Page 67
Story: Ruined By Rhapsody
Lucrezia sits nearby, her presence surprisingly comforting despite our brief acquaintance. She doesn't fill the silence with empty reassurances, which I appreciate. She simply stays, occasionally glancing at her phone.
After what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes, Lucrezia looks up from her device.
"They might be a while," she says, tucking her phone away. "Would you like to join Zoe? She's with her baby girl and always enjoys company."
I hesitate. The last time I saw Zoe Feretti was at her daughter's christening where I was simply the violinist—background music for their celebration. Now I'm entangled in their world in ways I never imagined.
"I don't want to intrude," I say softly.
"You wouldn't be. Zoe spends too much time alone with just the baby and the nannies when Damiano is working." Lucrezia stands, smoothing her dress. "Besides, sitting here alone with your thoughts isn't helping anyone, especially you."
She's right. The waiting is torture, and I can't do anything to help Jessica by staring at the wall, imagining worst-case scenarios.
"Okay," I agree, rising from my seat. What choice do I have anyway? I'm a guest—or prisoner—in their world now.
Lucrezia leads me through more corridors of the sprawling mansion. The place is like a maze, all marble floors and priceless art. It's beautiful in a cold, intimidating way—wealth displayed as power rather than comfort.
I follow her up a curved staircase, wondering what it must be like to be Zoe—to marry into this world, to love a man like Damiano Feretti. Is it anything like what I'm experiencing with Noah? The comparison makes me uncomfortable.
"Here we are," Lucrezia says, stopping before double doors. She knocks gently before pushing them open. "Zoe? I've brought someone to meet the baby properly."
I step into a sunlit nursery that feels worlds apart from the rest of the mansion. The walls are a soft yellow, adorned with whimsical paintings of animals. In the center of the room Zoe Feretti sits in a rocking chair, cradling a tiny bundle wrapped in a delicate white blanket.
She looks up as we enter, her face brightening with a genuine smile. "Evelyn, hi! So great to see you again."
I nod, surprised she remembers me.
"Come in, please," she says, gesturing to a nearby chair. "Lucrezia, would you mind getting us some tea?"
Lucrezia nods and slips out, leaving me alone with Zoe and her baby.
"I'm sorry about your sister," Zoe says softly. "Damiano and Noah will do everything possible to find her."
"Thank you," I manage, my eyes drawn to the baby in her arms. "Your daughter is beautiful."
Zoe beams with pride. "Would you like to hold her?"
Before I can answer, she's already standing, crossing to where I sit. I find myself with a warm, tiny human in my arms, her perfect little face peaceful in sleep.
"She likes you," Zoe says, settling back in her chair. "She usually fusses with strangers."
Something shifts inside me as I look down at this innocent life. I never wanted children—never even considered it a possibility. My parents showed me that parenting was more obligation than joy. My father pushed me relentlessly toward perfection, while my mother stood by silently. There was no warmth, no encouragement—just expectations.
"I never thought about having children," I admit, surprising myself with my honesty.
Zoe tilts her head. "Really? Why not?"
"I guess I never saw myself as mother material. My parents weren't exactly role models in that department."
"Well, many parents aren't," Zoe says with a small laugh. "But we get to choose what kind of parents we become."
I look down at the sleeping baby, her tiny hand curled around my finger. Something warm and unfamiliar blooms in my chest.
"Besides," Zoe continues, "you need the right partner. Someone who makes you feel safe enough to create a family."
"I never found anyone who made me think about marriage or children," I say quietly. "My career always came first. I'm still young, I suppose," I murmur, gently rocking the baby.
"You are," Zoe agrees with a warm smile. "But it's also completely okay if you never want to be a mother. That's a valid choice too."
After what feels like hours but is probably only twenty minutes, Lucrezia looks up from her device.
"They might be a while," she says, tucking her phone away. "Would you like to join Zoe? She's with her baby girl and always enjoys company."
I hesitate. The last time I saw Zoe Feretti was at her daughter's christening where I was simply the violinist—background music for their celebration. Now I'm entangled in their world in ways I never imagined.
"I don't want to intrude," I say softly.
"You wouldn't be. Zoe spends too much time alone with just the baby and the nannies when Damiano is working." Lucrezia stands, smoothing her dress. "Besides, sitting here alone with your thoughts isn't helping anyone, especially you."
She's right. The waiting is torture, and I can't do anything to help Jessica by staring at the wall, imagining worst-case scenarios.
"Okay," I agree, rising from my seat. What choice do I have anyway? I'm a guest—or prisoner—in their world now.
Lucrezia leads me through more corridors of the sprawling mansion. The place is like a maze, all marble floors and priceless art. It's beautiful in a cold, intimidating way—wealth displayed as power rather than comfort.
I follow her up a curved staircase, wondering what it must be like to be Zoe—to marry into this world, to love a man like Damiano Feretti. Is it anything like what I'm experiencing with Noah? The comparison makes me uncomfortable.
"Here we are," Lucrezia says, stopping before double doors. She knocks gently before pushing them open. "Zoe? I've brought someone to meet the baby properly."
I step into a sunlit nursery that feels worlds apart from the rest of the mansion. The walls are a soft yellow, adorned with whimsical paintings of animals. In the center of the room Zoe Feretti sits in a rocking chair, cradling a tiny bundle wrapped in a delicate white blanket.
She looks up as we enter, her face brightening with a genuine smile. "Evelyn, hi! So great to see you again."
I nod, surprised she remembers me.
"Come in, please," she says, gesturing to a nearby chair. "Lucrezia, would you mind getting us some tea?"
Lucrezia nods and slips out, leaving me alone with Zoe and her baby.
"I'm sorry about your sister," Zoe says softly. "Damiano and Noah will do everything possible to find her."
"Thank you," I manage, my eyes drawn to the baby in her arms. "Your daughter is beautiful."
Zoe beams with pride. "Would you like to hold her?"
Before I can answer, she's already standing, crossing to where I sit. I find myself with a warm, tiny human in my arms, her perfect little face peaceful in sleep.
"She likes you," Zoe says, settling back in her chair. "She usually fusses with strangers."
Something shifts inside me as I look down at this innocent life. I never wanted children—never even considered it a possibility. My parents showed me that parenting was more obligation than joy. My father pushed me relentlessly toward perfection, while my mother stood by silently. There was no warmth, no encouragement—just expectations.
"I never thought about having children," I admit, surprising myself with my honesty.
Zoe tilts her head. "Really? Why not?"
"I guess I never saw myself as mother material. My parents weren't exactly role models in that department."
"Well, many parents aren't," Zoe says with a small laugh. "But we get to choose what kind of parents we become."
I look down at the sleeping baby, her tiny hand curled around my finger. Something warm and unfamiliar blooms in my chest.
"Besides," Zoe continues, "you need the right partner. Someone who makes you feel safe enough to create a family."
"I never found anyone who made me think about marriage or children," I say quietly. "My career always came first. I'm still young, I suppose," I murmur, gently rocking the baby.
"You are," Zoe agrees with a warm smile. "But it's also completely okay if you never want to be a mother. That's a valid choice too."
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