Chapter 13 - THE LIGHT IN THE OLD NURSERY
Years later, Roman woke at 2:17 in the morning.
The penthouse was quiet.
Celeste slept beside him.
No phone vibrated with secret messages.
No unsigned amendment waited in an electronic queue.
No relative decided what loyalty required.
Roman left the bedroom and walked toward the old nursery.
After Lucia moved to Seattle, the room became a shared study. The dark-blue wall remained. So did several silver stars.
The white crib was gone.
The children’s books had been donated.
The rocking chair remained beside the window.
Roman sat.
Chicago stretched below him, quieter than he remembered from the night Celeste left.
He heard footsteps.
Celeste appeared in the doorway wearing a robe.
“You realize what time it is?”
Roman smiled.
“Yes.”
“Can’t sleep?”
“No.”
She entered and sat awkwardly beside him in the chair.
There was not enough room.
Roman shifted.
Celeste rested her head against his shoulder.
“I was thinking about that night,” he said.
“I know.”
“I thought you leaving was the worst thing that could happen.”
“It felt like it.”
May you like
“It wasn’t.”
# THE MAFIA BOSS BETRAYED HIS SEVEN MONTHS PREGNANT WIFE, BUT THE BABY ROOM SHE HID IN HIS PENTHOUSE EXPOSED WHO WAS REALLY DESTROYING HIM
