Alessandro's hand rested lightly on Amara’s back as they walked toward her room.
Amara held Vaughn's small hand in hers.
From the back, they looked like perfect family.
When they reached the door, Vaughn first entered the room.
Amara paused in the doorway, glancing back at Alessandro. His eyes held a tenderness that should have comforted her, but all it did was deepen the ache inside her chest.
“Thanks,” she said quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She didn’t have the strength to say more, to delve into the complexities of gratitude mixed with guilt.
Alessandro smiled softly, that warm, kind smile that had always put her at ease. “No problem. It’s my duty,” he replied, his voice filled with a sincerity that made her want to cry. He was everything she should want—a good man,
