241

241
Emilia’s POV
I paced the living room, my phone clutched tightly in my hand as I stared at the screen. No new notifications. Again. This silent treatment from Matteo was deafening, and it wasn’t just the silence, it was what it meant. Every unanswered call and every ignored text felt like a slap to the face. It reminded me of how badly I’d messed things up.
This wasn’t like him. Matteo didn’t hold grudges. He was the one who made jokes to diffuse tension, the one who hugged me when I didn’t even know I needed it. But now, he was the one shutting me out, and it was all my fault.
“Are you going to keep pacing, or are you actually going to do something about it?” Alaric’s voice broke through my thoughts. He was lounging on the couch, a glass of bourbon in his hand, watching me like I was some sort of spectacle.
“I am doing something,” I snapped, waving my phone at him. “I’ve called him at least twenty times, and I’ve sent texts-apologies, explanations-everything! He won’t respond.”
Alaric raised an eyebrow, taking a slow sip of his drink. “Maybe that’s your answer, Emilia.”
I stopped pacing and turned to him, anger bubbling under my skin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
He set his glass down on the coffee table, leaning back like he had all the time in the world. “It means Matteo’s a grown man. If he doesn’t want to talk to you, maybe you should respect that.”
I crossed my arms, glaring at him. “I can’t just not talk to him, Alaric. He’s my brother. He’s mad at me because I-”
“Because you stuck your nose where it didn’t belong?” Alaric cut me off, his tone maddeningly calm.
I opened my mouth to argue, but the words caught in my throat. He wasn’t wrong. As much as I wanted to justify it, to tell myself I was just looking out for Matteo, the truth was ugly and undeniable. I’d judged Gianna without really knowing her, and I’d made it clear that I didn’t think she was good enough for him.
And now, he was paying the price for my arrogance.
“I didn’t mean to ruin things for him,” I said quietly, sinking onto the edge of the armchair. My shoulders slumped as my guilt pressed down on me. “I just… I didn’t think she was the right person for him. I was trying to protect him.”
Alaric let out a short laugh, though there was no humor in it. “Protect him from what? Happiness?”
I glared at him again, but the fight had drained out of me. “You didn’t see her the way I did, Alaric. She’s… she’s so different from him. She’s older, and she’s-”
“She’s not who you would’ve chosen for him,” Alaric finished, his tone sharp now. “But that’s the point, Emilia. It’s not your choice.”
I buried my face in my hands, letting out a frustrated groan. “I know that. God, I know that. But what am I supposed to do now? He hates me, Alaric. He’s never been this angry at me before.”
Alaric leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees as he studied me. “Do you really think Matteo hates you?”
I lifted my head, my eyes burning from all the tears I was fighting to keep in. “He won’t talk to me. He won’t even acknowledge me. What else am I supposed to think?”
Alaric sighed, running a hand through his hair. “Matteo doesn’t hate you. He’s hurt. There’s a difference.”
I scoffed. “That doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“Maybe it should,” he said firmly. “If he’s hurt, it means he still cares. And if he still cares, there’s a chance you can fix this. But you need to stop wallowing in guilt and figure out how to make it right.”
I stared at him, the knot in my chest tightening. “How do I do that? How do I fix something I broke so badly?”
Alaric shrugged, his expression softening just a fraction. “You start by admitting you were wrong. Not just to Matteo, but to yourself. You can’t undo what’s already done, Emilia, but you can try to move forward.”
I sat back in the chair, his words sinking in. He made it sound so simple, but in reality, it wasn’t. Every time I thought about reaching out to Gianna, my stomach twisted with anxiety. What could I possibly say to her that would make up for the way I’d treated her?
And even if I did apologize, would it matter? Matteo had already said she wasn’t speaking to him anymore. She’d probably moved on, and the thought of that made my heart ache for Matteo. And I hated myself so damn much right now for taking his happiness away from him.
“I don’t think she’d even listen to me,” I admitted quietly.
“Maybe not,” Alaric said. “But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t try.”
I looked at him, searching for some sign that he was joking, but his expression was unreadable. He was serious. He really thought I could fix this.
I wasn’t so sure.
“I don’t know if I can,” I said, my throat tight. “What if I just make things worse?”
Alaric leaned back, picking up his glass again. “You’re good at that,” he said dryly. “But you’re also stubborn as hell. If anyone can fix this, it’s you.”
His words were blunt, but there was a strange comfort in them. He wasn’t sugarcoating things or pretending it would be easy. He was just… Alaric. Honest, infuriating, and somehow exactly what I needed in that moment.
I stood up, my legs shaky but determined. “I need to figure out what to say.”
Alaric smirked, raising his glass in a mock toast. “Good luck with that.”
I shot him a half-hearted glare before heading to our room, my mind racing with different thoughts of how I could fix things. I didn’t know if Matteo would ever forgive me, or if Gianna would even give me the chance to apologize. But I had to try at least.