Page 180 of Modern Romance September 2025 1-4
In some ways, it felt like reliving those first few weeks after the crash. The guilt, the pain, the knowledge that nothing would ever be the same. That Diego would never be free of those things, and somehow she was caught up in that because she couldn’t get through to him.
She’d told him about her own guilt, thinking it would matter. And it hadn’t.
She hated thinking about all the things that felt changeable about that day. She didn’t know how Diego had sunk into such awful feelings. They did nothing but weigh her down, make everything seem hopeless and impossible.
How was this any way to live?
But she supposed that was why she understood him, grieved for him, couldn’t bring herself to hate him. She’d felt those things herself. It had taken experience and the way her father had guided her through her mother’s death to handle them in a way that was healthy.
Diego had none of that. Only the guilt, and for whatever many reasons, he’d gone through life only trusting the bad feelings. Perhaps those had been the only ones that had ever earned him attention from his parents, and so he’d doubled down.
But it only made all the rifts worse.
“And you cannot fix that, Amelia. You were utterly foolish to think you might have.” With those firm words spoken aloud to herself, she got out of bed, got dressed and went to deal with herjob.
It was well before dawn, but she would have to deal with making sure the guests got off safely and soundly, so she wanted to be up and moving.
But the moment she stepped out of her room, she found Mondo and Mrs. Moretti. They were whispering urgently to each other at the end of the hall but stopped when she stepped into the hallway.
They didn’t say anything at first, just stared at her with wide eyes.
“Is something amiss?” she asked carefully, fear prickling her skin into goose bumps.
Mrs. Moretti pushed Mondo forward. He looked over his shoulder at her, reminding Amelia of a child pleading to not have to confess to something. Mrs. Moretti was obviously having none of it.
Mondo looked at Amelia sheepishly, apologetically. “Ms. Baresi…” He nervously clutched his hands together, but after a moment or two of her waiting, he straightened his shoulders and dropped his hands. It was like watching a boy mature right in front of her.
“Ms. Baresi, your car is missing.”
For a moment, Amelia could think of nothing to say. Her car… Why would anyone take her car?
But then it dawned on her. Diego hadn’t just left her presence last night. He’d left the castello.
And stolen her damn car. Thegall.
“We checked the security footage and—”
“Mr. Folliero took it,” Amelia said flatly. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to put that together.
“Yes, ma’am,” he said apologetically, like any of this was his fault. “We didn’t know if… We weren’t sure how to…proceed.”
Amelia looked from Mondo to Mrs. Moretti. How to proceed. She wanted to laugh. She wanted to go back to bed and justcry.
But that solved nothing, and she was in charge here. Because the man in question refused to be.
“For right now, we’ll leave it be,” she said, trying to sound unbothered. “It’s more important we get the guests where they need to be. Use whatever cars you have access to. You have my permission.”
“Yes, ma’am.” But he didn’t leave to do her bidding. He hesitated, stepping a little closer, lowering his voice as if it might stop Mrs. Moretti from hearing. “I can go get him. It wouldn’t take me any time at all.”
That sat there between them, like they both knew where Diego had gone. Because where else would he go besides that damn cabin?
“No need, Mondo.” Tears filled her eyes, but she blinked them back, coughed the roughness out of her voice and plastered an insincere smile on her face. “We’ll handle getting the car back after Christmas.” She put extra emphasis on the wordcar. So there was no confusion here.
They would not be going to fetch Diego. He was making his own decision, and she would not change it even if she could.
He had to choose life. She couldn’t choose it for him. But shecouldchoose it for herself, and that meant not going after him.
“Yes, ma’am.” This time he did leave, Mrs. Moretti following without offering any words. But she gave Amelia a little nod thatalmostfelt like approval.
