Chapter 117
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fot turuts shunt rent as the Fisspell thrk in huit of su
kawe let om a harsh laugh, the sound him, shrink through the rum tit* ** *** the think he had slowly. Ws, insytu Because you clear’s got it of the buby the sand evidence of that mistake and dented to forget about it altogather and ver I did maar sommer that werk, when you were gone, yes, 1 did sleep with hot and yes, Mies withthe product of that, and fie en verdet for it post more apologized a thousand times, accigned every bit of blame and shame that me my way this new grave quilter, charger sur The ware of it too. For the entirety of our short mattisge, I stood by, took the punishment as if it were mine alors, and let the world pont me a the one who ruined everything. For you”
She looked up at him, her mouth open, but she said nothing, her face stricken.
“But while I’ve accepted the blame, I’m not going to stand here and let you condemn my child,” he said, his voies rough but steady. Twon’t stand by while you call him names, act like he’s something shameful, like he’s some kind of blemish on your ‘perfect new life. He pansed, his gaze hardening as he met her eyes, his voice low. “And before you call him an affair baby again, maybe remember your own mistake–the one you’ve tried so hard to bury. The one you hid from your family. You’ve made me live with my choices every day, Carlotta. But you don’t get to pretend that your own past doesn’t exist. Nico’s not a dirty secret. He’s not a ‘mistake‘ I want to erase.”
Carlotta looked like a deer caught in headlights, her face white as a sheet, her eyes wide. She looked like she wanted to shrink back, disappear into the couch, her hands twisting together tightly. Her voice was barely a whisper, her gaze flickering around as if checking to make sure no one else had overheard. “That was… years ago,” she mumbled, her voice shaking. “And it was a…..a…..”
Luca let out a breath, a bitter smile twisting his lips as he took in her cowering form, the fear written all over her face. “A mistake” he echoed his voice hardening, anger rising again. “Maybe it was. But Nico’s birth wasn’t a mistake, Carlotta. He’s not a secret I want to hide away, not something I regret. He’s a part of me, my son. And no matter what you think of me or what happened that week, he’s not something to bury in
shame.”
His voice grew louder, more intense, his anger barely contained. “Nico was born out of love, out of a moment that was real and honest. He’s not something I’ll ever apologize for again.” His words echoed through the room, and he could hear voices and footsteps approaching, others in the house drawn by the sound. He whirled around and left the room, he was in no mood for chitchatting.
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Sara Lili is a daring romance writer who turns icy landscapes into scenes of fiery passion. She loves crafting hot love stories while embracing the chill of Iceland’s breathtaking cold.
