Shadow Of The Past | ✔️

17 | Navigating Redemption

ACE

I walk out of the basement, heading into the nearby bathroom to ensure there's no trace of blood on me before I run into naomi and Amara. Checking my reflection in the mirror, I find a few spots on my hands, nothing out of the ordinary. I quickly wash them off and make my way to the kitchen.

Naomi's presence in my house feels surreal, like a dream I never thought would come true. It's only been two days, but each moment with her feels both precious and precarious.

Entering my office, I find solace among familiar surroundings. I remove my blazer and drape it over the back of my chair, a routine gesture that offers a brief moment of normalcy amidst the chaos of emotions swirling inside me.

As I settle into my chair, stacks of paperwork await my attention. Signing documents is mechanical, a distraction from the weight of recent events. But even in this mundane task, my mind keeps drifting back to Naomi and Amara.

A knock on the door interrupts my thoughts. "Come in," I call out, my voice betraying none of the turmoil within.

Rose enters quietly, holding a steaming cup of coffee—a gesture that brings a fleeting sense of comfort. "Here's your coffee," she says with a gentle smile, placing it carefully on the edge of my desk.

"Thanks, Rose." I manage a nod of gratitude, but my mind is elsewhere. I can't shake the anticipation of seeing Naomi again, of trying to mend what I've broken.

"Could you do me one more favor?" I ask suddenly, catching Rose off guard.

"Of course," she replies, her eyes showing concern and readiness to assist.

I hand her a small package, containing something meant for Naomi. "Could you give this to her, please? If she's awake, or just leave it somewhere she'll see it," I request, hoping it might convey some unspoken message.

"Okay," Rose nods understandingly, taking the package and turning to leave.

Before she reaches the door, my phone buzzes insistently. I glance at the screen—it's my mother calling.

"Ciao mamma," I greet her, trying to keep my voice steady despite the whirlwind of emotions inside me.

"Ace Antonio Russo, why didn't you tell us, or me, that she was at your house?!" My mother's voice rings with equal parts excitement and reproach.

"Mama, can you talk a little softer?" I plead, glancing instinctively towards the closed door.

"I. Dont. Give. A. Fuck," she replies bluntly. "I still want to see her again and my little granddaughter. She is so cute and looks so much like you."

"You too together?" she asks eagerly, unable to contain her curiosity.

"No," I sigh, running a hand through my hair. "Not yet."

"Why?" Her question is simple, but it cuts straight to the heart of the matter.

"I always walked away from her," I confess quietly, the weight of my mistakes heavy in my words. "I want to talk to her so badly, but she's still mad because of what I did."