Between Loyalty and You

Chapter 7 (Elena's POV)

For a week, Luca kept his distance.

He no longer disappeared completely. That might have been easier.

He asked about my recovery at breakfast. Held doors when we met in the corridor. Once, he moved a chair into the shade before I sat down.

He was considerate.

I began to hate that word.

Every evening, I listened for footsteps outside my room.

Every morning, I told myself I wouldn’t do it again.

On the seventh day, Anna examined my wound, checked her notes, and told me I could travel if I took things slowly.

I waited until she left before opening the train schedule.

Marta answered on the second ring.

“Tell me you’ve come to your senses and decided to stay somewhere with decent weather.”

“Is my apartment still standing?”

“Unfortunately. The landlord claims he’s fixed the leak.”

“Has he?”

“It hasn’t rained. His confidence remains untested.”

I smiled for the first time that morning.

“Can you meet me at the station tomorrow?”

There was a pause.

“Tomorrow?”

“If you’re busy—”

“I’m not. Send me the time.”

I looked at the open wardrobe.

“Could you bring someone to help with my bag? I’m still supposed to avoid lifting.”

“I’ll bring Paolo. He owes me money.”

“That seems fair.”

“Elena?”

“Yes?”

“Are you all right?”

I sat on the edge of the bed.

“I think I need to come home.”

Her voice softened.

“Then come home.”

Packing took longer than it should have.

I folded three shirts and needed to sit down. My charger had slipped behind the bedside table. One earring had disappeared into the lining of my bag.

Small inconveniences. Useful ones.

They kept me occupied until I reached the sketchbook.

The lemon tree filled the first page after my drawing of the gunman’s wrist. Beyond it were the harbor painting, a corner of the library, Rosa’s hands resting around a cup.

On the last used page, I had drawn Luca.

He hadn’t known.

He was reading by the terrace window, one finger resting against his mouth. I had tried to capture the slight crease between his eyebrows.

I closed the book and packed it.

For a while, I sat beside the suitcase, listening to the house.

I had wanted him to come to me.

That was the humiliating truth beneath everything else. Even after our conversation in his study, even after I had told him I wouldn’t keep looking for him, I had imagined a knock.

An apology that became a conversation.

A conversation that ended with him staying.

Instead, he had given me space so thoroughly that I could no longer pretend it was temporary.

I took a sheet of paper from the bedside drawer.

The first attempt sounded angry.

The second sounded as though I was asking him to stop me.

I tore both into small pieces.

Then I began again.

Luca,

By the time you read this, I’ll be on my way to Florence. Anna has cleared me to travel, and Marta will meet me at the station. I’ve arranged help with my luggage. You don’t need to worry about whether I can manage the stairs.

I should have told you I was leaving. I know that. But I couldn’t face another polite conversation in which we both pretended there was nothing else to say.

There is something I never told you.

What happened between us, however briefly, was something I had dreamed about for longer than you realize.

I don’t mean when I was a child. I mean these last few years, when I came home from Florence and found myself wondering whether you would be at dinner. When I noticed you listening, even while everyone else assumed you were occupied. When ten minutes on a terrace could stay with me long after I had returned to my own life.

I kept those feelings to myself because wanting you seemed impossible. Then, for a little while, it wasn’t.

You should know that I will never regret kissing you. I won’t regret the library, or your study, or the few quiet moments when you let yourself reach for me.

But I can’t keep waiting for those moments to return.

I’ve spent this week trying to work out how to make you comfortable around me again. I’ve watched what I said, where I stood, whether I stayed in a room too long. I don’t want to become someone who is grateful merely because you haven’t left the breakfast table.

Perhaps distance will help. Perhaps, back in Florence, I’ll stop listening for you outside my door. Maybe I’ll forget enough of how it felt to begin moving on.

That is what I need to try.

Please tell Papa I’m safe. I’ll call him when I arrive. This is my decision, and I don’t want you blamed for it.

Thank you for saving my life. Thank you for the care you took with me afterward.

What I felt for you was never repayment for either.

Elena

I read it once.

Then I folded it before I could soften the parts that needed to stay.

His name looked unfamiliar in my handwriting.

I left the envelope beneath the lamp beside my bed.

At dinner, Luca asked whether Anna had visited.

“Yes.”

“What did she say?”

“That I’m healing well.”

He nodded.

“Good.”

I waited, though I didn’t know what for.

Rosa served the fish. Luca asked whether I wanted more water. Somewhere in the entrance hall, Marco answered his phone.

The house went on functioning around us.

“Will you be out tomorrow?” I asked.

“Early. There’s a meeting in Milan.”

I lowered my fork.

“For the day?”

“Most of it.”

“All right.”

He looked at me more closely.

“Did you need something?”

There was still time.

I could tell him about the ticket. I could ask whether this week had been difficult for him, too.

But I had already stood in his study and asked him to speak.

“No,” I said. “Nothing.”

His car left shortly after seven.

I heard it from my room while I buttoned my coat.

For several minutes, I stood beside the suitcase without moving.

Then I picked up my handbag.

Rosa met me in the corridor.

Her eyes went straight to the luggage.

“Oh, Elena.”

The gentleness almost undid me.

“I’m going home.”

“Does Luca know?”

“I’ve left him a letter.”

She looked toward my room.

I held out the suitcase handle.

“Would you help me get this to the entrance? I’ve ordered a car.”

She didn’t take it immediately.

“Are you certain?”

“No,” I admitted. “But I’m going.”

Rosa nodded.

At the front door, Marco came in from outside.

“You’re leaving?”

“My train is at nine.”

“I’ll call Luca.”

“Please don’t.”

His hand remained near his pocket.

I could see the problem in his face. His employer had left him responsible for someone who had just made that responsibility inconvenient.

“Anna says I can travel,” I told him. “Luca said I could return to Florence once I was cleared. Marta is meeting me.”

“I should drive you.”

“The car’s already coming.”

“Cancel it.”

I almost argued.

Then Rosa touched my arm.

“Let him get you safely to the station.”

I was tired already.

“All right.”

Marco took my suitcase.

Rosa embraced me carefully, one hand smoothing the back of my coat.

“You have my number,” she said.

“I know.”

“Use it.”

I nodded against her shoulder.

At the station, Marco carried my bag onto the train and placed it where I could reach it.

He checked my seat number twice.

“You’ll call when someone meets you?”

“Yes.”

He hesitated in the aisle.

“Signorina—”

“Elena.”

“Elena.” His expression softened. “Take care of yourself.”

After he stepped onto the platform, I watched him take out his phone.

I hadn’t expected him to keep my departure secret forever.

Only long enough for me to leave.

My own phone lay face down in my lap.

When the train moved, I pressed my hand against the window ledge.

There was no dramatic relief.

I felt sad, sore, and slightly foolish about the expensive ticket I had bought at the last minute.

Then my phone began to vibrate.

Luca.

I watched his name until the call ended.

A message followed.

Marco says you’re leaving. Please answer.

I closed my eyes.

He hadn’t found the letter yet.

For a moment, I pictured him calling the house, Rosa going to my room, the envelope being lifted from beneath the lamp.

I typed carefully.

I’m safe. There’s a letter beside my bed. Please read it.

My thumb hovered before I sent a second message.

I need to get home.

This time, the phone stayed quiet.

Outside, the lake appeared between the trees, then vanished behind a row of buildings.

I kept watching long after there was nothing left to see.