Page 140 of Pietro
We eat in relative quiet for a few minutes, the only sounds the clink of forks and Giulia humming at the stove. Then Ava sets down her coffee and looks directly at me.
"Nora, can I ask you something?"
My throat tightens. "Of course."
"What's happening with your fathers? Both of them?"
"I..." The words stick. How do I explain how I feel?
"It's complicated," I finally manage.
Ava's laugh is soft, understanding. "Everything in our world is."
"They helped rescue you," Vittoria points out gently.
"They did." I stare at my coffee. "They've been calling. Fiin keeps saying that he wants to meet, to explain more about my mother, about why he stayed away. I just... I don't know if I'm ready."
"Grief is strange," Ava says quietly. "Sometimes it's not about death. Sometimes it's mourning the life you thought you had, the people you thought you knew."
Her words hit deeper than she probably intended. That's exactly what this is—grief for the father I thought Connor was, for the family I believed in, for the identity that was never real.
"How do you move forward?" The question escapes before I can stop it.
Ava reaches across the table, her fingers barely brushing mine above the splints. "One step at a time. I suppose. We'll figure it out together. If you want to."
"I do. Thank you Ava. And Vittoria. It means a lot to me."
PIETRO
I push back from the table, the familiar weight of responsibility settling on my shoulders. "I need to get to my office. Shipments don't manage themselves."
"Pietro." Giulia's voice stops me at the doorway. "Could I speak with you? Just for a moment?"
The kitchen goes silent. Everyone knows what this is about. The conversation we've been avoiding for weeks. Giulia knew who Nora was when she brought her into our lives. She kept that secret from me.
"Okay." I say, knowing this must be done.
Giulia wipes her hands on her apron, movements precise despite the tremor in her fingers. We walk to my office in silence, our footsteps echoing through the hallway like a countdown.
I close the door behind us. The study feels too large suddenly, too formal for whatever's about to happen. Giulia stands near the window, her back to me, shoulders drawn tight.
"I think..." Her voice cracks. "I think it's time for me to leave the compound."
"What?" The word punches out of me. "Why would you?—"
She turns, and tears stream down her face.
"The only thing that kept me alive after I lost Pablo was you." Her voice breaks completely. "You showed me that my boy would always live among us because we loved him so much. Both of us."
My chest constricts, that familiar ache spreading through my ribs.
"You became my son too, Pietro. Not just Pablo's friend. My son." She presses a hand to her heart. "I love this entire family. Lorenzo with his gentle soul. Nico with his stubborn pride. Vittoria with her brilliant mind. Even Bruno, may he wake soon."
She takes a shuddering breath.
"But you..." Fresh tears spill over. "Knowing that you won't speak to me, that you can barely look at me because of my mistakes, my choices... I can't stand it. I can't live in this house feeling your anger every day."
"Giulia—"
