I stayed.

Not because Dominic asked.

Because Leo did.

He found Lily sitting on her suitcase near the back door.

“Are you leaving forever?”

Lily shrugged.

“Mommy says maybe.”

Leo turned toward me.

“Please.”

One word.

That was all.

So I gave Dominic conditions.

He listened from behind his desk.

“Lily is not a distraction,” I said.

“I know.”

“She isn’t here to fix Leo.”

“I know.”

“And Leo needs children his own age.”

Dominic frowned.

“He has classmates.”

“Does he see them outside school?”

Silence.

“Exactly.”

“What are you suggesting?”

“A normal life.”

His eyebrow lifted.

“Define normal.”

“Birthday parties.”

He looked uncomfortable.

“Playgrounds.”

Worse.

“Sleepovers eventually.”

“No.”

I almost laughed.

“We’ll revisit that.”

“No, we won’t.”

“You see the problem?”

Dominic leaned back.

“Anything else?”

“Yes. Dinner.”

“What about it?”

“You eat with your son.”

“How often?”

“Most nights.”

“That’s impossible.”

“Then make your life less impossible.”

He stared at me.

I waited.

Finally, he nodded.

“Fine.”

“And Sunday.”

“What happens Sunday?”

“You don’t work.”

Dominic actually laughed.

“That is definitely impossible.”

“Then give Leo half the day.”

His amusement faded.

“Done.”

Changes came slowly.

Dominic started eating breakfast downstairs.

At first, conversations were painful.

Leo barely spoke.

Then Lily began attending breakfast too.

That solved everything.

“Dominic?”

He looked up from his coffee.

Nobody called him Dominic at breakfast.

Except Lily.

“What?”

“Why do you wear black every day?”

“I like black.”

“That’s boring.”

Leo snorted milk through his nose.

Dominic stared at him.

Then handed him a napkin.

“Your friend is rude.”

“She’s three.”

“That’s not a defense.”

“It kind of is.”

A month passed.

Then another.

Evelyn began visiting.

Leo started bringing classmates home.

Dominic reduced evening meetings.

And the enormous Moretti house became louder.

Messier.

Alive.

But something else changed too.

Something between Dominic and me.

He began finding reasons to enter the kitchen when I was there.

I began noticing when he came home late.

One evening, I found him washing a coffee cup.

I stared.

“What?”

“You have employees.”

“I know.”

“You’ve never washed anything in your life.”

“That’s insulting.”

“Is it inaccurate?”

He considered.

“No.”

I smiled.

He put the cup down.

“Isabella.”

Something in his voice made my smile disappear.

“What?”

“I need to ask you something.”

“If it’s about pancakes, Lily already won.”

“It isn’t.”

He stepped closer.

“Are you staying because you want to?”

I understood immediately.

Not because of the job.

Not because of Leo.

Because of him.

“I don’t know yet.”

He nodded.

No pressure.

No command.

Just acceptance.

That was when I realized how much he had changed.

Then screaming came from upstairs.

“DAD!”

Dominic ran.

So did I.

We reached Leo’s room.

Lily stood on the bed.

Leo pointed toward the floor.

Dominic stopped.

“What happened?”

“A spider!”

I stared.

Dominic Moretti—the man half of Boston supposedly feared—looked down at an insect smaller than a coin.

Lily shouted:

“GET IT!”

Dominic looked at me.

I started laughing.

“You heard her.”

He sighed.

Five minutes later, the spider was safely outside.

Leo was laughing.

Lily was celebrating.

And Dominic stood in the hallway beside me.

“This house used to be quiet,” he said.

“Do you miss it?”

He looked into the bedroom.

At his son.

At my daughter.

Then at me.

“No.”

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