Chapter 12 - The Last Suitcase
Vanessa arrived at eleven the next morning with her father and two movers.
I knew because I saw the black SUV from the pantry window.
Mrs. Carter looked at me.
“You can work downstairs.”
“I am downstairs.”
“You know what I mean.”
I did.
Vanessa had asked whether I would be there.
Luca had told me that without telling me what to do about it.
Progress, apparently, came in strange forms.
“I’m staying in the kitchen,” I said.
Mrs. Carter nodded.
“If she comes in?”
“I’ll decide then.”
Upstairs, footsteps crossed the hall for almost an hour.
Closet doors opened.
Drawers closed.
Boxes moved across hardwood.
The ordinary sounds of a relationship ending.
Nobody shouted.
That made it worse somehow.
At noon, Richard Bellini came into the kitchen alone.
He removed his gloves.
“You’re Olivia.”
I dried my hands on a towel.
“Yes.”
“I’m Richard.”
“I know.”
He looked uncomfortable.
Rich people looked especially strange when they were uncomfortable because the clothes stayed perfect.
“I wanted to say I’m sorry for what happened.”
“You didn’t do it.”
“No.”
“But I raised the person who did.”
I looked at him.
“That still isn’t the same.”
He nodded slowly.
“My daughter has a habit of trying to control the thing she is afraid will leave her.”
“That sounds hard.”
“For everyone.”
He glanced toward the ceiling as footsteps passed overhead.
“She asked to speak with you once before she goes.”
“I know.”
“You don’t have to.”
“I know that too.”
He smiled faintly.
“I’m beginning to understand why Luca likes having you around.”
I stiffened.
Richard immediately lifted both hands.
“Not like that.”
“Good.”
“I meant you answer direct questions directly.”
“Oh.”
“That is rarer than it should be.”
He left.
Ten minutes later, Vanessa entered.
No red silk.
No diamonds.
Jeans, black sweater, hair tied back.
She looked younger.
She stopped on the other side of the island.
“Can I have five minutes?”
“You already have them.”
Her mouth almost curved.
Then it didn’t.
She placed something on the counter.
The white envelope.
Still sealed with the money inside.
“Luca returned it.”
“I asked him to.”
“I know.”
She touched the edge of the envelope.
“I was angry when you refused.”
“I noticed.”
“I thought you were trying to make me feel guilty.”
“I was trying not to take your money.”
“Yes.”
She looked toward the pantry door.
“Mercer gave a statement.”
“So I heard.”
“I gave one too.”
I looked at her.
“To who?”
“My attorney. In case you decide to report what happened.”
“That sounds very you.”
“It probably is.”
She took a breath.
“I told the truth.”
“That also sounds like legal advice.”
“It was.”
At least she did not pretend otherwise.
I leaned against the counter.
“What do you actually want from me?”
Vanessa looked at me for a long time.
“Nothing.”
I did not believe her immediately.
She saw that.
“I wanted to apologize without asking you to make me feel better.”
“That’s difficult.”
“Yes.”
She looked down at her hands.
“I grabbed you. You tried to get away. You fell because I grabbed you. Then I threatened your job because I was scared you would tell Luca what I had done.”
I waited.
“I’m sorry.”
No explanation followed.
No mother.
No ring.
No wedding.
Just the sentence.
It landed differently.
“Thank you,” I said.
She nodded.
“That doesn’t mean—”
“I know.”
That surprised me.
Vanessa picked up the envelope.
“I’m donating this.”
“To what?”
“I don’t know yet.”
“Maybe something that helps people leave jobs they can’t afford to lose.”
Her eyes met mine.
“That is pointed.”
“It is.”
“I’ll consider it.”
She turned to leave.
Then stopped.
“Did he show you the emerald?”
“No.”
She looked surprised.
“I know he has it. That’s enough.”
Vanessa laughed quietly.
“I spent seven months trying to get that ring into this house.”
“And now?”
“Now I don’t want to see it.”
Her face tightened.
“I built it into proof of whether I mattered. That was unfair to everyone.”
I said nothing.
She continued. “It was also easier than admitting I didn’t know whether Luca and I knew how to be married.”
That sounded true.
“Why?” I asked.
“Because every time something uncomfortable came up, he went quiet and I got louder. Eventually I started doing things before he could refuse them.”
“That sounds healthy.”
She gave me a dry look.
“I’m aware.”
“What will you do now?”
“Go to my father’s house for a while.”
“Will that help?”
“Probably not.”
I smiled.
She did too.
Then the smile disappeared.
“My father wants me to see someone.”
“A therapist?”
“Yes.”
“And?”
“I hate that he’s right.”
“That seems normal.”
She nodded.
At the doorway, she looked back.
“For what it’s worth, you were never temporary because of anything you did.”
“That is not worth as much as you think.”
“I know.”
She left.
I stood alone for a minute with my hand on the counter.
I had spent two days wondering whether I should make an official report about the fall. Dr. Harris had documented the injury. Mercer had given a statement. The hallway camera existed. I had enough information to decide later without pretending nothing happened.
That mattered to me more than choosing immediately.
I took a picture of the fading bruise for my own records and emailed it to myself with the date. Then I put my phone away and went back to cutting lemons.
Not every decision had to be made while somebody else was waiting for my answer.
A few minutes later, the movers carried the final suitcase through the foyer.
Luca stood beside the front doors.
Vanessa approached him.
I was far enough away that I could not hear the first part.
Then she said, louder, “Do you still love me?”
The movers stopped pretending not to listen.
Luca answered quietly.
“Yes.”
Vanessa’s face broke.
He continued, “That doesn’t mean we should get married.”
She nodded once.
Then she walked out beside her father.
Luca did not follow.
He stood in the open doorway until the SUV disappeared through the gates.
May you like
Then he closed the door himself.
