The Don and His Mafia Princess: Book Two of The Costanzo Series - Standalone

CHAPTER 43

I glance at my wristwatch, noting that Santiago is running a few minutes behind for our lunch date. As I wait, my mind drifts back to the whirlwind of the past month. The past four weeks feel like both an eternity and a blink of an eye since I woke up from the coma that nearly claimed my life. Physically, I've made a full recovery, and I've even returned to work. But emotionally, I'm still a tapestry of raw nerves and unhealed wounds.

The moment the doctor cleared me to fly, I fled the city. I couldn't bear to stay in the place where my heart had been shattered into a million pieces. But even back home, I can't escape the ache of missing him. Night after night, tears became my lullaby as I prayed desperately that he would come back to me, that the devastating breakup in the hospital had just been a terrible nightmare. Every morning, I wake up and reach for my phone, clinging to an irrational sliver of hope to see a text or missed call from him. And every morning, the cold reality hits me anew: it wasn't a dream. He's really gone.

Work has become my refuge, a labyrinth of tasks where I can lose myself and forget the pain, even if just for a little while. I throw myself into my job with a fervor bordering on obsession, desperate for anything to keep my mind from wandering to thoughts of Stefano. It helps, but the reprieve is always temporary. Memories are persistent ghosts, haunting me when I least expect it, and the cycle of grief begins anew.

In the midst of this emotional turbulence, there's been an unexpected shift in my relationship with my father. Dad didn't make a fuss when I returned to work. He even visited the hospital in California the next day. I suppose witnessing my brush with death made him finally realize the true meaning of losing me or not. I can never really know with my father.

I'm jolted out of my melancholy reverie by the sight of Santiago walking towards me, his familiar gait and warm smile a welcome distraction from the tempest raging in my heart. I take a deep breath, plastering on a smile of my own. For the next hour or so, I'll try to push aside thoughts of Stefano and focus on the present moment, on the brother who has always been my rock. It's not easy, but I know I have to keep moving forward, one small step at a time. Even if my heart feels like it will never be whole again.

"Hello, Sis, sorry I'm late," he says, sliding into the seat across from me.

I force a smile. "It's fine; you're always late."

"I know, but I need to change that. How are you doing?" His eyes hold the same mixture of worry and pity I've seen in everyone's gaze since Stefano left me.

Mom is the worst, treating me like I'm made of glass. I know they mean well, but their concern only serves as a constant reminder of my pain. "I'm fine, don't mind what Mom says. I'm doing okay. I haven't cried myself to sleep in two weeks, so that's progress, right?" I try to inject some levity into my voice.

Santiago nods, but the concern doesn't leave his face. "I'm glad to hear that."

Eager to change the subject, I wave over a waiter to take our orders. Once we've placed them, I turn back to Santiago. "So, how are you doing? How are things with Emily?"

He hesitates, fiddling with his menu. "I'm doing well, but things with Emily are a bit weird."

"What do you mean?" I ask, my brow furrowing.

"I didn't tell you this because of what you were going through, but Emily forgave me."

My eyes widen in surprise. "Really? That's amazing!"

But Santiago doesn't share my enthusiasm. "Not really."

"What do you mean?" Confusion colors my tone.

As I process Santiago's words, a memory suddenly surfaces. Suddenly, it hits me – Emily's plan. I can't believe I'd forgotten about it; I was actually happy they were finally together. Santiago must have picked up on something being off. I need to tread carefully here.