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His voice is so quiet. Kind. The way he says my name makes something flutter in my stomach—not like a butterfly. More like a feather brushing the inside of my chest.

Bea huffs again, annoyed. “You don’t need to talk to anyone, Lune. Let’s go.”

But I pause.

I don’t know why. Maybe because his tone isn’t teasing like before. Maybe because he didn’t grin like he usually does. He looks… worried.

“I’ll just talk for a minute,” I say quietly, touching Bea’s wrist.

She stares at me, frowning, then lets out a sigh. “Fine. But I’m not going far.”

She steps aside, her arms folding as she walks over to where the other boys are loitering by the old stone fence. I see her keeping her eyes on me.

Rafaele takes a small step forward. “I heard what happened from my uncle,” he says gently. “At the café. Everyone’s talking, but I didn’t want to listen to gossip and my uncle wouldn’t give us much detail. I wanted to see you for myself.”

“Oh,” I whisper, lowering my gaze. “I’m fine now.”

He frowns. “You don’t look fine. You look pale… tired.”

“I’m alright,” I say again, softer this time.

He reaches out—just lightly—and brushes a loose curl from my shoulder. His fingers linger a second too long near the edge of my dress. I feel his eyes travel lower, then shift back up too quickly.

I pretend I didn’t notice.

“I’ve been praying for you,” he says. “I lit a candle for your healing. Every morning, I’ve prayed Psalm 121 for you. ‘The Lord shall preserve thy going out and thy coming in…’”

My heart tightens.

“I know you’re a good girl, Lunetta. A special one. Different from the others.” He smiles again, softer now. “I’ve told my parents about you. They already approve.”

I blink. “They… do?”

He nods. “They say you’d be the perfect wife. Gentle. God-fearing. Modest. Everything a woman should be.”

My fingers curl around my rosary in my bag.

“I’ve loved you for years,” he says suddenly, his voice breaking just a little. “Not just liked. Loved. The way Jacob loved Rachel. The way Boaz cherished Ruth. You’re the woman I want beside me.”

My breath catches.

“I know you’ve never looked at me that way. Not before. But maybe now… maybe you could think about it.” His voice drops lower, more hopeful. “We could marry, if you gave me a chance. I’d take care of you. You’d never have to worry about anything. You’d be safe.”

The words press into my mind, one by one.

Wife. Marriage. Children.

Maybe… maybe he’s right.

I’m twenty now. A woman. Maybe this is the answer. Maybe this is what God wants me to do—to be a good wife, to raise faithful children, to keep a home full of light and peace. If I marry Rafaele, I wouldn’t have to lie anymore. I’d have a purpose again. And Bea wouldn’t worry. And Nonna could rest easy knowing someone strong was watching over me.

I could be good again. Whole again.

“Would you meet me this evening?” he asks gently. “We could take a walk. Just talk more. Get to know each other.”

I hesitate. “I don’t think Nonna would like that…”

He chuckles softly, brushing his fingers near mine. “You don’t have to tell her yet. Girls see their suitors in secret all the time. We just need to talk, Lunetta. That’s all. Once we’re sure… then we can tell your Nonna.”