentina wraps an arm around my shoulders, her embrace comforting and steadying. “We’re here for you. Always,” she says.
And in this moment, I know that no matter what happens, I won’t be walking this path alone. With their support, I feel a flicker of hope ignite within me. And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough to get me through this.
19
ALESSIA
The elevator doors slide open with a softding, and I step out into the dimly lit entrance of Romiro’s apartment. My heart pounds against my ribs like a drumbeat, my breath coming in shallow, uneven bursts.
I take a deep breath and try to steady myself. I can’t back down now. I’ve been thinking about this for days, weeks even, and I need to know where we stand.
Romiro’s standing in the doorway of his bedroom, his dark eyes almost undressing me, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. He’s wearing a simple black T-shirt and jeans, casual, relaxed as if he didn’t have a care in the world. But his eyes—his eyes are darker than usual, like he knows why I’m here, like he’s been waiting for this moment just as much as I have.
"Alessia," he says softly, pulling the cigarette from his mouth, and exhaling a plume of smoke that curls around his face like a cloud. "What are you doing here?"
I step into the apartment, not waiting for an invitation. The place smells like him—smoke, leather, and something distinctly Romiro. The low lights cast long shadows across the walls, the city glowing faintly through the floor-to-ceiling windows that overlook the skyline.
“We need to talk,” I say, my voice coming out stronger than I feel.
He closes the door behind him, turning slowly, his expression carefully neutral. “About?”
I take a deep breath, trying to steady the tremor in my voice. “About us,” I say, meeting his gaze. “About what we’re doing. I can’t keep going like this, Romiro. I need to know where we stand.”
He raises an eyebrow, leaning back against the door, his arms crossing over his chest. “We’ve been over this, Red. What do you mean?”
I feel a spark of frustration flare up inside me. “No, we haven’t,” I insist. “We keep dancing around it, pretending like we’re okay with this… this in-between. But I’m not okay with it anymore. I don’t want to be your dirty little secret. I don’t want to hide from my family, from anyone. I want us to be real, out in the open. I want to be with you, Romiro. Publicly.”
He lets out a sigh, a small, almost irritated sound, and pushes off the door, stepping closer to me. “And what do you think that looks like, Alessia?” he asks, his voice calm but edged with something sharp. “You think your family’s just going to welcome me with open arms?”
I lift my chin, refusing to back down. “I don’t care what they think,” I say firmly. “I care what you think. I care about us, and I think we’d be stronger together, facing them, facing everything, instead of hiding.”
He looks at me for a long moment, his eyes narrowing slightly. “This is about control, isn’t it?” he asks quietly. “You want control over this, over me.”
I feel my frustration build, my voice rising. “No, Romiro! This is about respect! About not being hidden like some dirty little secret. I want to be with you. I want everyone to know. Why is that so hard for you to understand?”
He laughs, a low, bitter sound that cuts through me like a knife. “Because it’s not that simple, Alessia. It’s never that simple. You should know that by now.”
I take a step closer, refusing to let him dismiss me. “I do know that Romiro. But I also know that I’m done hiding. I’m done pretending that I’m okay with being kept in the dark. It’s either all or nothing.”
He blinks, his jaw tightening, and for a moment, something flickers in his eyes—fear, maybe, or anger. “You’re giving me an ultimatum?” he asks, his voice dropping to a low, dangerous whisper.
I nod, my heart hammering in my chest. “Yes. I am. Either we do this, or we end it. I won’t waste my time with someone who’s too afraid to admit he cares.”
His eyes darken, his expression hardening. “Alessia,” he warns, his tone cold, “you don’t know what you’re asking for.”
I take a step back, my hands trembling. “Maybe I do,” I say softly. “Maybe I know exactly what I’m asking for.”
For a second, I think I see his resolve waver, but then his expression shifts, his eyes narrowing, a cruel twist to his lips. “You should go,” he says flatly, his voice like ice. “You’ve had a busy week. You’re tired. Go home.”
I feel the sting of his words, sharp and cold, like a slap to the face. My throat tightens, my chest aching with the weight of his dismissal. “That’s it?” I whisper, my voice breaking. “That’s all you have to say?”
He doesn’t answer, just looks away, his jaw clenched tight. “Go home, Alessia,” he repeats, turning his back on me.
