122
Rosa’s POV
The drive was quiet, the kind of quiet that felt alive, charged with words unspoken. Allesio sat beside me, one hand resting on the door, the other draped casually over his thigh. He was watching the road, though I could tell his mind was elsewhere, as it often was.
I wasn’t sure what made me think of this place or why I’d decided to bring him there. Maybe it was the look in his eyes lately-like he was carrying something too heavy to say out loud. Or maybe it was the growing knot in my chest, the part of me that wanted to trust him, even as another part whispered caution.
“Where are we going?” he finally asked, his voice low but curious.
“You’ll see,” I said, glancing at him briefly.
He raised a brow but didn’t push further. That was one of the things I liked about Allesio-he never demanded. He just waited, giving me the space to come to him on my terms.
The road narrowed as we left the city behind, winding through a stretch of trees until the car was surrounded by nothing but green. I turned onto a gravel path that led to a clearing, the engine kicking up dust as I parked near the edge.
“We’re here,” I said, cutting the engine.
Allesio stepped out and looked around, his sharp gaze taking in the overgrown grass, the wildflowers dotting the landscape, and the small stone bench tucked beneath a towering oak tree.
“This place…” He trailed off, turning to me as I climbed out of the car. “It’s beautiful. Peaceful.”
I smiled faintly. “It’s special. My father brought me here when I was younger. He said it was our little escape from the chaos.”
I walked ahead, leading him toward the bench. The air was fresh, the kind of crisp that carried the faint scent of earth and leaves. Allesio followed, his steps deliberate, as if he didn’t want to disturb the tranquility of the place.
“Your father?” he asked as we sat down, his voice softer now.
I nodded, tracing my fingers along the worn edge of the bench. “He always made time for me, no matter how busy he was. Even when I knew the family business was pulling him in a million directions, he’d drop everything to come here with me. He said it was important to remember the quiet moments, the ones that keep you grounded.”
Allesio didn’t say anything, but I could feel his attention, steady and unwavering.
I hesitated, unsure why I was about to share what I’d barely told anyone. But something about this place, about him, made it feel like the right moment.
“One summer, when I was sixteen, we sat here for hours,” I began. “It was a rough time for the family. A deal had gone south, and there were… threats.”
I glanced at him, gauging his reaction, but his expression remained neutral, his eyes fixed on mine.
“My father didn’t show it, but I could tell he was worried,” I continued. “He told me a story about when he was younger, about a choice he had to make. There was this alliance that could have brought the family a lot of power, but it came with a price-loyalty to people who didn’t share our values. He refused. Said no amount of power was worth compromising who we were.”
I paused, the memory tugging at me. “It cost us. The other family retaliated. We lost people. And for years, we were struggling to rebuild. But my father never regretted his decision. He said integrity was what kept us strong, even when it made us vulnerable.”
Allesio leaned back slightly, his gaze thoughtful. “That’s… rare. Most people wouldn’t make that choice.”
“My father isn’t like most people,” I said, a hint of pride in my voice.
He nodded, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he were weighing his next words carefully. “And you? Do you agree with him?”
I looked out at the clearing, at the way the sunlight filtered through the branches, casting dappled shadows on the ground. “I do. But sometimes, I wonder if it’s worth it. If the sacrifices we make for our values are just another way of setting ourselves up to be hurt.”
“Sacrifices always hurt,” he said quietly. “But they shape us. Define us.”
His words hung in the air, heavy with meaning. I turned to him, searching his face. There was something there, a flicker of… what? Regret? Pain? It was gone before I could be sure.
“What about you?” I asked, surprising myself. “What keeps you grounded?”
He looked away, his jaw tightening. For a moment, I thought he wouldn’t answer.
“Memories,” he said finally, his voice barely above a whisper. “Of who I used to be, before…”
“Before what?”
He met my gaze, and there was a rawness in his eyes that made my chest tighten. “Before everything got complicated.”
I wanted to ask more, to peel back the layers of this man who had become such a constant in my life. But I stopped myself. Maybe because I wasn’t sure I was ready for what I’d find.
We sat in silence for a while, the kind of silence that didn’t need to be filled. The wind rustled through the trees, and a bird called out somewhere in the distance.
“I’m glad you brought me here,” Allesio said eventually. “It means a lot.”
His words were simple, but it hit deep. I felt my defenses lowering, the walls I’d carefully built over the years softening just a little.
“I don’t bring many people here,” I admitted.
He smiled, and it was different from the ones he usually gave-less calculated, more genuine. “I’m honored.”
For a moment, I let myself believe him.
But as we drove back, the doubts crept in. Trust wasn’t something I gave easily, not in my world. And yet, with Allesio, I found giving in to him. Trusting him. I trusted him. And it didn’t seem like much of a bad thing.