Chapter 11 - The First Sunday Dinner With Isabella|
The first Sunday after the final court proceedings felt like a celebration.
Not the kind Vanessa used to organize.
There were no strangers in expensive gowns.
No photographers.
No business associates pretending to care about the family.
Just a small dinner in the mansion's warm dining room.
Teresa sat beside Luca.
Sofia sat across from them.
And Isabella rested safely in a portable bassinet near her mother's chair.
The baby had been formally reunited with Sofia months earlier, after medical evaluation and the necessary legal review.
Since then, Sofia had been learning how to become a mother in the ordinary, beautiful ways she'd once believed were lost to her.
She learned Isabella's favorite lullabies.
Her feeding schedule.
The funny little expressions she made when she was sleepy.
And the way her tiny fingers curled around Sofia's thumb.
Teresa adored every detail.
“She's smiling,” she whispered during dinner.
Sofia laughed softly.
“Mom, she's probably just making a face.”
Teresa shook her head.
“No. She's smiling at her grandmother.”
Luca raised an eyebrow.
“Of course she is.”
Everyone laughed.
I stood near the sideboard, watching them.
For eleven months, I'd worked in that house.
I'd seen its luxury.
Its chandeliers.
Its expensive furniture.
Its powerful guests.
But I'd never seen it feel so much like a home.
Luca looked toward me.
“Hannah?”
“Yes, sir?”
“Would you sit with us?”
I hesitated.
“Sir, I still have dinner service.”
“Mrs. Alvarez can finish.”
Teresa smiled.
“Sit, sweetheart.”
I looked toward the kitchen.
Then back at the family.
Luca pulled out a chair.
“Please.”
I sat.
For the first time, I ate Sunday dinner with the Morettis instead of serving it.
Teresa reached for my hand.
“Thank you.”
I smiled.
“For what?”
“For refusing to leave me alone that night.”
My throat tightened.
“Mrs. Moretti…”
She shook her head.
“You saved more than my phone.”
Tears filled my eyes.
Sofia looked toward me.
“You gave me back my family.”
I stared down at my plate.
“I only helped you speak to each other.”
Luca smiled faintly.
“Sometimes that's exactly what people need.”
After dinner, Sofia asked whether I'd hold Isabella while she made tea.
I looked at her.
“Are you sure?”
She smiled.
“Of course.”
I carefully took the baby.
She was warm and peaceful, wrapped in a pale yellow blanket.
Her tiny hand rested against my sleeve.
I felt my chest tighten.
Not because of fear.
Because of the strange wonder of holding someone who had become the center of so much pain and hope.
Luca stood beside me.
He looked down at his niece.
“She has Sofia's eyes.”
I smiled.
“She does.”
He looked toward his sister.
“She used to make that same expression when she was a baby.”
I laughed softly.
“Really?”
He nodded.
“Usually right before she started crying.”
As though she'd heard him, Isabella stirred.
I smiled.
“Then perhaps we shouldn't tease her.”
Luca laughed.
For a brief moment, his expression was completely unguarded.
Then he looked at me.
“Hannah, how is your mother?”
I blinked.
“My mother?”
He nodded.
“You mentioned she was recovering from surgery.”
I smiled sadly.
“She still needs help walking, but she's improving.”
“Is she receiving physical therapy?”
“Yes.”
“Good.”
He paused.
“Would she enjoy coming to Sunday dinner sometime?”
I stared.
“Sir?”
“Mom has been asking about her.”
Teresa nodded from across the room.
“I want to meet the woman who raised someone so kind.”
My eyes filled.
I could barely answer.
“That would mean a lot.”
Luca smiled.
“Then it's settled.”
But the evening held one more surprise.
After Sofia took Isabella upstairs, Teresa asked Luca to sit beside her.
She held a small envelope.
“Sweetheart, there's something I want you to see.”
Luca frowned.
“What is it?”
She handed him the envelope.
Inside was a letter from Sofia.
Written months earlier.
Before Isabella was found.
Luca opened it.
His expression softened as he read.
Then tears filled his eyes.
“Mom…”
Teresa smiled sadly.
“She wrote that if she ever came home, she wanted us to promise something.”
Luca looked up.
“What?”
Teresa's voice trembled.
“That we would never let anyone decide for us who deserves to belong in this family.”
Luca slowly folded the letter.
Then looked toward me.
And something in his expression changed.
Not suddenly.
Not dramatically.
But enough to make my heart beat faster.
May you like
He smiled.
And for the first time, I wondered whether the man I'd spent eleven months calling Mr. Moretti might someday look at me as something more than a housemaid.
