Page 167 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4
“I actually do, in spite of evidence to the contrary,” she said softly. “I know…you, even if you find that unfathomable. I have worked for you for two years, I knew your family and how you grew up, and I knew the one man who tried to be someone to you.”
There were too many things going on inside him. All those things he’d learned to control with space and icy indifference were trying to find purchase. Or worse, they were trying to eradicate whatever purchase he’d managed all these years.
She stepped forward then, reached out and fitted her hand to his cheek.
“I think you have all the potential to be better than you have been. See, the point is not that I think the worst of you, Diego. You think the worst of yourself. My point is that I don’t think you realize that is a choice. You could choose something different, and it’s hard because you’ve never had to. But it doesn’t mean it’s impossible. Especially if you let someone reach out and help.”
What was he doing, standing half naked in this woman’s bedroom having a philosophical conversation aboutchoice?
After he’d taken her virginity, or whatever the hell verb she’d rather use.
He stepped away from her hand. “I should go back to my cabin,” he ground out, because this was becoming something intolerable. He’d crossed all the lines he’d once crossed without caring. He’d taken what he’d wanted rather than maintained his penance. It was wrong and he should go.
“What youshoulddo is get dressed and come with me to look at some nativities. What youshoulddo is decide why you think wasting your life away isolated from all signs of humanity and warmth is better penance than actuallylivingfor the people who cannot.”
He didn’t know what to say to theseshoulds. Why should she be the one to know what heshould? Why did she get to decide anything about whatheshould?
“I’ll be in the car at noon,” she told him. “You can meet me there or not. It is up to you, Diego. Your life, and only your life, is your choice. Your responsibility. Your consequences. Including the guilt you find so damn comfortable.”
She did not storm away, as they had a habit of doing from each other. No, she walked over to her bathroom door, humming something that sounded suspiciously like “Joy to the World.”
He watched her go, speechless and frozen in place.
What the hell had just happened?
A mistake. What could only be categorized as a mistake.
And you get to choose how to deal with it, Diego. Your responsibility. Your consequences.
He stalked away from her voice in his head, her room, her scent, and still didn’t know what the hell to do with any of it.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Ameliadidn’texpecthim to show up, not after the way they’d left things, but she’d hoped he might.
He did not. She waited, far too long, and Diego did not appear.
The only upside was that he had not left the castello yet. As he hadn’t come with more than his little bag, she knew it wouldn’t take him long to pack. So…maybe he wouldn’t come see the nativities, but maybe he would stay.
And she would keep trying to get through to him. She wouldn’t give up on him, no. If anything, this morning had made clear to her it was that…there was a way to get through to him. There were soft spots beneath all that barbed wire.
But she wasn’t going to destroy herself to get to them. She would give him the opportunity to take it off.
Maybe Christmases past had been the wrong tactic. Maybe she needed to focus onfutureChristmases. Not for him. But for herself. Maybe… Maybe she had to do a little inner healing along the way to really help him.
She smiled at the thought as she got behind the wheel. It eased some of her frustration and disappointment that he hadn’t come down.
Whether he joined her or not, she was going to go look at some nativities and enjoy herself. Because this wasn’t just abouthim—his Christmas pasts, his guilt, his grief. It was about her, too, and she was ready to turn the page from past to future.
So she drove to Dolcina. She walked the streets, taking in the nativities. She took pictures of the ones she liked the best, shopped, and even took a break at a little café forzeppoleand a coffee. She sat there and felt…renewed.
Sex with Diego had been oddly transformative. Not just because he had done things to her body she had never dreamed of doing with another person, never knowntodream of. No, it was bigger than that.
She had fully engaged in something not for anything other than pleasure. She had thrown herself into something…dangerouswasn’t the right word. The unknown, perhaps. She had taken a chance instead of hiding away. She had done something forherself, without being concerned about serving someone else.
And it had been glorious. It emboldened her to start thinking beyond just sex. Just Diego.
What didshewant?
