Total pages in book: 105
Estimated words: 100561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100561 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Luca looks back at me from inside my office, his expression for once completely unreadable. For the first time since he woke up, he’s a stranger to me, and the realization hits me like a physical shove.
I want to clear it away, want to return to the space of familiarity—even if it’s just me, even if it’s one-sided. I want him to crack a joke about True Lies or Mission: Impossible and ease the tension again.
And then another realization lands: I’m expecting Luca to fix everything between us, like he always does.
Time to step the fuck up, Emery.
I walk over to the framed photo and Luca steps aside, watching as I shift it out of the way, revealing the safe.
“To answer the question I know you probably don’t want to ask: No, you didn’t know this was here. Or maybe you did, but you never said anything to me about it.”
There’s a long pause before he asks: “Would that be like me? To just let something like this slide?”
I enter the combination, a seven-digit code, before pressing my right thumb to the fingerprint scan. With a beep, the steel door swings open. Stepping back so Luca can look inside, I hold my breath, considering his question.
“Well,” I begin slowly, “the more I look at our marriage in the rearview mirror…” I watch him rifle through what’s there: certificates, handwritten notes and calculations, and of course the stacks of various currencies I’d put in there in case anything went seriously wrong with BioNEX and we had to get out of town quickly. “The more I think you knew from the get-go that there was something unknowable about me and, for a lot of reasons, you were always okay with someone close to you having a life that you weren’t a part of.” He drops a stack of bills and turns to face me, brows drawn, mouth turned down.
“I was?”
I nod. “And I think I found in you someone who always saw the positive in everything when I always assumed the world was just… broken.”
“Okay,” he says, measured as always, and I know him well enough to know that he’s waiting for me to expand on this.
With the secret no longer between us, I turn away from the safe and hold out my arm so I can help him to the living room. We settle on the couch, and I pull a knee up, turning to face him.
We gaze at each other for a long beat while I pull my thoughts together. How many times did he patiently watch me, out of adoration or teasing or steadiness, while I found my words?
Taking a deep breath, I say, “I think there was a piece in each of us that fit a broken part of the other… and maybe not always in a good way.”
A brief, sad smile flickers across his mouth.
“I mentioned earlier how you practically raised your sisters, but I wasn’t exaggerating. From what you’ve told me, your parents were barely ever home. They’re lovely people, don’t get me wrong, but I’d say they’re lovely as friends to their now-adult children. At some point, you said, you realized they weren’t the kind of people who ever relished or even liked being parents to small children or teenagers. It’s almost like it didn’t occur to them that they bore any responsibility to raise you.”
Luca acknowledges this information with a small jerk of his chin.
“So you essentially raised yourself, starting as young as five. You’d get up and make your lunch and walk the few blocks to school, then come home and let yourself into the house.”
“Where were my parents?”
“At work during the day. In the morning, they were home but probably sleeping. At night, they went out. They were incredibly social and always had plans for dinner, or game nights, or even overnight travel once you were a little older. And by older, I mean, like, ten.”
“Huh.”
“You told me once that when Ana and Sofia were born, it felt almost natural that they were your responsibility.”
Luca looks to the side as if he’s searching for the evidence of this somewhere out the front window. I can see the frustration in the lines across his forehead, the tension in his jaw as he seems to dig into the mental depths for any memories.
“Honestly, Luca, I don’t think you ever asked your parents where they were or why they weren’t home. You understood the rules and did what you needed to do.”
At this, he looks back at me. “You’re saying you think I did the same with you?”
I turn my face down, feeling the weight of this as we both fully connect the dots. “I think you’re programmed to take the good and not look too closely at the bad. I think that’s what initially drew me to you. You were so steadily happy. I’m sorry I took advantage of that, too.”