“It’s never easy. Believe me. I’ll be here for you.”
I stare at him, not sure what to say. Why would he want anything to do with some random grieving woman? Just because I wear his ring doesn’t mean he owes me that.
But it’s kind of him, and I’ve been enough of a dick lately. “Thank you. But don’t be surprised if I don’t take you up on that.”
“I figured that’s what you’d say.” He smiles sadly and hugs me one more time. “But you can change your mind.”
I slip out of his grip and swallow against the tears. I’m not getting emotional just because this guy’s being kind to me. I can handle my father’s sickness without his help.
Still, there’s a tenderness I didn’t expect from Luca.
I have to walk ahead of him with my arms hugging my middle so he doesn’t see the tears in my eyes.
Chapter 12
Fiorella
Itry to shake off the meeting with my father, but I keep thinking about his thin face and his sad smile. It’s impossible to imagine our family without him.
Even though he failed me and Elisa in a dozen little ways, I still love him. And I still don’t want to lose him.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to stick around?” Luca watches me from across the kitchen. He stands on the other side of the room like he’s not sure if he can come any closer.
Not that I can blame him. My grief must feel contagious.
“I’m fine. Honestly, you can go.”
He hesitates, clearly torn. “Make yourself at home,” he says at last, turning away. “I’ll be upstairs in my office if you need me.”
Then he leaves. I wrap my arms around myself and stand in the quiet. I feel a sudden rush of relief knowing I won’t be alone in here. Even though he’s giving me space, at least he’s staying in the house. He doesn’t owe me that, but he’s doing it anyway. And I honestly don’t know why.
We’re just fake spouses. I’m a signature on a document. I’m initials at the bottom of a contract. Nothing more.
It’s strange looking around the completely unfamiliar house. This is going to be mine from now on. It’s a decent Philly row home, on the larger side, in a very good neighborhood deep in the heart of Marino territory. He clearly put some work into this place over the years. The kitchen’s been modernized with all new gleaming appliances and a contemporary feel. The living room’s filled with a big comfortable couch, small decorations on bookshelves, and a modernist-looking table. All very expensive.
He’s got decent taste. I’ll give him that. I expected a frat house, but got a high-end bachelor pad instead. There’s not a lot of personality—mostly he’s got generic paintings and photographs on the wall—but at least everything is high-end and luxurious. I’m already thinking about how I’ll add a splash of green by hanging planters near the big back window and up on the second-floor landing.
I move quietly through the house, checking out all the rooms except for his office. That door is closed, and I don’t want to open it right now. Not with him on the other side.
The master bedroom is spacious and comfortable. I like the updated master bathroom too. I poke my head into the closet and frown at all the empty space; clearly, someone needs to hang more stuff in here. My dresses will do nicely.
I yelp when I come back out. Luca’s standing near the bed, plugging his phone into a cable on the nightstand. He glances at me over his shoulder, frowning slightly. “Forgot you weren’t alone?”
“No, sorry,” I say, heart racing. “Just didn’t hear you, that’s all.”
“Floorboards don’t make much noise. I hate it when they creak.”
“Good to know.” I catch my breath and glance toward the door. “Listen, I should go back home and start packing. I have a lot of stuff to bring over.”
He shakes his head. “Can’t let you do that.”
“What do you mean?”
“Not safe.”
I stare at him, trying to figure out if he’s kidding. But like usual, Luca only looks back at me impassively. “So how am I supposed to get my clothes over here?”
“Call your sister.”
