Chapter 10 - Come Get Me, and He Always Did
Five years passed.
Nebula and Matteo still traveled often between Boston and Lake Como.
Their companies were legitimate now.
The Moretti organization no longer operated as an underground empire.
Matteo became known publicly as a businessman.
Some people still whispered.
But he didn't care.
He had a family.
That was enough.
Their daughter, Mia, was four.
She had Nebula's eyes and Matteo's stubbornness.
She adored her father.
She adored cake.
She believed all large men were excellent climbing structures.
Matteo pretended to hate it.
He loved every second.
One rainy evening, Nebula found an old box in the attic.
Inside was her bridesmaid dress.
The same torn dress.
She touched the fabric.
Memories came flooding back.
The country club.
Richard.
The rain.
The phone.
Come get me.
Matteo entered.
“What did you find?”
She showed him.
He went quiet.
“I remember.”
“So do I.”
He sat beside her.
“Do you regret calling me?”
“No.”
“Do you regret leaving?”
She thought.
“Yes.”
Then she shook her head.
“No.”
He frowned.
“Which one?”
“I regret the pain.”
She took his hand.
“But I don't regret the woman I became.”
He kissed her fingers.
“You were always strong.”
“I didn't know.”
“I did.”
She smiled.
“Did you really?”
“From the moment you walked into my life.”
Their daughter appeared in the doorway.
“Mommy?”
“Yes?”
“Daddy said cake.”
Matteo looked offended.
“I said maybe.”
Mia ran to him.
“Cake!”
Nebula laughed.
“Go make one with your father.”
He looked at her.
“Are you serious?”
“Yes.”
Five minutes later, the kitchen was covered in flour.
Mia was laughing.
Matteo had icing on his nose.
Nebula stood in the doorway.
She had once believed happiness was something fragile.
Now she knew it was built.
One moment at a time.
One honest conversation.
One promise kept.
One person choosing to stay.
Later that night, after Mia was asleep, Matteo and Nebula sat by the window.
Rain tapped against the glass.
The city lights blurred.
He held her hand.
“You know what I think about sometimes?”
“What?”
“That phone call.”
She smiled.
“I thought you answered too quickly.”
“I was waiting for you.”
Her heart stopped.
“What?”
“I kept your number.”
“You said you deleted mine.”
“I lied.”
She laughed.
“You liar.”
“I had to.”
“Why?”
“Because if you ever needed me…”
He lifted her hand.
“I wanted you to be able to call.”
She stared at him.
Three years ago, she had thought deleting his number meant ending their story.
She had been wrong.
It had simply hidden the line between them.
A line that remained.
Waiting.
Patient.
Unbroken.
She leaned against his shoulder.
“Would you still come?”
“To where?”
“Anywhere.”
His answer came instantly.
“Yes.”
“Even if I'm wrong?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I'm scared?”
“Yes.”
“Even if I don't explain?”
“Yes.”
She smiled.
“Why?”
He kissed her forehead.
“Because when you called me, I realized something.”
“What?”
“I had spent years wanting to know whether you would choose me.”
“And?”
“You did.”
Nebula closed her eyes.
The past was still there.
It always would be.
But it no longer controlled her.
Richard was in prison.
Victor was gone.
The Black Ledger had been destroyed after every legitimate case was preserved.
Their families had healed.
Chloe had a daughter.
Her father had finally been honored for the truth.
Her mother had finally received justice.
And Nebula had found a life she had once believed was impossible.
She looked at Matteo.
“You know something?”
“What?”
“You were never the monster.”
He smiled faintly.
“I was a little.”
“Maybe.”
She kissed his cheek.
“But you were my monster.”
He laughed.
“That doesn't sound romantic.”
“It is to me.”
He pulled her closer.
She rested against him.
Outside, the rain continued.
Inside, their daughter slept.
The house was quiet.
Safe.
Warm.
Home.
And Nebula remembered the night she had stood alone beneath the country club awning, bruised and terrified, staring at a cracked phone.
She had thought calling Matteo meant she was going back to the past.
Instead, it took her into her future.
The first time she said, “Come get me,” he came without hesitation.
The second time she needed him, he stood beside her in a burning church.
The third time she was afraid, he reminded her she didn't have to face fear alone.
And every time after that, he came.
Not because he owned her.
Not because she owed him.
Not because their families had arranged it.
Because he loved her.
She turned toward him.
“Matteo?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you.”
“For what?”
“For coming.”
He smiled.
“You called.”
“I did.”
“And I always will.”
She laughed softly.
“Good.”
He kissed her.
And somewhere upstairs, their daughter turned in her sleep and smiled.
The woman who had once believed she needed a safe man had finally learned what safety really meant.
Not a quiet house.
Not a respectable job.
Not a perfect marriage.
Safety was the freedom to speak.
The freedom to leave.
The freedom to return.
The freedom to be believed.
And, above all, the freedom to choose.
Nebula had once chosen to leave Matteo.
Then, years later, she chose to call him.
He chose to come.
They chose each other again.
May you like
And this time, nobody could take that choice away.
The End
