Chapter 8

Luca stared at the black silk tie.

Then he pulled Sophie closer.

“Sweetheart, listen to me. You don’t have to go anywhere.”

She looked up at him.

“Not even Monday?”

“Not Monday. Not next month. Not because somebody thinks our family would be easier without you.”

“But you already signed.”

Luca looked toward the papers scattered across the table.

“That’s what we’re going to settle right now.”

Vanessa had been standing near the fireplace.

When Luca turned toward her, she didn’t pretend to misunderstand.

“I know what you’re going to ask.”

“Then answer.”

She sat down slowly.

Luca spread the Briarfield documents across the table.

The educational consultation was dated three weeks earlier.

The residential application had been prepared nine days afterward.

But something on the final page caught his attention.

A section neither of us had noticed.

Proposed length of placement: Twelve weeks.

He read it twice.

Then looked up.

“Twelve weeks?”

Vanessa said nothing.

“You told me it was an introductory visit.”

“That was the original idea.”

“And when did it become three months?”

She rubbed her palms together.

“After the assessment.”

“After Sophie answered questions she didn’t understand?”

“Luca—”

“After you told her the wedding depended on her cooperation?”

Vanessa looked toward Sophie.

The little girl was sitting very still.

“I didn’t tell her the wedding depended on it.”

Luca picked up the blue envelope.

“Then what did you tell her?”

Vanessa’s voice grew thin.

“That if she continued fighting every change, I didn’t know how we could make this marriage work.”

Sophie looked down.

Luca waited.

Vanessa continued.

“I said I couldn’t keep getting married to a man whose daughter wanted everything to stay exactly as it was before his first wife died.”

The words were ugly.

But at least they were clear.

Luca glanced at Sophie.

“Sweetheart, did you think you were supposed to fix that?”

She nodded.

“Vanessa cried after we talked.”

Vanessa closed her eyes.

“She wasn’t supposed to see that.”

“But I did,” Sophie whispered.

Luca took a long breath.

Then he returned to the application.

There was another section.

Family contact during initial adjustment period.

An option had been selected.

Limited direct communication for the first thirty days, subject to parental review.

Luca stared at the check mark.

“Thirty days?”

Vanessa looked away.

“You agreed my daughter shouldn’t speak to me for thirty days?”

“It was one of the school’s options.”

“Did they recommend it?”

“No.”

“Did Sophie ask for it?”

“No.”

“Did I authorize it?”

Vanessa couldn’t answer.

Luca looked at the signature.

His own name stared back at him.

He turned to the consultation form.

The two signatures matched perfectly.

He laid a third document beside them.

It was the wedding vendor authorization he’d signed electronically several weeks earlier.

I recognized it from the household folder.

The signature was identical.

Even the slight gap between the letters M and o appeared in exactly the same place.

Luca looked at Vanessa.

“You used the signature from my original authorization.”

She stared at the papers.

“Vanessa.”

Her voice was barely audible.

“Yes.”

Sophie looked between them.

“What does that mean?”

Luca answered gently.

“It means Vanessa put my signature on something I never agreed to.”

The little girl frowned.

“Like copying?”

“Yes, baby.”

Vanessa covered her face.

“I knew you’d say no.”

That was the first completely unguarded thing she’d said all night.

Luca didn’t interrupt.

She lowered her hands.

“I knew you’d say no if I asked you to send Sophie away for a whole term. So I started with the consultation. Then I convinced myself that once you saw how well she was doing, you’d understand.”

“She hadn’t gone anywhere,” Luca said.

“I know.”

“And you didn’t know whether she’d do well.”

“I thought she’d be happier there.”

“Did you?”

Vanessa looked at Sophie.

The girl sat with her mother’s coat across her knees, a torn handkerchief beside her, and a handmade tie she’d believed was a goodbye gift.

Vanessa began crying quietly.

“No,” she admitted. “I thought I would be happier.”

Nobody spoke.

She wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand.

“I thought if Sophie was away for a while, we’d finally learn how to be married. I thought she’d come back and things would be different.”

“Different how?” Luca asked.

“Maybe she’d be ready to accept me.”

“By making her feel she had to earn her way back?”

Vanessa lowered her head.

“I kept telling myself the school was good. That she would be safe. That it wasn’t cruel because I wasn’t sending her somewhere terrible.”

Luca looked at the documents.

“Did you intend to tell me before our honeymoon?”

Vanessa hesitated.

“No.”

His expression hardened.

“The school was expecting her Monday.”

“I planned to explain once she was settled.”

“And what were you going to tell me?”

“That she wanted to try it.”

Luca closed his eyes.

Finally, the whole arrangement made sense.

Vanessa had told Sophie her father wanted her to go.

She’d told the school Sophie wanted to leave.

She’d planned to tell Luca his daughter had chosen the placement.

Three different versions.

All designed to keep the two people who mattered from talking to each other.

The school had accepted preliminary paperwork. Final verification was still pending.

But Vanessa had already arranged the transportation.

She’d packed Sophie’s belongings.

She’d prepared the child to leave quietly.

Luca looked at the blue envelope.

Then at the little girl who’d spent three weeks sewing him a farewell gift.

He spoke with painful calm.

“You were willing to let my daughter believe I didn’t want her so you wouldn’t have to hear me say no.”

Vanessa began crying harder.

“I love you, Luca.”

“I believe you.”

She looked up hopefully.

Then he continued.

“But you made my child afraid of losing my love. And when she tried to tell you, you made her responsible for keeping ours together.”

Vanessa’s face crumpled.

“I don’t know how to fix this.”

Luca looked at Sophie.

Neither did he.

Not yet.

But there was one decision he no longer doubted.

He removed the engagement ring box from his jacket pocket.

He’d carried it all evening, planning to give Vanessa a small wedding gift after dessert.

He placed it unopened on the table.

Then he looked directly at her.

“Vanessa, I’m not marrying you tomorrow.”

Share