Chapter 3 - Two Children, One House
Victoria did not open the apartment door all the way.
Raffaele had bought the Manhattan apartment before they became engaged because Victoria disliked commuting to Long Island when Sophie had appointments in the city. He had never called it hers. He had never called it his either.
Now the distinction sat between them.
It was nine-thirty the next morning.
Raffaele held Sophie’s pink backpack in one hand.
Victoria wore jeans, a white sweater, and no makeup. Her hair was pulled into a knot. Without the garden-party dress and diamond earrings, she looked younger and more tired.
“You could have sent a driver,” she said.
“I could have.”
She looked at the backpack.
“Sophie cried for that rabbit half the night.”
Raffaele handed it over.
Victoria took it but did not thank him.
From inside the apartment came the sound of a cartoon.
“Sophie awake?” he asked.
Victoria’s expression sharpened. “You don’t get to show up and confuse her.”
“I came to return her bag.”
“You came because you want answers.”
“Yes.”
She laughed once without humor. “At least you’re honest this morning.”
Raffaele waited.
Victoria glanced over her shoulder, then stepped into the hallway and pulled the door nearly closed behind her.
“What do you want to know?”
“Why my son has been clearing plates to earn a seat at his own table.”
Her eyes changed.
Not surprise.
Calculation.
Raffaele hated that he recognized it now.
“I was teaching both children responsibility.”
“No. You were teaching them different things.”
“You were never there.”
“I’m aware.”
The answer disarmed her for half a second.
Raffaele continued. “You told Sophie she belonged with family. You told Noah to help staff. Explain the difference.”
Victoria’s shoulders stiffened.
“The difference is that Sophie has spent a year living in a house where every wall tells her she is temporary.”
Raffaele frowned.
“What?”
“Lucia’s portrait is in the main hall. Noah’s baby pictures are in the library. Your mother’s silver is used on Sundays. Every person who works there knew Lucia. Every person calls Noah Mr. Noah like he was born with a title.”
“He is three.”
“Exactly. And already the whole world bends around him.”
Raffaele stared at her.
Victoria folded her arms.
“Sophie asks me why Noah has a family crest over his nursery door and she has flowers. She asks why people bring him gifts when they come to see you. She asks why Luca calls him little boss and everybody laughs.”
Raffaele’s mouth tightened.
He had heard Luca say it.
He had laughed too.
“So you punish Noah for adults making Sophie feel excluded?”
“I did not punish him.”
“You put plates in his hands.”
“He likes helping.”
“He cried.”
“Because you made a scene.”
Raffaele felt anger rise and forced it back down.
This was the moment Margaret had described. A problem entered his hands, and everyone waited to see who would pay.
He kept his voice level.
“What was supposed to happen after the wedding?”
Victoria’s lips parted, then closed.
“Answer me.”
“You ended the wedding.”
“That doesn’t erase the plan.”
“It was our household plan.”
“Then tell me what it was.”
The apartment door opened behind her.
Sophie appeared holding the stuffed rabbit.
“Raff?”
Raffaele’s chest tightened.
She had called him Raff since she was three.
Victoria turned quickly. “Sweetheart, go watch your show.”
Sophie looked at him.
“Is Noah mad at me?”
“No,” Raffaele said.
Victoria’s head turned sharply.
Sophie hugged the rabbit.
“I didn’t want his chair.”
“I know.”
“Mommy said I need to learn to take my place.”
Victoria closed her eyes.
Raffaele said nothing.
Sophie continued because children often stepped into silences adults were desperate to protect.
“She said after the wedding I get the room by yours.”
Raffaele looked at Victoria.
“What room?”
Victoria opened the door wider. “Sophie, inside.”
“The yellow one,” Sophie said. “And Noah goes upstairs because boys like upstairs.”
Raffaele’s house had three floors.
The second floor held the family bedrooms.
The third floor held guest rooms, storage, two staff bedrooms, and an old schoolroom.
Noah’s nursery was across the hall from Raffaele’s bedroom.
His voice became very quiet.
“You planned to move him.”
Victoria’s face hardened again. “We discussed reorganizing.”
“No. We discussed converting the yellow room into a shared playroom.”
“And then I realized that made no sense.”
“So your solution was moving my son away from me.”
“He sleeps through the night.”
“He is three.”
“Sophie is four.”
“And?”
“And she wakes with nightmares.”
The words came out sharper than the rest.
Raffaele stopped.
Sophie looked down at her rabbit.
Victoria’s anger slipped for a moment, exposing something underneath it.
Fear.
“She wakes up asking if I’m going to leave,” Victoria said. “She has done that since her father moved to California and stopped showing up when he promised. She was finally starting to believe we were building something permanent.”
Raffaele looked at the child.
He knew Sophie’s father was unreliable. He knew missed weekends upset her. He had not known about the nightmares.
Victoria saw his hesitation.
“You think I wanted to hurt Noah.”
“You did hurt him.”
“That is not the same thing.”
“No. It isn’t.”
She blinked.
Raffaele crouched so he was level with Sophie.
“Can I tell Noah you’re not mad at him?” she asked.
“Yes.”
“Can I see him?”
Raffaele looked at Victoria.
Victoria answered before he could. “Not today.”
Sophie’s face folded.
Raffaele stood.
“Don’t use her to punish me.”
Victoria’s eyes flashed. “You do not get to lecture me about using children after taking my engagement ring off in front of two hundred people while my daughter watched.”
The hallway seemed suddenly too small.
She was right about one part.
He had ended the engagement publicly because the harm was public. He had not thought about what Sophie would understand from the scene.
He had seen Noah in danger and acted.
He had not seen the second child standing three feet away.
“I should have gotten both children inside before I did it,” he said.
Victoria stared at him.
The admission did not fix anything. It simply removed one weapon from the argument.
Raffaele stepped back.
“I’m going to ask you again later what you planned for the house.”
“I don’t owe you a report.”
“No.” He looked at Sophie. “But if those plans affected Noah, I’m going to learn them whether you help me or not.”
He turned toward the elevator.
Sophie called after him.
“Raff?”
He looked back.
“Tell Noah I saved him a cookie.”
Victoria’s face tightened.
Raffaele nodded.
“I will.”
The elevator doors closed.
Only then did he realize the worst part of the conversation.
May you like
Victoria had not denied planning to move Noah upstairs.
She had defended it.
