Chapter 3 - The Room upstairs
The interior of the farmhouse smelled of old wood, floor wax, and the faint, sweet scent of lavender soap. But beneath it all hung the heavy, medicinal smell of an oxygen machine humming softly in the downstairs bedroom.
Leaving Lily in Emma’s care in the kitchen, Dominic and I walked down the narrow hallway toward my mother’s room.
I paused outside the wooden door, my hand hovering over the brass knob, my throat tight with a sudden wave of suffocating grief. I hadn't seen my mother in seven months; the photos Emma sent hadn't fully prepared me for the reality.
Dominic’s hand rested gently on the small of my back. "Take a breath, Sophia. I’m right behind you."
I squeezed his hand, turned the knob, and stepped inside.
Margaret Carter lay in a narrow hospital bed positioned near the window. She was frail, her skin paper-thin and pale against the white linens, her gray hair cut short. But when her sunken blue eyes found mine, a flash of bright, radiant warmth lit up her face.
"Sophia..." her voice was a raspy whisper.
"Mom," I choked out, rushing to her side and sinking to my knees beside the bed. I took her small, cold hand in mine, kissing her knuckles as tears spilled down my cheeks. "I’m here, Mom. I’m here."
"My sweet girl," Margaret murmured, resting her free hand weakly on my head. She looked past me, her eyes drifting to the tall figure standing quietly in the doorway. "And who... who is this?"
Dominic stepped into the room, abandoning his usual imposing stance. He approached the bed with a soft, respectful demeanor, bowing his head slightly as he reached down to gently take Margaret’s hand.
"Mrs. Carter," Dominic said softly. "I’m Dominic Moretti. Sophia’s... partner."
Margaret looked at him long and hard, her sharp maternal intuition cutting through the fog of her illness. She looked at his expensive watch, then at his strong, calloused hands, and finally at the way his gaze naturally shifted to protectively monitor me.
"You're the man from New York," Margaret whispered, a small, knowing smile touching her lips. "The one Lily talks about in her letters."
"I am," Dominic nodded.
Margaret’s grip on his fingers tightened with surprising strength for someone so frail. She looked between the two of us, her eyes shining with unshed tears.
"Sophia has spent four years taking care of everyone else," Margaret said, her voice trembling with emotion. "She took the blame for things that weren't her fault. She raised that sweet baby alone in a city that eats people alive. She tells me she works for you... but I see how you look at her, son."
My heart stopped in my chest. I looked up at Dominic, terrified that he would stumble or break character.
Dominic didn't blink. He lowered himself onto one knee beside my chair, placing his hand over mine where it rested on the bed.
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"She is the strongest woman I’ve ever met, Mrs. Carter," Dominic said, looking directly into my mother's eyes, his tone so deeply sincere it sent a jolt straight through my soul. "I won't let anyone hurt her again. You have my word."
Margaret closed her eyes, letting out a long, peaceful sigh as a tear escaped down her cheek. "Thank God," she whispered. "Now I can rest."
