Between Loyalty and You

Chapter 14 (Elena's POV)

On Christmas morning, Luca passed me the coffee before I asked.

Our fingers touched around the handle.

Neither of us pulled away quickly enough.

“Did you sleep?” he asked.

“Eventually.”

Papa had stayed until nearly four. I remembered waking once to find him asleep in the chair, his chin tucked against his chest.

Luca nodded.

Across the table, my aunt began an argument about whether presents should be opened before breakfast.

“After,” Papa said. “Otherwise nobody eats.”

“You’ve been saying that for thirty years.”

“And for thirty years, nobody has listened.”

I smiled into my cup.

By the window, Luca watched me for a moment before looking down at his plate.

He hadn’t left early. He hadn’t buried himself in his phone.

After last night, I had half expected to find his chair empty.

Instead, he was here, passing butter to my cousin and answering questions about the weather as though I hadn’t held him against me in the dark.

I was grateful.

I was also painfully aware of him.

Papa waited until Rosa had set down the last dish before mentioning the nightmare.

“Elena gave us a fright last night.”

My aunt turned toward me.

“Are you all right?”

“Yes.”

“She had a bad dream. Luckily, Luca heard her.”

The conversation slowed.

I kept my eyes on my cup.

Papa reached across to touch Luca’s arm.

“Thank you again. I’m glad you were there.”

“Of course.”

His voice was steady.

Mine wouldn’t have been.

“She’s had enough excitement for one year,” my aunt said, putting another pastry on my plate.

Thankfully, my cousin chose that moment to spill coffee across the table.

Everyone moved at once.

I stood to fetch a cloth, relieved to have something useful to do.

When I returned, Luca had gathered the wet napkins and was helping Rosa clear the mess.

He looked up.

For a moment, I remembered his hand against my face.

Then Papa asked me to pass the jam.

After breakfast, the family moved into the sitting room.

There were gifts beneath the tree and far too many people claiming they had bought “only something small.”

Papa handed me a flat parcel wrapped in silver paper.

Inside was a photograph of my mother at my age, sitting on the terrace with her shoes beside her chair.

“I found it in a box upstairs,” he said.

I ran my thumb along the frame.

“She looks happy.”

“She was arguing with me.”

“That explains it.”

He laughed and pulled me against his side.

Across the room, Luca stood beside the fireplace.

He was smiling.

I let myself look at him until my father released me.

I found Luca in the dining room half an hour later, collecting empty glasses.

“Rosa frightened you into helping?”

“She’s been doing that since I was nineteen.”

He set the glasses on a tray.

I stopped beside the table.

“Can we talk?”

His expression changed.

“Yes.”

“There’s nobody in the small sitting room.”

He nodded and followed me.

I left the door partly open.

From the hallway, we could hear my cousins arguing over the rules of a card game.

For a moment, the ordinary noise helped.

Then I turned toward him.

“Last night wasn’t a mistake.”

He looked at me carefully.

“I didn’t think it was.”

“I wanted to make sure.”

“You were upset. I wasn’t certain how you’d feel this morning.”

“I was frightened before I kissed you. I knew what I was doing when I did.”

“All right.”

I folded my arms, then unfolded them.

“But I haven’t forgotten why I left.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want us to pretend a kiss answered everything.”

“Neither do I.”

There was no impatience in him. No attempt to reach for me.

I had wanted him to touch me all morning.

Now that we were alone, I was grateful he waited.

“Tell me about Sunday,” I said.

His gaze lowered briefly.

“The day we were supposed to meet?”

“Yes.”

He took a breath.

“Your father called just before I left. He had returned from Switzerland early.”

I frowned.

“He didn’t come back until Friday.”

“He came back on Sunday. He asked me to keep it quiet.”

The room seemed to grow smaller.

“Why?”

“Someone had searched his hotel room. A man he’d arranged to meet had disappeared.”

I stared at him.

“Was he hurt?”

“No.”

“Was someone following him?”

“We were concerned about that. Marco checked his route and arranged security at the house.”

I moved toward the window.

Outside, the terrace chairs had been pushed against the wall for winter.

“Was it connected to the shooting?”

“Yes.”

The answer made my stomach tighten.

For weeks, Papa had told me there was nothing new.

Luca stayed where he was.

“He was frightened, Elena. More than he wanted to admit. He asked me to be there when he arrived.”

“Of course he did.”

I turned.

“I would have understood that.”

“I know.”

“No. I need you to hear me. If you had told me my father needed you because something had happened, I wouldn’t have sat in my apartment thinking you’d changed your mind about seeing me.”

His face tightened.

“I should have told you.”

“Why didn’t you?”

“He asked me not to worry you.”

I looked at him for a long moment.

“And I asked you not to shut me out.”

“Yes.”

“How do you decide which promises you keep?”

He had no immediate answer.

Beyond the door, someone laughed.

I wished we were arguing somewhere ordinary. Somewhere my father wasn’t only a room away, surrounded by people who loved him.

“At the time, I didn’t stop considering it that way,” Luca said. “He asked, and I agreed. I’ve done that for years.”

“And where does that leave me?”

He rubbed a hand across his jaw.

“On that Sunday, waiting for an explanation you should have had.”

I swallowed.

There was relief in knowing he understood.

It arrived too late to spare me the memory.

“I put on a blue blouse,” I said.

His eyes lifted.

“What?”

“For lunch. I changed three times, and then I wore the blue one.”

He went still.

I hated how close I was to crying.

“I know it’s a stupid detail.”

“It isn’t.”

“I bought coffee in case you came upstairs afterward.”

He looked down.

For the first time since telling me about Papa, he seemed unable to speak.

“I had a bag packed,” he said eventually.

I looked at him.

“I didn’t know whether you’d want to spend more than lunch together. I booked a hotel, so I wouldn’t have to leave if you did.”

That hurt, too.

Knowing there had been a day we both wanted, waiting on either side of a message.

“Why are we so bad at this?” I whispered.

His mouth moved without becoming a smile.

“I’ve given you very little practice at anything except being disappointed.”

I looked away.

He let the silence settle.

Then I asked a question I had been avoiding.

“If Papa asks you to stay away from me, what will you do?”

Luca’s gaze met mine.

His hesitation was brief.

It was still there.

“I don’t want to give you an easy answer just because I’m afraid you’ll leave this room.”

“I’d rather have the truth.”

“I would find it very difficult to hurt him.”

My throat tightened.

“But I’ve already hurt you,” he continued. “Avoiding the decision hasn’t protected anyone.”

“That still isn’t an answer.”

“No,” he said quietly. “It isn’t.”

I nodded.

There was nothing cruel in his honesty.

That didn’t make it easy to hear.

I moved toward the door.

Luca stepped aside.

He didn’t catch my wrist. Didn’t ask me to forget the question.

His restraint almost undid me.

I stopped with my hand against the door frame.

“Do you want me to stay?”

“Yes.”

“Then ask me.”

He drew a breath.

“Stay, Elena.”

I turned toward him.

“Because?”

“Because I want to spend time with you. Because I’ve missed you, and I’m tired of using your father’s name whenever I’m afraid to say what I want.”

His voice roughened.

“Because I wanted you in Florence. I wanted you every day you were in my house, and I should have come to your door.”

I crossed the short distance between us.

He lifted his hand, then paused.

I leaned into it.

His thumb brushed my cheek.

For a moment, we simply stood there.

Then I kissed him.

He answered slowly, his free hand settling at my waist. I gripped the front of his sweater and felt him draw a careful breath before kissing me again.

There was no nightmare to explain it.

No confusion.

Only daylight through the window and his mouth against mine.

When we stopped, I rested my forehead against his.

“I can believe you want me and still be afraid you’ll hurt me again.”

“I know.”

“I don’t want another promise you make because I’m close enough to kiss.”

His hand remained warm at my back.

“Then I won’t make one.”

I closed my eyes.

I wished that answer didn’t comfort me.

But he stayed with me through the silence, without trying to turn it into forgiveness.

Papa called my name from the hallway.

“Come and settle this. Apparently, nobody in this family remembers the rules.”

I stepped back.

This time, Luca didn’t turn away from me.

“I should go,” I said.

“Yes.”

I smoothed the front of his sweater where my hands had creased it.

Then I let go.

“My train is still tomorrow afternoon.”

He nodded.

“Would you like a lift to the station?”

“I’ve arranged one.”

“All right.”

There was disappointment in his face.

He allowed me to see it.

I returned to the sitting room and took the place Papa had saved beside him. A few minutes later, Luca joined us and sat opposite.

My cousin began explaining the disputed rule.

I listened.

Under the table, my hands were still trembling.

I tucked them beneath my knees and stayed where I was.