A chuckle escaped her lips, not out of humor but from the absurdity of it all. The idea of Rowan as a “good person” was a cruel joke. Rowan was anything but good person.
But Vaughn was her world, and she couldn’t bear to shatter his innocent perception. How could she explain to him the complexity of her feelings for Rowan? How could she convey the danger and allure wrapped up in that name?
Amara forced a gentle smile, “Mm, he is a good person,” she said, her voice betraying none of the internal conflict she felt. Vaughn’s face brightened with a contented smile, and he nestled closer into his pillow, his eyelids fluttering shut as he drifted off to sleep.
The next day, Leo and Emery were buzzing with excitement as they packed up for their honeymoon in Barcelona, Spain. Amara watched from the doorway, feeling content for her brother and her sister in law.
Leo was going to start a new life from now on.. in Russia.. although she was happy for him, but she still felt little emptiness in her heart..
In the late afternoon, most of the guests had left, along with her parents.
The house felt eerily quiet. It was like a collective sigh of relief had swept through, leaving behind a heavy silence.
Alessandro, who had stayed behind to help with the aftermath of the wedding, moved around the hotel with his usual calm efficiency.
His presence was a comforting anchor amidst the stillness, but it also reminded Amara of the path she was supposed to follow.
“Let’s have a dinner date tonight, you and me,” Alessandro proposed that evening, after they were done with all the remaining work.
Amara hesitated. “I can’t leave Vaughn,” she replied, her mind immediately going to her son.
For a brief moment, something flickered in Alessandro’s eyes-was it irritation? Frustration?… but it was gone before Amara could be sure. He nodded, his smile returning, though it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “He can join us too,” Alessandro offered, his tone smooth, as if he hadn’t been momentarily thrown off by her refusal.
Amara looked at him, seeing the expectation in his eyes, the way he was trying to make this work. She knew he was trying to please her, trying to create a moment for them to share. She sighed inwardly, feeling a mixture of gratitude and something else, something more reluctant. “Fine,” she finally agreed, giving him a small smile.
That night, as the three of them prepared for dinner, Amara dressed in a simple black shirt and black jeans, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail. She chose the outfit with ease, not wanting anything too fancy for what she assumed would be a quiet evening. Vaughn, always eager to match his mommy, wore a similar outfit… a black shirt and black jeans that made him look like a miniature version of her.
Alessandro, on the other hand, dressed in a crisp white shirt and blue jeans, his hair left slightly messy in that effortlessly stylish way he always managed to pull off. As they headed out, Amara noticed how well he looked.
When they arrived at the restaurant, Amara was taken aback. The place was lit with the soft glow of countless candles, their flames dancing in the dim light. Flowers of various colors were scattered around the room, adding bursts of color and life to the otherwise dark setting. The atmosphere was warm, romantic, almost like something out of a movie.
Alessandro had clearly gone to great lengths to make this night special, and Amara could appreciate the effort. Yet, as she looked around, taking in the meticulously arranged setting, she couldn’t help but feel a pang of something-was it nostalgia? Regret? She couldn’t quite place it, but the elaborate setting, while beautiful, felt almost too much, too orchestrated. It reminded her of a different night, a different dinner, one that had felt more genuine, more heartfelt.
Automatically, her mind overtook the memory of her having dinner with Rowan some time ago.
Rowan had arranged a dinner for her, filling the floor with red rose petals. The memory was vivid, the colors, the scents, and most importantly, the feeling of being cherished.
Now, sitting across from Alessandro, Amara sighed inwardly. Why couldn’t this be simpler? Why couldn’t these men just have a normal dinner, something relaxed and easy, without all the grandeur and the pressure? The elaborate setting felt more like a performance than a genuine moment, and she couldn’t shake the feeling that Alessandro was trying too hard to impress her.
Vaughn, seated next to Amara, glanced around the restaurant with wide eyes, taking in the scene. He was young, but he was perceptive, and he could sense that something was off. The candles and flowers were nice, but they didn’t quite feel right. He looked at Alessandro, then at his mother, his small brow furrowed in thought. Vaughn secretly wished it was Rowan uncle who had arranged this dinner for them, not Alessandro. He had liked the uncle he met in the garden, the one who had made him feel safe and special, the one who had treated his mother with tender affection.
Alessandro turned to them with a smile, though his eyes betrayed a different story, one of expectation and a desire for approval. “I hope you like it,” he said, his voice smooth and polished.
Amara forced a polite smile, though her heart wasn’t in it. “It’s beautiful,” she replied, her words measured, careful not to show her true feelings.
Alessandro’s gaze shifted to Vaughn, his expression hopeful as he waited for the boy’s reaction. Vaughn looked at Alessandro, then at his mother, as if trying to gauge what he should say. Finally, he nodded and said, “It’s good,” his voice soft, lacking enthusiasm.
Alessandro’s smile faltered for just a moment before he recovered. “Thanks,” he replied, though the lackluster response from Vaughn clearly wasn’t what he had hoped for.
Vaughn sighed inwardly, feeling the weight of the situation. He didn’t dislike Alessandro, but he didn’t like him with his mother either. There was something about the way Alessandro looked at Amara that made Vaughn uncomfortable, like he was trying to claim something that didn’t belong to him. Vaughn thought back to the uncle he had met in the garden, the one who had promised to marry his mother. He liked that uncle better. He could imagine them as a family, the three of them together, happy and laughing.